I'm not advocating drinking all your troubles away...that's a line from the song 'I Am A Cider Drinker'. (It also includes the lines 'With me breeches full o' tadpoles,
And the newts between me toes'. I don't advocate bothering wildlife, either.)
There's a pub quite close to where we're camping. It's basically three small rooms - two for drinking, one a 'museum', full of those infamous 'Things In Glass Jars' that Sherlock loves, a lot of fossils and bones, an entire stuffed alligator...well, it's just got all sorts in it. Both the boys have spent quite a bit of time in there.
It's a cider pub, so there are about ten ciders on tap, a few bitters and that's about it. It's stuffed with walkers, musicians, and dogs. A lot of dogs. Which seems like even more dogs, when our two get involved, being massive.
Anyway, it's lovely. Unspoilt by modern life, fantastic views down to the sea, chicken roaming about in the large garden (did I mention dogs?) and utterly relaxing.
Mycroft even let his hair down and had a ginger beer shandy. (Which isn't an extended metaphor for any gay sex act...) If you like ginger beer...and you like bitter, then you should try mixing them.