Windmill

Finding myself in Tower Hill, Kirkby for non-pub-related purposes* it would be foolish not to revisit the Windmill, last ticked five years ago:

What can I say?  A classic sixties estate boozer, plain, clean and tidy inside, and ticking over gently at two on a Thursday afternoon.

The audio kit and speakers suggest loud entertainment later, but at the moment all I can hear is quiet racing commentary and lively conversation, with quite a lot of swearing.

In the other side of the large interior they were playing pool, I think.

(* If anyone's interested I came to visit Merseyside's newest railway station, and ride on our pointless battery trains.)