Celebrity pubs, eh ? Nearly as dreadful as celebrity beers.
Still, I was excited to visit Guy Martin‘s pub in Kirmington, Greater Grimsby, keen to see if he’d kept any Madonna memorabilia in the divorce settlement.
Oh, sorry, that’s Ritchie. (I genuinely thought they were the same person). This Guy is a famous biker, apparently.
Look closely and you’ll see the pub has its own airport for celebrity arrivals like Duncan.
The Marrowbone & Cleaver is run by Guy’s sister, who keeps a small village pub open from 11.30 – 23.00, a tremendous effort in 2019 half-hearted Britain.
At 14.30 on a Thursday in March, that means keeping it open for half a dozen professional drinkers with any fish and chips trade long gone. Did I ever tell you I once drove to Grimsby from Cambridge after work just for fish and chips and a Scunthorpe sunset ?
It doesn’t overplay the motorcycling angle, but definitely feels a bit sports bar and all the better for it.
Nothing twee about the conversation at the bar, all derived from the pages of the North Lincs Examiner.
“Grimsby man arrested for ********* on his aunt’s ****”.
“It’s always Grimsby”
Even 3 beers seems a bit ambitious in the land of Strongbow Dark Fruits. The one with the celebrity pump clip was clearly the one to avoid, so I had that.
The garden in the Grimsby sun is a highlight, almost adding a 0.5 NBSS to a disappointing Batemans house beer that is the epitome of mid-week Lincolnshire.
A well-run pub, whatever the GBG credentials.
It’s not even summer yet, but beer quality has taken a distinct turn for the worse, and it’s entirely to do with turnover.
Of course, some pubs will hide their slow-moving beer by just not opening at all, but that just makes it worse when they do.
Still, I had great hopes for the Spurn peninsula.
NB Yes, I’d been listening to a lot of Elton John on the way up. Bernie Taupin was born in Sleaford, you know.