It’s always important to get Bedfordshire clear before the end of October, before the tourists arrive in their masses.
My last tick comes in the tourist honeypot of Upper Dean, just south of Thrapston Services and not far from that Ellington pub that BRAPA loved when I drove him round the Hunts.
Look how frantic the High Street of nearby posh Kimbolton was on Sunday.
By law you have to photograph Kimbolton in black and white to preserve its 1950s character.
But rules are there to be broken, as in Sam Smiths pubs.
Actually there’s a wedding fayre this Sunday at Kimbolton Castle, so you may see a bit more activity on the B645, probably in the obligatory French restaurant.
Just west of Kimbolton, Upper Dean, as well as Nether Dean and Lower Dean, have escaped my attention for 54 years.
I arrived as the crabapples lay still on the ground, until I crunch them in my Eichmann shoes.
An autumnal part of the world, particularly up towards Oundle where the world conkers championships take place.
In Upper Dean the only excitement comes from a stiffly worded letter from the clerk of the parish council appended to the notice board. Recent roadworks saw the village cut off from civilisation, apparently.
The locals may, therefore, not have been able to get to Rushden WH Smiths to buy their new GBG and find out the Three Compasses has put them firmly on the map (Page 36 to be precise).
A typical rustic ex-Charles Wells village pub packed with OAP diners who eye me suspiciously when I pop in for a beer.
I eye the complimentary nuts with even more suspicion, and make the wrong beer choice, as the sole bloke seated at the bar orders his third Tribute of the session.
Above the sound of gentlefolk whispering, “Easy Lover” and “The Gambler” play, both entirely inappropriate for the clientele. The only excitement comes when the chips arrive.
My IPA is solid but leaves indistinct lacings, a fact I decline to share with the munchers.
But wait, what’s this in the Gents ?
Wilko luxury hand lotion. All is forgiven.
retiredmartin 
My choice would have been the Landlord. Had an excellent pint yesterday, in the village pub, after being asked to take our visitors from Kazakhstan and their Russian speaking interpreter for lunch. 😀
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The best beer, but rarely cellared for long enough in my experience.
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I trust that no one mentioned Borat, Paul?
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Sacha Baron Cohen was not mentioned, Etu.
All joking aside, our visitors were positively charming, and the Russian interpreter we engaged was nice and very efficient as well.
The joys of working to expand our sales in other parts of the world.
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Yes, it’s obvious that in 5 years time that will be one of the national network of emergency BRAPA ablution centres.
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Well, as you’re asking. Clearly a very old table, possibly an early Pepper Bros example from the turned legs and square upright netting. The sides are replacements I’d say, curvy like a WT Black & Son table, they look wrong to me. So difficult to say… You couldn’t crawl underneath and have a look for a some stencil markings for me?…
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In the words of Eddie Reader, I’m never going back again.
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Quite a rare George V Ludlow postbox there.
“apples lay still on the ground” were in the news yesterday, uncertainty about Brexit meaning that there’s not the usual seasonal workers from the continent to pick them. I predict a cider shortage next year.
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There’s plenty of Tim’s customers sitting on their backsides, who could earn their dole money by picking that fruit!
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Haha!
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My conscience is clear. I spent my teens picking tomatoes and potatoes on my dad’s nursery before I realised that you were supposed to sit in a suffocating office all day.
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Hey, was your father a nurseryman too?!
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Yes. Flowers and veg on edge of Fens. Yours?
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Ornamentals and veg plants in Notts!
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“plenty of Tim’s customers sitting on their backsides, who could earn their dole money by picking that fruit ”
– mobility scooters in a muddy orchard – I’m not sure
– or babe in one arm, picking with the other – I’m not sure
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Martin,
You commented “spent my teens picking tomatoes and potatoes on my dad’s nursery”.
My wife today bought some bulbs from Taylors of Holbeach.
Are you related ?
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How many fingers did they have?
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About those peanuts, remember, it is not a buffet.
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– and they’re for sharing with other customers !
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Not sure I’d want them after “other customers ” have raked their dirty fingers through them. 😁
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Oi I clean my hands annually.
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Yes, all it would need would be a spoon.
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“Oi I clean my hands annually” – whether they need washing or not !
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Indeed. Appearances are all, Paul.
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That La Cote D’Or really *would* make a great micro!
We used to have a crab apple tree behind the house, and your photo gave me a shudder as I recalled the far-too-many seasons of picking those things up and getting rid of them. Lovely flowers in the spring, but I swear in the fall it was like having a garbage factory in my backyard!
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Yes, can’t imagine how messy that pile I saw would look in a week’s time.
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But ‘nature knows no waste’ and ‘that pile’ is welcome food for all sorts of creatures.
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I am confused…is this in Kimbolton! Been there for work reasons frequently and a quaint little place…great apple picture!
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It’s Upper Dean, just down the road from Kimbolton. But I thought my loyal readers deserved a black and white picture of Kimbolton given I so rarely pass through that way these days!
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A great for us loyal supporters 👍😉
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Upper Dean, but that’s not near the Lost Dene.
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They’re twinned, Paul.
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So I can expect Pedigree and a hearty breakfast in Upper Dean ?
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They’re working on that…
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My darling better half has head catering up to the eyeballs the past few days so I’m going to start chronologically with the 25th. 🙂
“before the tourists arrive in their masses.”
Is that like a large bus; or some sort of religious thing? 😉
“that BRAPA loved when I drove him round the Hunts.”
That must have been when fox hunting was still legal?
“By law you have to photograph Kimbolton in black and white to preserve its 1950s character.”
I was going to ask if that was a new camera filter thingy.
“as in Sam Smiths pubs.”
Do you swear to that? 😉
“Non-micro”
Yet. 🙂
“Just west of Kimbolton, Upper Dean, as well as Nether Dean and Lower Dean, have escaped my attention for 54 years.”
I don’t think I’d ever by tempted to look at Dean’s nethers; or his uppers, lowers, or in betweens.
“Yes, I know what that’ll be in 5 years time”
The new hard border post in Northern Ireland?
“Typical peasants cottage”
I’m sure there’s an apostrophe missing somewhere.
“I arrived as the crabapples lay still on the ground, until I crunch them in my Eichmann shoes.”
Much easier to crunch if they lie still and don’t move. 😉
“Actual setting for Upper Dean Parish Council”
Looks a bit like one of the wife’s elder tribal councils without the teepee.
“and find out the Three Compasses has put them firmly on the map”
Whoops. Had that mixed up with the Square and Compass for a second.
“and make the wrong beer choice, ”
Don’t tell me you went for the IPA?
“Above the sound of gentlefolk whispering, “Easy Lover” ”
Good thing that comma was there!
“My IPA is solid but leaves indistinct lacings, ”
(sigh)
“Wilko luxury hand lotion. All is forgiven.”
Did you taste it, to make sure they weren’t lying about the watermelon and guava?
Cheers
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BRAPA hunting is still legal.
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Your comments take longer to digest than these posts do to write 😍
Great to have you back.
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