James has been back a day and isn’t missing Sheffield. Yet.
I asked him for some ideas for bloggable day trips we could do.
“Isle of Man ?” They don’t want us, the meanies.
“John O’ Groats ?”. Let’s see….
Not sure it’s even allowed under Nicola’s rules, which is a shame as I’ve never been to JoG.
Limiting the trip to Inverness would knock four hours off the time, which could be usefully deployed in Carluke or Barnard Castle on the way home.
Inverness, whose main famous son is not this chap,
but this chap.
Yes, Curry Charles may witter on about Bathgate but he’s a Son of the ‘Ness, which looked mighty fine last Autumn.
I made a good night out of it, back then, though the Clachnaharry was just beyond my reach.
High tables, electronic display screen, weird numbering system, contactless, grapefruit murk.
A pub for the American tourist and music lover (mutually exclusive in my experience); plenty of “Wow !” “Taste this Blackcurrant sour !” and “Awesome”
The burger wasn’t cheap but was possibly the best I’ve ever had, and I’m a man of burger experience.
As you can see, the Scots invented socially distanced queueing in 2019. Look how determined the bloke on the left is to not push in.
During our 5 minutes at the bar I interrogated him on
Nessie sightings the ale turnover (“flies out on curry night“) and was urged to ask for tasters at the bar. You know me better than that.
No.27 is a good cafe bar,
but always finish at the Castle (top).
They had the Windswept Werewolf on, and a little table next to the French diners bewildered by the menu, and again I thought it was wonderful.
Who says Scottish beer is rubbish ?