Six to do in the Durham chapter (vague reference to my last tick on Wednesday night) of the Guide, but three of those are micros so, oh you guess the rest.
A second campervan trip to Durham in July, saving me the extortionate B&B charges in honeypots like Chester-le-Street and Barnard Castle, which is the new St Tropez.
Tiny Ovington‘s Four Alls has been in and out of the Guide, with awkward opening hours (remember them) denying me a trip to a gem by the Tees.
Though it feels a little rural; I got lost in the cornfields trying to get to Barnard.
The Four Alls had kindly brought forward their opening times, presumably just for my visit.
Tipping up 10 minutes early, the door was wide open. Oooh.
“Ring bell for entry” it said.
I did. Nothing stirred. I took the shot of the thermometer.
After a minute (which as we know always feels like an hour) the Landlord came to the door with a smile on his face.
“Have you booked ?”
I won’t get used to this. But there was plenty of space in the garden so all was fine.
Business was brisk, he said, confirmed by about 10% of the local population tipping up while I was there. Gentlefolk back in pubs, nature healing.
I got a choice of a dark one or a pale one from local Mithril. Except it wasn’t really a choice, was it ? You have to go for the one with the comedy name.
It was cool and refreshing, enjoyed with a view of a famous maypole and locals wearing shorts.
Shorts ! In Durham !