You left me in Rochdale, just outside the Flying Horse, having sunk a pint of Bass far too quickly on top of a Rice & Three, and then proceeding to jog up the steps of St Chads.
I can’t resist running up stairs, particularly at tube stations.
Readers, DO do it on an empty stomach. DON’T do it on a bellyfull of curry and Bass.
Let me leave it there.
I needed a lie down, a black coffee and a phone recharge. Where better than Spoons.
Tucked in a corner, I drifted off to sleep. My battery had gone from 13% to 45%, and my coffee was chilled. No-one had nicked my GBG, note. Lancashire folk, salt of the earth.
I had a quick look round central Rochdale, got lost in the Wheatsheaf Centre, and found a route back to the station with some lovely keg Sam Smiths pubs, no doubt visited by Tandleman in his line of duty (but not by me).
Back at Victoria 20 minutes later, I was knackered.
The Mudgies, Southworths and Quosh had been “doing the classics“. I’d toyed with catching them up in the Castle, but instead recovered in Cafe Nero a few yards from their penultimate stop. Café Nero folk are good folk.
They seemed to have been in the Circus an eternity, and when I popped in at gone 6 to find Dave grilling (not literally) a young Devonian lass about life I found out why.
Paul was in fine form. Considering.
I was meeting Matt for curry at 7, so only had time for a half in the City Arms, but what a half it was.
NBSS 4 for the Plum Porter, a half that perked me up due to the magic powers of the plums.
The Lamb Handi in Sangams was sizzlin’, as the kids say, and Matt demolished a mixed grill quicker than I finished that Bass. I hope the lad is eating OK.
In my own defense she was a wonder young woman.
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Yes she was holding her own but a young woman shouldn’t really be subjected to questions like
“What’s your view on Autovac”
“Where’s the scuffiest pub in Exeter”
Etc etc
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Dave,
That’s what you tell all the young gals !
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Is that where I’ve been going wrong all these years? I’ve never used a line like that. Next time I see a pretty young lady, I will ask at least one of those questions. Thanks Dave. Thanks t’other Mudgie.
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Old people have knowledge occasionally, don’t they?
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Normally. Trouble is that they forget it though.
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“took over Threlfalls in 1973..” – No better than that.
Proper evidence that in October 1975 her pub was the first ever to be described as a “micropub”.
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Ooh history.
Was that the same Landlady who served us those pints of Dizzy Blonde in January?
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Yes indeed, and she’s been there nearly thirty years.
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Martin, running up stairs at tube stations is what you should do. Do you go up the emergency spiral staircases at the lift only stations?
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Actually I do. And beat the lift. Which is the really long set of stairs.
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I don’t actually know what the longest set of fixed stairs is. Never take the lift unless you are at Essex Road where there is no choice.
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Could you not climb a rope or something. There MUST be an emergency set of steps, surely?
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There is a spiral staircase, as per usual Northern Line styal, giving away its pre-BR past. However, unfortunately, it is behind an alarmed door. One of the more atmospheric (former) Underground stations, I thoroughly recommend a visit. It is at its best when it is quietest.
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“Don’t do it”
I’d as ‘leaf’ stay for another pint instead.*
* – yes, yes.. .sp. etc. 🙂
“Let me leave it there.”
(looks up at photo) – (slow golf clap)
“Don’t ask me what the beers were”
Hoppy?
“No-one had nicked my GBG, note.”
I hear Si could have used something like that.
“Your art”
No, me Russ; you’re M(art)in. 😉
“Looks great”
Yes, but… are they (in)corporated?
“I was meeting Matt for curry at 7, so only had time for a half in the City Arms, ”
Hang on. Weren’t you the fellow who sank a pint of Bass in 10 minutes recently?
“a half that perked me up due to the magic powers of the plums.”
Er… don’t go jogging up any stairs after that!
(oh, sorry, that’s prunes)
“and Matt demolished a mixed grill quicker than I finished that Bass. ”
See my Bass remark above. 🙂
Cheers
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