Around the town in blinkers.

I think the problem lies in the concept that "familiarity breeds" wotnot.
You walk past these thing, which you'd read as a visitor and scarcely notice as a local.

I was instructed to hie me unto the hair-butcher for a ceremonial "lowering of the lugs" prior to tonight's nosh up for Clicky's birthday celebration.

I was reading the right hand one, on my way past, when I was accosted by a "serving wench" I think must have been built in with the bricks. I first met the place, as an infrequent visitor to Penrith in the guise of the "Elbow Room", I always thought it had that name out of sarcasm, coz there wasn't much of it at that time.

We haven't been in there since the episode of "the Last Quiz", when we were
A) Accused, by other teams, of cheating because we were too often in the top three to pacify them.
B) The same band of clowns who wanted to have the questions made easier in the daft hope that they would score higher: they hadn't the nouse to realise if it was easier for them it'd be just as easy for us, so we quit (Still on good terms with management).

The lass invited me in for a look around as it had altered considerably since our days. 'Twas there I beheld Ye olde black lion and had to go back to the plaque to finish reading it before I went home. It seems that, in spite of a big fire in the past few years, there's at least one bit of the old place intact.