Loads of positive things to tell you about Britain’s First City, but I’ll need a while to compose that post, so here’s an art shot to commemorate Nearly Bass Day or whatever it is.
The beer is Raspberry Blonde from Little Critters, beautifully left behind my bins by the Gardeners Rest, but can you identify the player on the right (not Baa Baa Toure) ?
Mrs RM is pleased to see me attacking the garden with as much vigour as I’m cataloguing my vinyl on Discogs. She saw this cover, from an album worth a minimum of £28.80, and said,
“That’s you, isn’t it ?”
Who is it ?
James didn’t know, but he did know a rather pleasing walk to Bole Hill, 10 minutes west of us.
The hills overlooking the Rivelin Valley were packed with those terrible young people you read about in the Daily Mail, drinking sensibly, keeping their distance and picking up their litter. It’s shameful.
We walked back home via the Cobden View, ironically named as I know of nowhere called Cobden.
Sheffield really does do a good job of solid, stone built pubs selling Bradfield Farmer’s Blonde, doesn’t it ?