the pub life

We're starting to get in the swing of things here in Upper Oddington, and that means we head to the pub around 6 o'clock for a pint. Okay, well we kind of get a pint. I drink elderflower or apple soda. John can only manage a 1/2 pint (the first night he ordered a whole pint and then slunk out because he realized he couldn't get through it). John finally admitted to the owner of the pub, Simon, that his beer tolerance was pretty low. Simon informed us that one pub attendee regularly drank 10 pints in an evening. As John sat there sipping his 1/2 pint, the owner kept counting off each pint the guy had. He was up to 5 by the time we finished up and left. So we obviously need to get in better beer-drinking shape to live here.

Everyone knows each other and says hello when they come in. Dogs come in too, which we love. The other night Tim came in. Everyone said hi, but nobody made much effort to talk to him. We soon learned why, because each person he did manage to get in conversation heard the same story, about attending a memorial service in Cheltenham and how he hadn't been there in years, and how awful and big its gotten. Cheltenham is a small city 1/2 hour from Upper Oddington. We went there the other afternoon to go to Mail Boxes Etcetera and see a movie. The fact that this guy hadn't been for years to the only nearby city that has a movie theater? Well John just couldn't fathom it.

But it did confirm what Simon had told us: that Upper Oddington is mostly locals, horse breeders and farmers and such. Lower Oddington is where the vacationers go. The housing stock down there is much smaller and more like townhouses because it's where the tenant farmers used to live. So while it feels like a much denser and populated village, there aren't as many locals. We're happy to be living in Upper Oddington.