retiredmartin

What a great month August was. OK, there was no actual sun, but as long as you stayed away from the tourists at the coast it was fine. I seemed to get around a fair bit, despite the British seaside being off-limits.

Actually, I did touch the sea (not literally, it’s cold) at Bridlington and Hale, whose view across the Mersey was an unexpected highlight of the month.

Inland, the place that really impressed me was Bishop Auckland, whose gorgeous mix of architectural styles and quartet of basic GBG boozers should be attracting tourists from Cornwall if you ask me.

Plenty of great food as pubs and restaurants seemed to return to normality and some healthier levels of trade. A couple of great curries, and a wonderful spicy squid in the unprepossessing setting of Chilli Aroma in the backstreets of Sheffield.

Quite a bit of non-GBG pubbing, include a Life After Football approved tour of the keg boozers round Birmingham City.

THIS is what pubs are all about, I thought,

as Mrs RM and I tackled the thirds and crafty burgers at Heist, the Sheffield opening of the month.

Some interesting stats for you;

Eighty-seven (87) different pubs visited, of which fifty-three (53) were new GBG ticks, which left the lovely pink map looking like this;

and left me tantalisingly 499 short of completing the Guide at just under 90%.

I’ll do that GBG spreadsheet post. When I can be bothered.

How good were the pubs ? As good as they were in Summer 2019, though tonight in Sheffield I noticed a few closing earlier and that’s never a good sign.

Pub of the Month – North Mymms Social Club, for the welcome, the cob, and the lacings on the 6X.

Beer of the Month is another old favourite, the ESB in the Victoria, the highlight of a first trip to the Smoke in too long.

SEPTEMBER PREVIEW

My priority is to keep Matt drinking the cask he enjoyed in the City Arms (top) and Stockport as that will save real ale ensure I get a decent pint.

But mainly, September is the month I take the first campervan for the coast after the holiday makers leave, probably finding all the pubs on “Winter Hours” and unexpectedly shut.

Expect much whining and gnashing of teeth as I attempt another 53 ticks or more and see BRAPA streak ahead.

But first of all, I’m heading to the End of the Road Festival on Cranborne Chase, where I’ll be attempting to put up a tent single-handedly (Mrs RM isn’t coming) and staying warm. Wish me luck.