Yesterday we went back to visit a pub I worked in at the end of ’95, the last pub I actually worked in. I was pretty much burned out by then, and the pub in Worcester was the last straw. It was a deeply negative experience, although it gave me the impetus to change things for the better.
It’s taken a long time to get even close to wanting to go back there. When we decided to come here, I had a look to see if the place even still existed – and it does, although it’s now been renamed “The Barn Owl” instead of The Poachers Pocket, which it was when I was there.
It’s been heavily redone since I last darkened the doors, totally refitted, old rooms closed off, new ones created. The place where I used to live (as a live-in assistant manager) has been sold off and is now a vet’s surgery. I could still all too clearly remember how it was, but it was interesting to see what’d been done to it, too.
All told, it’s really nothing like it was when I worked there – no bad thing. It’s still not a great place, and not one I’d choose to go to regularly, but all the same it’s a ghost that’s been laid to rest.
No bad thing.