retiredmartin

Yes, a bit of blog title PUNK for you next, courtesy of your favourite country gent and butter expert.  1min 30 secs in for all you lazy types.

To think Simon wasn’t quite two when John Lydon ascended Box Hill.  Ah, youth !

I was headed to Box Hill & Westhumble for my penultimate Surrey tick, which I really could have done from Dorking last month with better planning. No excuses.

90 minutes to walk the 3 miles to Mickleham’s Running Horses and back, neck some slow-moving home-brew and pretend to climb the hill.

I could have borrowed the courtesy bike parked at Ryka’s cafe, I guess.

It took 10 minutes to reach that famous bikers’ cafe from the station, and clearly this was as far as some gentlefolk’s ambition stretched, as they sat down, OS map round their neck, to giant plates of chips.

The little footpath that takes you the mile alongside the Old London Road to bypassed Mickleham is pleasant, and gives me time to worry that I’ve already been to the Running Horses before.

But it was just the sign in Pubmeister’s report I recalled.

Being bypassed and offering a menu for two for £80 (can that be right ?) means you don’t get much trade compared to Ryka’s cafe, which a week ago sold me a double burger for £3.20.  In Surrey.

Still, there’s flowers on the table here, and it’s very Olde English.

The only diners in the bar area were just about to argue over the bill as I approached the pumps.  No bar flies here, at least.

Two from Brakspear and a hidden Pride, overseen by Easter bunnies rather than jam jars.  My heart soars.

Sadky, my heart sinks as the Bitter (aka Amber) is chilled to extinction, though otherwise decent enough (NBSS 2.5).

I wait for the Brakspear to warm up a bit within earshot of two Pashmina Phillipas discussing their daughters’ unsuitable boyfriends.

“Come clean about it, Janine !” is the punchline.

Civilised (I’m called Sir thrice on the way to the Gents) and pleasant, with enough tat to justify my extended wander round the rooms.

A country version of Norah Jones accompanies me to the loos with their temporary signs and uplifting handwash.

Lingering to take photos of handwash means I only have 20 minutes to “Do Box Hill“, so this shot is half-way up.

From this vantage point you can see the memorial just north of Horsham at where hand-to-hand fighting kept craft beer out of Surrey in 2014.  It’s worth taking a moment to ponder, and give thanks.