I spent Bonfire Night at the Travelodge in the picture postcard location of the M18/M180 motorway services, because I’m worth it.
Not only was it £33, and gave me 20% over the overpriced confectionery at WH Smith, but it allowed me to walk to my final South Yorkshire tick for GBG 20.
Look closely at the OS extract and you’ll see the footpath from the Travelodge to Jack Hawley at the Grange*.
I nearly turned back. Good job I didn’t as a day later the area looked like this;
Again, my sympathy to the residents of Fishlake and around. At least they got a visit from Mr de Pfeffel Johnson out of it.
2 miles from Fishlake, Hatfield (not this one) got a rare visit from me, and splendid we both looked too.
It took all my effort to stick to the one true path of GBG entries with possible John Smiths at hand.
You could easily miss the Jack Hawley, set at the back of a posh looking courtyard, and I know who probably will.
If you get this far, there’s another obstacle for the toper on his sixth pint…
It’s a thin narrow room, the sort of place Scarfolk Council meet on Thursday nights.
Clearly folk come in groups, which is nice, but I can see I’m going to have to sit on my own at the end of the row of tables and feel left out of conversations about mincemeat.
I attempt conversation with the Landlord, who may be called Jack.
“Which one goes quickest here ?** ”
“I don’t know, I only work here”.
Oh, OK. I stare blankly, see the Tim Taylors livery and plump for the Boltmakers.
From the comfort of my seat I can see that virtually EVERYONE is drinking Moretti.
The Boltmaker is well presented and a clear NBSS 3, but no award winner.
More importantly, how do you join in a conversation in a micro filled with mates ?
“Hello I’m doing all the pubs in this book, can you mark it with my green pen please ?”
In fairness, the room was filled with laughter; it was one of the happiest places I’ve visited in the Guide.
“Hilary just died”
“You’re not having another one !”
“I’m 72 I don’t care”
There was also a joke about an Irishman on board the Titanic I’ll share with the crew in Shifnal, but wokeness prevents me printing here.
“Oh no that’s awful”
“It made ME laugh” I said. Heads turned to appraise the stranger.
I stayed for another half of Patriot (NBSS 3.5) decanted beautifully into my pint glass.
I even had the change ready. “Luvly !” said the Landlord, perking up.
There’s a fine line between pubs you enjoy and detest, especially in microland.
*What is it with these convoluted South Yorkshire pub names. First Jemmy Hirst at the Rose & Crown…
** What’s wrong with that question, Beew Twatter. Why shouldn’t I get the freshest pint. Have you never asked what’s the most popular dish in a restaurant ?