The sun has finally decided to shine on the righteous again, and caught up with me in Sheffield yesterday, after a rainy Sunday.
Suddenly, with blue skies, steep hills, and pubs potentially open before Christmas 2021 I feel my Northern retirement decision vindicated.
While Mrs RM stripped wallpaper and installed white goods, I took a walk into Philadelphia, 10 minutes from home but a world away from our “vegan leftie enclave” (Mrs RM’s words).
This gritty strip of Northern Sheffield, once home to the famed Kelvin flats, is now best known as the square mile of the city with the least top ale pubs (though I’ve yet to explore Crystal Peaks).
At Upperthorpe Road you approach student central, home to 19 year old drawn by the ghost signs and Yemeni takeaways.
The two pubs either side of the Philadelphia Church offer keg relief for the intrepid traveller tired of DIPAs and marshmallow sours.
Hopefully Sheffield will be in Tier 1 tomorrow so I can survey The Office and The Philadelphia for local CAMRA.
And then I reached the Ponderosa, one of the great stretches of greenery that define the city.
James spent Year 2 at Uni in the flats a few minutes walk from here, and disappointingly could tell me nothing about the park, or the pubs, or Wendy’s fish bar.
I blame the parents.