I’m really not convinced that there is ever a good season to pub garden. It’s just one of those things that the British don’t seem to be very good at al fresco eating & drinking – yes, I know it’s a clich’ but it is true. The problems go like this: it’s too cold (most common) in which case you spend your time offering to help whoever is getting a round in, desperate for the warmth of the inside of the pub. Or it’s too warm (it can happen) making you sweat uncomfortably on your splintery old bench / stick uncomfortably to your sweaty plastic chair. It’s too sunny – you can’t see a thing & keep walking into people. There are insects everywhere, and wasps seem to have a strong alcoholic bent and love nothing more than flying into your pint. Not to mention children – no, not flying into my pint, I mean that daytime garden drinking seems to attract parents who would never under normal circumstances allow their little darlings into a nasty smoky pub, but who seem to think that pub gardens are an extension of the local playground. As far as I’m concerned the old adage should be ‘no garden supping of stout ever. At all.’