Another trip to the Co-op, another stroll round an empty Cambridge, another hour spent surveying the sad sight of locked up pubs.
A few are bravely staying open for takeouts, the legendary Cambridge Blue offering 4 beers from the barrel. If I’d been walking town with an empty jug I’d have been very tempted.
Into Romsey Town where the Empress, as quirky a community local as any in Cambridge, has had yet another repainting.
10 years since it won local Pub of the Year, and still an essential stop on the way from the station to the Abbey.
Into the close knit streets south of the University, and a couple of less essential ticks for the Cambridge crawler in years past.
I can’t remember the Spread Eagle, much too lively for me, but the Cross Keys was a popular place to take American visitors when my beer knowledge extended as far as Greene King IPA. Americans knew no better, either. Its incarnation as a “Japas” bar says it all.
Next to Japas we have the memorial to Thomas Hobson, supplier of horses, a famous phrase and clean water to Cambridge.
Rumours that bottles of Hobsons Choice Bitter from the 17th century are still to be found on Fenland garden centre gift racks are largely unfounded.
An hour isn’t long for a walk, even when you’re not dodging cyclists.
Enough time to admire the Polar Institute, which houses Scott’s 1910 GBG that led him on a misguided attempt to tick a rumoured South Pole micro.
Cambridge undoubtedly looks lovely at the moment, but with all pubs, cafes, museums and loos closed it’s not a place to linger.
Still, beats walking round the garden waiting for Mrs RM to find me errands.