Pleasure starts seeping your bones, your body starts feeling extra comfy, when approaching the Queen’s Head. The ancientness. The fact that it’s comforted for so long. Leaded glass, slightly bowed. Heads ducking a worn beam. Floorboards, plaster, wattle, daub. A soup list that’s blocks of colour – red, reddish brown, greenish brown – take your pick. The mind smells clay pipes, sees shepherds’ smocks. There’s a library and log fire. Roast beef and real ale. Candles and darkness. Mystery and history. No music, TV. Frill-free. Slow pace. Hole up. Hear human voices. Touch wood and pages. Watch, listen, eat, drink, absorb.
