Yes, I call Mrs RM “Christie“, rather than Mrs RM. Honest.
She’s busy doing something called “work”, so my latest trip east of the A11 was a solo trip.
She missed a treat, and I didn’t even bring her back a four pack of Punk.
This is horseracing country as well as commuterville, the eastern finger of Cambs that the local CAMRA branch need minibuses to reach. No trains, though you could walk from Dullingham, but of course you won’t walk.
WhatPub shows a fair smattering of pubs when you untick the “open” qualifier, but few of those have entertained the GBG ticker recently, with the Chestnut Tree the marvellous exception.
Let’s start at Brinkley’s Red Lion, yet another village pub to escape the grip of those Bury St Edmund folk.
They’re co-ordinating prescriptions for the 391 villagers, apparently; Cloudwater DIPA isn’t a prescription drug.
Wiki says : From time to time the residents invite everyone with the surname Brinkley to come to the village fete, And that’s yer lot.
Lovely network of walks through wheatfields. Who could resist a place called Westley Waterless ?
Westley W’less, as it’s no doubt known on the vidiprinter, looks a wealthy village.
Possibly even a hamlet of 132 souls, since the lovely St Mary’s is only open for special occasions such as when BRAPA visits while the Red Lion is closed.
No VITAL buildings in Westley, but the phone box has been commandeered to provide essential supplies, such as lentil soup and Dawn French. A wonderful idea.
Having furloughed the security guard, a lone plastic duck stands guard at the gate of Westley Parish Hall*.
A mile of bridleway brings you to Burrough Green, home of the smile,
the primary school on the vast village green, and yet another Greene King escapee in The Bull.
Two pubs I still need to revisit so I can blog about every pub in Cambridgeshire
and tell you how IPA is a misunderstood beer.
The next footpath takes you back toward Brinkley, where you’ll find another of BRAPA’s lost hats.
Someone will know why the owl of Brinkley has a blue stone on his head.
In 2 hours I passed 7 people, 2 of them on children’s bikes.
On the last stretch to the mysterious Willingham Green, I saw not a soul.
You could fit the whole of Britain in the parish of Carlton-cum-Willingham and they could still socially distance. Probably.
Your neighbours might be a bit annoyed though.
Two hours, two dead pubs, seven people, one duck, one Parish council agenda, which were STILL more interesting than the last CAMRA AGM, it seems.
If you wanted to join Zoom to question that £36 payment to the CPRE, you’re too late.
*You’ll be glad when the pubs re-open and this nonsense stops, won’t you ?