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I've heard it said that pubs are like communal living rooms for the British. This may explain a tradition we encountered where families pop down to the local inn for a pint on Christmas day. Seeking to fit in with our neighbors, Vicki and I went on an expedition to this pub in Brookhouse on Christmas. The trip was marred slightly by my insistence that we take a different route home than the way we had come. Unfortunately, we didn't have a map that covered this route and so were relying on my spidey sense. The spidey-sense route ended up taking us straight up and over the steepest fells in the vicinity. That, combined with the fact that the weather was quite foul put a bit of a damper on our trip. The time we spent in the pub was pleasant enough. Here is a picture of the two us in the pub prior to the ordeal of our trip home.
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