Wednesday means wandering, and a withering retiredmartin made it to Wetherby* in 2:30 hours before needing a “comfort break”.
Wetherby hasn’t given me any new GBG ticks for a decade. And, like 99.7% of the other problems in the world today, that’s all the fault of Leeds.
Not just the damned United version, either.
As Richard was always keen to remind me, Wetherby is a part of Leeds, which has gobbled up the Guide allocations of its little cousins to the west. Has Boston Spa EVER had a GBG entry ?**
But the town has charm, and a car park called “The Cluster of Nuts“,
and a Marks & Spencer food store with discounted deli bits, and a Sam Smiths pub I’d have finally nipped in for a half it had been open,
and one of the finest riverfronts anywhere just off the A1.
Leave the toddlers to their splashing and ’99s by the bridge and walk along the Wharfe to the unexpected rocks and drama of the A58 flyover, where in 2011 two lads forlornly chased a plastic football (bought 3 hours previously in Blyth) that evaded them and ended up in the North Sea.
Somewhere round here you’ll spy the iconic Brain Licker bottles (top) bought on the Spanish black market by Leeds ravers in the ’90s.
Back in town, I did the Heritage Tour.
We stayed here, once, in 1994. The lovely Don and Joan, in their ’60s, provided B & excellent B for £32 to tempt away folk who couldn’t afford the posher Swan & Talbot.
The pubs round here looked solid and workmanlike, and it’s probably no surprise that Muse/Mews/Moos has dallied with the Guide this century.
Stop awhile and rest your weary legs, and buy rare boiled sweets at The Candy Shop, whose Army & Naval herbal sweets have not gone down particularly well with Mrs RM on our journey back from Ellesmere this morning.
But then Mrs RM doesn’t have to take cough candy to dull the taste of homebrew, does she ?
*Courtesy of Alluring Alliteration Association Ltd.
**Joking, of course. Leeds just has the best beer.