#mainstrasse

Walked out of the fake English pub humming:

It's just a fantasy It's not the real thing But sometimes a fantasy Is all you need

Then I remembered Billy Joel is an ass hat according to a documentary I watched recently about how he treated the people in his life so now a good portion of my life's soundtrack is compromised. Everything is.

The Mainstrasse in Covington might not be quite a fantasy but it's a little dreamy...to me. The whole of the south bank stretching east to Bellevue is chock full of great old architecture, tree-lined streets, and delightful restaurants, and bars. We try to visit at least a couple of time a year. We were sad to see one of our favorite places didn't survive Covid but there were two newly opened spots to try out next time.

If there are advantages to be found during this epidemic, I'd have to count finding a place to park, sit, and stay, to be among them.

I observed a lot of empty seats during my visit.

I arrived at Brewdog in downtown Cincy just after 11:30 Saturday morning. These pics were at my last stop a bit after 6:30 Sunday evening.

I looked in at 13 places during that time. I didn't rush but didn't stay overlong at any place either. I've been to Cincy many times and I'm sure I'd love to live there. Its Louisville with real hills, professional sports, and five times as many restaurants, bars, and breweries. It has Jungle Jim's, the best grocery store ever, and The Party Source, the largest liquor store in the country. It has Hofbrauhaus for serious German food, Findlay Market for delis, ethnic foods, and goods. Its beautiful old architecture is enhanced by colorful quirky art at every turn.

The Green House wasn't on my list of places to visit but the couple sitting next to me at Fridas recommended it when I asked if they liked the Cock and Bull across the street. The Cock and Bull was on my mental list, had been for years. I only had time for one though.

It was dusk and the street lights were shining on the Mainstrasse. There were people on the street and the sound of a large fountain competed with a live band warming up a half block towards the river. My light jacket was plenty for the early evening and if I'd been staying overnight, I'd have gone into the English pub I'd been eyeing for years.

When I'd asked about the Cock and Bull the woman immediately suggested the new place for cocktails. She hadn't been but had heard good things. The man offered the Cock had good fish and chips. That's a hallmark for a pub and a point in its favor.

Indeed I stared into the large windows at the long bar and tall tap handles, all pouring British pints. It appeared to be about as good as one could ask for outside the UK. Still, I had a two hour drive ahead and I thought six more ounces would ride better than 20 so I went to the cocktail bar