Since I decided to go to one pub per post I’ve developed an impressive backlog. Only a week, but 20 pubs and counting. Makes BRAPA seem quite efficient.
Not all ticks are as, er, exciting as the White Horse. The new wave of brewery taps and craft bars leave me a bit cold, as do the bulk of the m*****.
But 8 Sail gives me a chance to explore Heckington. Thankfully the return train means I only have to explore for an hour.
If Sleaford is Lincolnshire’s Driffield, then Heckington is its Snaith. Spectacular church, the odd touch of grandeur, some very old-fashioned shops.
And of course your free cooking apples behind net curtains.
After 20 minutes walk I’d covered the tourist trail, and suddenly realised I’d better get a move on and find the actual Guide entry. But there’s no internet in Lincolnshire ! Help !
8 Sail Brewery Tap can’t be at the famous windmill, that only has seven sails.
Oh, it does have eight. I missed one. There it is.
The car park was heaving, and I joined a queue of excited blue-rinsed visitors, just because you do. It turned out they were all heading for the café (or probably loos) first, or tying BRAPA to one of the sails, or something.
In the brewery bar, it was just me. So I had to feign interest in beer and brewing, failing miserably.
The brewer broke off from whatever brewers do (wort, I think) to serve me a half of the Fenman, which was actually a bit brilliant (NBSS 4). I told him it tasted like the old Ruddles.
That seemed to stir a bit of interest, but I sense his forte is making beer rather than small talk with tickers, so I left him to the inevitable invasion from Gladys and Edith once they’d finished their Victoria Sponge.