retiredmartin

Mrs RM texted me (she’s very IT savvy) at 15:49 suggesting we meet back at Chesterfield station, and was confused when I told her my 14:00kick-off was in to 14 minutes of added time due to violent play.

So I suggested 17:05, which meant she’d have to entertain herself for another hour, which I sensed was more difficult for her than it would have been for me as the town was closing up (if in fact it had ever opened).

I headed west, to the West Bars, to Chesterfield’s third and final central GBG pub.

To be fair, there are more attractive options than the Chesterfield Ale House,

but few with the beer range or quality.

You walk into a room of blokes arrayed round a wall drinking cask, then up a few steps to the bar where the Guvnor pours pints of Errant In Motion. You take your pint away from the bar and SIT DOWN.

This is a classic “micro pub”, rescued from North Kent misery by offering proper level seating rather than high tables.

Will anyone speak to me ? Yes, a chap on my left chucks me a beer mat, totally blank so I can write my own slogan on it. That breaks the ice, and within minutes I’m bellowing “1977” to a chap who doesn’t know what year “Pretty Vacant” was released.

It’s very intelligent, if wry, conversation, and the beer is nectar, cool, rich and satisfying. Just as it was when I ticked it.

If you want to experience beer at its very best, come here.

If you want to experience life in all its fullness, you might instead go here;

Or do both.