I’m taking notes on all the Sheffield Chinese takeaways, of course. NCTSS 3.5, good but no Chung Hwa.
Thank you for your helpful advice on keg care. Sadly, Mrs RM seems to have finished off the barrel of Bradfield Blonde this lunchtime (#PubWoman) before I got a chance to test that advice out.
Note the Christmas tablecloth and Yule log for birthday cake, though. I am concerned MY DAY is getting diluted by proximity to a Roman pagan festival we should have ditched centuries ago.
Before that feast I’d had a second, more energetic stroll with James, whose pace is rather different to that of Mrs RM (who rather resented the use of “Dawdle” in that earlier post“).
Mrs RM and I have moved to Walkley, James is attempting to move a few minutes south to the area known alternately as Philadelphia/Hillfoot/Upperthorpe, from which he will be able to send washing up and down the supply rope back to his mum.
It’s very steep, be great when it snows.
James is one of few folk able to walk at my pace, especially uphill, but he can’t predict my sudden lurches to the left to take pics of old pubs.
At least he knew that the Nottingham House, near his 1st year Uni digs, was famed by students for
etched windows pizza.
Our route took us through the heart of student-land,
to the only open public toilets for 7 miles, at the foot of the Botanic Gardens.
James doesn’t understand the impact of 3 pints of Bradfield Blonde on the bladder.
He doesn’t understand my love of street art (see top) either.
This joy is tucked down the rather dull Summerfield Street, south of centre, but that leads via to a real splash of colour on London Road.
Keg pubs, high rise, 237 takeaways and Wonder Woman.
Yes, those two may be keg, but who wouldn’t prefer a pint of Smooth in The Barrel over a cask takeaway on their own sofa (in underpants or not) ?
I shall be back to explore London Road when pubs re-open.
Crossing the ring road brings you to the brutalist joys of central Sheff.
This may be the ONLY building for 3 miles that ISN’T a new home for Students. I presume that all students are being trained how to build, sell and finance student accommodation.
My unguided tour took us through the hitherto unexplored (even by James) west central suburb. Light industry, graffiti and more student flats. James was a blur.
But we emerged, blinking, into the light of Victoria Street, and one of the city’s gems.
Is there anything in life worse than a shut pub ?