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<strong>Rating: </strong>2/5
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Time Out says
Mon Jul 18 2011
Far enough from the beaten track to attract only the occasional irregular, the delightful Colton Arms is warming in winter (trusty fireplace) and convivial in summer (‘Biergarten’ out back).
At some point in the dim and distant, somebody seems to have tried to build a tourist trade by naming the toilets ‘Sires’ and ‘Wenches’ and hanging up all manner of tankards and horse brasses, not to mention a royal crest of unknown European heritage, but visits by the Osaka branch of the Sharp’s Doom Bar Appreciation Society are rare.
A sturdy cash till, guarded by a portrait of a late, lamented mastiff, registers a pre-decimal ring-up; a clock may chime while you order. If this place were a little more TARDIS-shaped (it does its best), you’d swear you’d walked into an episode of Doctor Who.
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