Day 4 of the Great Campervan Northern Tickathon ends as we finally approach the Lakes.
You might call it “basic”, I call it idiosyncratic.
It’ll never make the GBG with only one beer (a tasty Castle Eden, NBSS 3) on the bar, but you know my views on that.
At 18:30 on Wednesday night the public looked the best bet, packed with locals, quiz night attendees, ladies watching Emmerdale and the occupants of 3 other motorhomes who wished to avoid the £15 parking charge by buying things. All human life was here. And us.
We had (“Order by number please, I can’t write down the words“) the Thai green beef curry, seafood salad and Phad Thai, a heroic effort after that fish finger sandwich earlier but someone has to save pubs.
The food was really great, Cambridge Wrestlers standard, the South London Landlord was even better.
“A Carling, Darling ?” . That wasn’t me he was asking by the way. I had the Youngers Scotch, again.
We remembered him from our stay 3 years ago, and marvelled at his work rate. “I’m knackered” he said.
Amidst the chaos and questions about Pythagoros, two chaps played chess.
Mrs RM had been studying the pudding menu for the 20 minutes I was trying to get a bill, convinced the Jam Roly Poly was 35p. I really believe she’d have succumbed if it was, and then made me finish it.
In the car park we were royally entertained by a bloke called Croc (don’t ask) who regaled us with his life story which seemed to consist entirely of drinking. We didn’t invite him in our campervan for a nightcap.