October 2026. Nassington. Northamptonshire. Last year, Yarwell; this time Nassington gets the Beer Guide glory in that cluster of gorgeous villages west of the A1 at Peterborough. A few miles east you’ve got dull Fenland and that pub in Holme that thinks it’s the lowest point in the UK, but this little pocket of Northants… Continue reading THE QUEEN’S HEAD, NASSINGTON. PROPER CRUST PIES JUST OFF THE A1
THE COMPASSES, ROYAL TUNBRIDGE WELLS. NICE PUB, SHAME ABOUT THE PSYCHIC READINGS
October 2026. Royal Tunbridge Wells. Our single night at the in-laws tragically coincided with the Tuesday closure of Meows, purveyor of the best Chinese Meal for Three in the kingdom. What does Tunbridge Wells have to offer during the diner in half-term. I will try the White Bear one day, but the Youngs menu was… Continue reading THE COMPASSES, ROYAL TUNBRIDGE WELLS. NICE PUB, SHAME ABOUT THE PSYCHIC READINGS
MOUNT EDGCUMBE
October 2026. Royal Tunbridge Wells. Only down in Rye the night, then back up to attend to father-in-law ahead of his next hospital admission. Tuesday saw calls from medical examiners and undertakers on my side of the family, the process of death temporarily more demanding than life. We stayed the night in the Wells, in… Continue reading MOUNT EDGCUMBE
ON A DAY WHEN YOU REALLY NEED TO FEEL NORMAL, WE HEAD TO THE GLOBE
October 2026. Rye. Dad’s death sent me into action mode on Monday morning. Meeting care home staff who’d come to love his smile over 2 years, contacting funeral directors, letting relatives know and urgently clearing out a rather spartan room and taking four bin bags of clothes to recycling, leaving one of photos to sort… Continue reading ON A DAY WHEN YOU REALLY NEED TO FEEL NORMAL, WE HEAD TO THE GLOBE
THE HIDDEN WELLS HAND PUMP
October 2026. Cambridge. I’d popped down to see Dad in Cambridge on Sunday, and felt sufficiently concerned to stay the night in Orchard Park‘s Travelodge, visible from the A14 if not space. Having not eaten all day I was grateful for the PLUS room with its Lavazza machines (3 double espressos please) and a couple… Continue reading THE HIDDEN WELLS HAND PUMP
IS JEFF THERE ?
October 2026. Rye. Mrs RM found us a small caravan at Rye Harbour in 2022, mainly as an easier base to visit her ailing parents, as the thought of sleeping in her childhood bedroom didn’t appeal. It was a wise move, though we’ve barely used it in the peak seasons as the summer lettings pay… Continue reading IS JEFF THERE ?
THE SHARING TABLES IN RYE’S WATERWORKS
October 2026. Rye. A stormy weekend scuppered my plans for the train to Hayward’s Heath, perhaps the UK’s dullest town. But with a short interlude between gales (caravan still standing) we took the bus into Rye for a pint and managed to nip in its most regular GBG pub just before noon opening. I’m surprised… Continue reading THE SHARING TABLES IN RYE’S WATERWORKS
A BONUS BRIGHTON BOOZER
October 2026. Brighton. On the way back from Ford to Rye now, an eight train journey but with four Beer Guide ticks (“half a BRAPA”) in the bag. Four pints in 2 hours, really important not to mix it up with coffee. Puccino’s at Worthing station, the “indie” Pumpkin ?, give you a little biscuit… Continue reading A BONUS BRIGHTON BOOZER
PINTS UNDER THE WATNEY’S RED LIGHT IN TARRING
October 2026. West Tarring. Worthing. The lack of young, female pub tickers is a matter of concern in our society, but then women aren’t generally as fascinated by maps in the same way as blokes, having been forced to read cookery books rather than OS maps in school. Many has been the hour Si and… Continue reading PINTS UNDER THE WATNEY’S RED LIGHT IN TARRING
I’D WALK A MILLION MILES FOR ONE OF YOUR SMILES
I drove up from Rye to Waterbeach yesterday for my weekly catch-up with Dad in his care home, finding him uncharacteristically asleep without finishing his Sunday roast and an attractive looking sponge pudding and custard. He never woke up, and died (“promoted to glory”) peacefully late last night at 91, only a few hours after… Continue reading I’D WALK A MILLION MILES FOR ONE OF YOUR SMILES
