More saving pubs outside the GBG, this time aided by trusted Covid data expert and J20 connoisseur James.
With my Mum on the mend (thanks for your kind words) but under watch I’ve committed to stay in “the county“. Let’s not argue about boundaries, folks.
I was JUST over the Beds border when the ambulance was called on Monday afternoon, attempting to find a mildly hilly walk from Sandy to Biggleswade.
These are two towns that you won’t find in any Foders or AA Guides to England, but will read about in depth on BRAPA, which frankly is a rather better manual to exploring the UK.
Sandy is known, if at all, for the RSPB HQ on the sandy hills to the east.
The town itself is named after Ebbe Sand, scorer of the fastest ever World Cup goal by a substitute.
But Ebbe is not even the most famous celebrity commemorated in the town, with the Ghandi in Sandy hopefully self-explanatory.
I used the 5 mile stroll to tell James some of the facts of life, such as the legendary status of the East Beds Indian restaurants and the Guide history of Biggleswade.
“WATCH OUT FOR THE COWS !” shouted James.
Following an unfortunate incident in Leintwardine in 2009 while seeking a short cut to The Sun, Mrs RM and our lads are wary of bovines, but they parted for me.
Here’s your East Anglian “Big Sky” shot.
Across those fields you reach a staggeringly dull new housing development that Waterbeach will soon aim to emulate (for dullness) and some genuine workers terraces from the town’s days as a centre of light industry (it’s shopping now).
The standard pub recommendation here is the spit-and-sawdust Wheatsheaf, or was until the spit became a problem.
It’s a very Greene King/Wells sort of a place.
Even the Heritage pub over the A1 in Broomserves Bury’s finest. Or used to.
James is used to me dithering, looking for ancient fonts and stencilled street art on our walks.
Monday was Day 1 of “Eat Chips, there’s good Chaps” or whatever the # is.
The curry houses open at 5.30, the Turkish restaurant was packed, so Spoons it is.
A Spoons that opened in 2017 but has yet to grace the Guide, and therefore be graced by Simon. Could this be a pre-emptive tick ?
They did, at least, have a beer that wasn’t one of The Four Spoons Usuals.
And, excitingly, someone had already ordered the Bishop’s Farewell, so it should at least be a 2.
Reader, it was a 3.5, cool and tasty, and at £1.39 as much a bargain as the halloumi, chicken bites and burger.
James had chosen a table with perspex, but with a fair amount of foot traffic either side.
It was a GREAT table choice, allowing me to observe with joy the ditherers at the entrance, the laugher of youth, the whoop of joy when Jean and Eric saw how much Rishi had knocked off the price of their lunch.
Isn’t socialism great ?
Two groups of Waders had swapped tables, to defeat Track and Trace no doubt, but at least they hadn’t moved the furniture.
A joy, only enhanced by the knowledge we were dining in the home of one of the greatest songwriters of our generation.
And YES, you can actually stay in a Spoons hotel here. Send us a postcard if you do.