Next stop, that odd suburban area between Poole and Bournemouth that only GBG tickers ever visit. Or people alarmed that the nearest stop-off point calls itself a train station on Google maps. Mudgie and Tom will explode. No-one else gets off at Branksome, which won’t surprise you if you visit. Rather like Bexley, Upper Parkestone… Continue reading PARKESTONE’S CATS IN THE CHINESE
Month: September 2018
THE (GBG) POOLE OF DEATH
The second new tick in Poole was the “attractive old all-rounder” that is the King Charles. More locals than tourists. beers you’ve heard of, pub grub, Willie Nelson cover of “Ghost Riders on the Storm“, you know the type. In Cambridge it would be the Baron of Beef, I guess. Poole only has the 3… Continue reading THE (GBG) POOLE OF DEATH
POOLE – MORE STEVE CLARIDGE THAN CLARIDGE’S
You may like to know that since getting back from my fest I’ve done 12 (twelve) loads of washing, mostly Matt’s hardcore band T-shirts, and spent 3 hours reading BRAPA to see what I can nick. Which is more time than I spend writing my own rubbish. Up to my most recent ticking trip now,… Continue reading POOLE – MORE STEVE CLARIDGE THAN CLARIDGE’S
POLICE THEME PUBS
Just as in the Readers Digest of October 1977*, “I am Simon’s stalker“. The week before my visit to bucolic Blackpool, BRAPA had visited the exact same pubs as I did, attracting much weirder company than me. And despite being six pints to the good, he seems to have got better photos and remembered to… Continue reading POLICE THEME PUBS
PRE-EMPTIVE TEMPTATIONS AMONG THE TANGERINES
Yes, more Blackpool for you. You know you love it. I know that in our glorious summer, even Wythenshawe would shine, but the jewel of the Fylde coast looked majestic in late August. Thankfully it’s not all posh; there’s still unexplored quirky bits like General Street (information welcomed). Simon had kindly done the hard work,… Continue reading PRE-EMPTIVE TEMPTATIONS AMONG THE TANGERINES
BLACKPOOL. STILL VERY MUCH BLACKPOOL
Just back from the End of the Road, where Mrs RM has kept Beavertown in profit for the year, and youngest son Matt found a band he liked in the last hour of the festival. You’ll want to see my route back, dropping Mrs RM in Chippenham, a publess town, and only exceeding 60mph as… Continue reading BLACKPOOL. STILL VERY MUCH BLACKPOOL
MRS RM WINS THE CASK LOTTERY
This post is brought to you courtesy of a solar powered recharge of my dead phone. Technology, eh ? Not many pubs close to Larmer Gardens, but the Museum in Farnham (not that Farnham) is 25 minutes walk. I suspect we’re the only festival goers to attempt it down a narrow lane which forces you… Continue reading MRS RM WINS THE CASK LOTTERY
WHOA, BLACK BETTY
Greetings from End of the Road, home of a 100 “Unknown Pleasures” T-shirts and a GBG19 style crisis as the onion bhajias have run out. But there’s sushi. Good news as Mrs RM finally finishes her VAT return and joins me on the Beavertown (stylised Beeverton by Mrs RM, in honour of City’s 100 points… Continue reading WHOA, BLACK BETTY
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