“Taskmaster burst the bionic zit-splitter
Breakneck speed we drown ten pints of bitter
We lean all day and some say that ain’t productive
That depend upon the demons that you’re stuck with”
Roots Manuva – Witness
Clearly Rodney aka Roots has been on a pub crawl with Stafford’s Paul and knows that ten pints of bitter is very productive as long as they’re shared out among Proper Pubs.
You’ll remember IKEA-gate, where I left Mrs RM in the soft furnishings department of the Swedish divorce-causing giant while failing to tick Roots, Kimberley’s new micro. I was a bit cross, and subsequent efforts to find out whether and when it’s open all failed.
But a sharp manoeuvre off the M1 on Saturday brought a Kimberley Konclusion.
Anyway, you’ve been wanting to see Kimberley cemetery, I’ll wager.
Last time here, the front gate to Roots was closed, the lights were off, and no sign was there. This time, I confidently followed two beery-looking folk in on the dot of noon.
It’s either wonderfully or terribly cluttered, depending on your inclinations. More the inclinations of my sister than of Mrs RM, if I’m honest.
I warmed to it immediately, and not just because I was coming in out of sub-zero Nottingham.
The Landlord was too cheery for me to get annoyed at for the earlier opening times fail.
Apparently they’d been on holiday in Northumberland, so we chatted Berwick and Alnwick pubs while I was a bit distracted by the antiques/tat. Anyone who’s been to the Fez will sympathise.
Despite the tat, and a cutting-edge beer selection by Kimberley standards, it felt homely and pubby. Proper crisps, lagers and Guinness. The micro pub owners of Herne would be horrified. The Siren Yu Lu was cool and chewy (NBSS 3.5) and under £3 a pint.
You could spend a week exploring the treasure trove that is the Gents (sorry, Pauline).
Proper Pub seating purists will be distressed at my choice of pew.
But it gave an excellent view of the breweriana, a word that always looks odd written down.
Come for the sumptuous furniture, the cool tasty beer, the toilet “art”, just don’t leave with any of the pub signs you know you’ve really no space for.