And you’ve got Fulbourn, Hilton and Alconbury to come. #OpenThePubs
Mrs RM feels my utter despair. “The ******** are going to keep the pubs shut, aren’t they ?” I just asked her. “Get me another coffee” she replied.
But at least she’s accompanying me on my little jaunts round the flatlands of my home county, which is probably stretching the rules enough as it is.
She JUMPED at the chance to visit Sawtry, a plain Huntingdonshire village of about 7,000 bypassed by the 3 lane A1, which has failed to grace the GBG but did house one of Mrs RM’s University friends 20 years ago.
Not this house, though.
We parked up outside the British Show Pony HQ. Sawtry seemed, on first look, an unholy mix of pets, funeral homes, schools and a Peterborough suburb of a shopping arcade (no micropub though).
Golly, it makes Teversham look like Venice.
But then we saw a hill, and headed for it.
Under the terms of the Wednesbury IKEA Peace Accord (1993) I retain my privy parts by not publishing photos of Mrs RM clambering over stiles on muddy lanes. So I’ve skilfully edited her out of this shot;
But I did have a good laugh while she did so, at the entrance to Aversley Wood. Till I fell, t-over-a, into the mud myself. My best jeans, soiled*.
We pressed on. The sun was out, as it is wont to be when I’m walking.
It was a mudbath, akin to the Baseball Ground in 1977.
But you don’t drive 34 minutes to Sawtry and give up at the first hurdle.
Aversley Wood was enchanting.
And the view from the boundary definitely contained hills, our first for a fortnight.
Emerging from the mud to a tree-lined route to a tarmac road, we started to appreciate the simple charms of “that bit between the A14 and the A1 without many pubs in it“.
Once on the tarmac we passed a dozen dog walkers strolling out past a cluster of new housing developments towards the Giddings, which are where I’ll be heading if pubs don’t re-open on the 2nd.
Dave “US” Southworth asked if I’d been to all the Cambridgeshire pubs, and Sawtry was a painful reminder that there’s still dozens in the north of the county awaiting my visit for a half of Doom Bar.
The Ex-Servicemen’s Club has a sign advertising Fosters so is probably your best bet.
Greystones looks more like Guest House than boozer,
and The Bell is a bit spoilt by the Just Eat livery.
Talking of food, as we often are, it was now nearly 1pm and we were famished. Sawtry Club Sandwiches looked the best bet.
At 1.30 we were STILL waiting for our Coronation Chicken and Brie and Cranberry baguettes. Along with a huge queue of, oh, two others.
“It’s Brie and STRAWBERRY !” said Mrs RM. “Taste it !” Tasted fine to me.
The assistant from SCS, which sounds like an ’80s soul band, ambled across the road to our seat on the green.
“Sorry you had to wait. It’s been UTTER madness today“
“There’s your blog title, UTTER MADNESS in Sawtry” said Mrs RM.
That’s why I married her.
*No, not that kind of soiled. Wrong blog.