24th February 2020
Mrs RM is doing exciting things in Sevenoaks, which sounds like an oxymoron, so I’m free to go ticking. Hurrah !
A night in North Notts, normally a highlight of the year, as even the micros seem like they want to be pubs.

Sutton is famous for having a railway station (of sorts) while big brother Mansfield didn’t and its ring of family diners called things like Snipe which dotted the GBG in the absence of much in the centre.
The Duke of Sussex is a rare newbie, a roadhouse offering pretzel burger buns and Pentrich beers.

I might go back here, to give it the benefit of the doubt after a horror visit.
As I approached the bar, I got that dreaded “What you having” that assumes you’ve no interest in looking at what’s on the bar.
It’s a Pentrich showcase, and I see a Pentrich clip, so I say “Pentrich“.
“Which one ?”
“What have you got ?” I can only see one, and there’s no beer board.
“There’s another one round the corner“. He goes to check what it is,
“Ah, it’s off”
“I’ll have that a half of that one, then“.
“£1.85 please” said with an outstretched palm expecting me to have guessed the prize and have the coins counted out.
Yes, a nightmare, even though the guvnor himself is as enthusiastic as they come.
I beat the lunchtime crowd to the best seat and peruse the burger menu.

BUT the beer is so tired (NBSS 1) I can’t stay, and I haven’t the heart for a fight at the bar , and it’s not my job to taste the beer.

As I say, whenever something is really bad I always go back, just in case it was a dream.
Three hours till my next pub, enough time for a cultural walk. I know you love culture.

I missed the culture, but captured the pubs for you.


I wasn’t feeling it for Sutton, particularly when I realised the Picture House where I’d hoped to kill a couple of hours watching “Parasite” was now a Spoons.



One of my favourite Spoons, surrounded by cheery ex-miners drinking Springhead by the jug in pretty much the only pub in town. I had two flat whites.
And then went back into the drizzle.

Trip Advisor told me the best thing to do in Sutton was shop, so after putting a quid in the hat of an Irish bloke doing Dire Straits covers I “did” the famous Idlewells.

Heron Foods, Poundland and B & M Bargains form a line on the way to the indoor market, which is actually charming, and I stock up on two quids worth of menthol and eucalyptus sweets from a lady who’s been there since 1984 (not all the time, she goes home at night).

Still, never knock a town with a mobility centre called “Complete Freedom”.
What year did quinoa arrive on menus?
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In Spoons about 4/5 years. To be honest, not seen a lot on pub menus outside Spoons, though a few trendy pubs offer “Buddha bowls”!
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Ah! We like Buddha Bowls. Though we’d like them even more if they came swimming in Miso with soft noodles and were called Ramen.
Good to see shite beer back on the blog. I’ve really missed the old plant pot days…
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You’d much prefer it if I only wrote about the poor stuff, wouldn’t you?
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Bit worried for you health, you seem to be actually ‘drinking’ the beers now. Last summer, rough guestimate, with all the plant pot disposal you drank maybe 2 pints yes?
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2.5 pints. Yes, letting the side down.
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Mobility Centre, B&M, Poundland and Vape Shop – says all you need to know about modern Britain!
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Not been to this part of Notts but appears to be suitably gritty!!
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Not as posh as Mansfield 🙁
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You missed out pet parlours, Paul.
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I must have missed that one, E.
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I like the title pic and the way it drops the half-hearted apostrophe from the second ‘Buns’, as if they had so little faith in it to start with. Sutton is typical of old mining towns that have been without investment since the loss of the main industry. Pentrich pops up around Derbyshire on a regular basis and is usually ok – perils of midweek drinking.
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We need a “midweek GBG” and a “weekend GBG” 😉
Have enjoyed Pentrich recently.
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Or better still a 24/7 GBG
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Open 7 hoursa day , 24 days a year ?
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More than some
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In contrast to Mansfield, one Notts town was so severely traumatised recently, it now has a healthy campaign for raising it’s railway station to the ground.
Like you, I also know somebody with a name in that line up. A rather large gentleman from Arkansas who was called Tank (not, as may be expected, a nickname). Probably named after his Grandpappy’s Sherman from WW2.
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You’ve not sold the town to me , despite the beer you should have gone for.
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And I tried so hard…
Actually, there’s a very good modern pub called Scruffy Dog on the edge of town I wrote about last time you would like.
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