Is there no end to the wonders of east Northamptonshire ?
There’s also a little place called Polopit, right next to Titchmarsh. I thought I’d go and explore for no reason whatsoever.
As ever, Polopit is best seen from my drone, which would otherwise have been carrying essential supplies of bottled Doom Bar to Paisley.
Polopit will soon be the only place in the UK you can go on holiday, and you’ll have to learn to love the simple pressure of the rolling hills around Titchmarsh Castle, which would be as famous as Fotheringay if anyone famous had ever stayed there.
The usual golden stone and a beaut of a church,
protected by a stray cow,
and The Two Sheep of the Apocalypse.
20 years ago the 511 souls had TWO pubs, but the Dog & Partridge was closed by Wells and barely a sign remains, leaving the Wheatsheaf to fight over gentlefolk diners/mums and toddlers/ticker trade.
Northants is best explored in Autumn, but pubs are best explored without Covid forcing you to SIT DOWN IMMEDIATELY.
Anyway, you’ll get the picture.
My notes read “Cute Indie”, which I think means Hozier.
No-one about, not even a Landlord to attempt conversation with. I’m not the best company for myself.
Clearly life in Gastroland starts at 6pm (“table for 2 for Montague”), and at 5pm we had only the drama of a son coming down to announce he’d finished his homework. At 5 o’clock. Keenie, as we say in Waterbeach.
Sometimes the beer IS the most memorable thing, and the Nene Valley Bitter from up the road was a cool, dry, yummie NBSS 3.5+. Those lacings tell a tale as much as the story board outside Titchmarsh Castle.
And just as the signs outside the loos tell a tale about the year of our Lord 2020.