RIPLEY TALES

Mrs RM was keen to join me on these ticking trips; I think she thinks it’s all like BRAPA. To disabuse her of the notion GBG ticking is exciting, I let her accompany me to Ripley.

Ripley (pop. 20,807) is one of the many old mining towns in the Amber Valley that no-one visits because they’re not Belper. Unless they’re a GBG ticker, of course. The Beehive and the Talbot are good, but a bit out of town.

Ripley always seems interchangeable with Heanor or Eastwood, or at least it did till the latter two went micro mad.

Which leaves Ripley feeling a bit left out now, something I wanted to redress except that it was a miserable Saturday and Mrs RM had no intention of letting me stand gazing at dead buildings.

Or comparing potato prices (why does “potatoes” have that “e” ?).

The Red Lion is one of those uncompromising East Midlands Spoons that Life After Football makes a living reporting from (see also : Coalville). I wish we’d gone in.

But I’m always desperate to get inside a micro before it unexpectedly closes, even though Tom Said keeps decent enough weekend hours.

What did Tom Say ?

Quite a lot, all of it entertaining and mostly about his allegiance to Dingwall’s finest.

We caught it a bit early for much excitement, but there was great conversation about home deliveries to “Codnor Castle” and Christmas Day opening. I was tempted to change my Xmas plans.

Two halves, one OK, one very good, but no food. So we headed to a bustling little pedestrianised street with tempting pastries.

Sadly the turkey baps we had were a bit dry, ketchup and brown sauce being no substitute for apple sauce and stuffing. Should have gone to Spoons for lunch.

But never mind the grub; what can anyone tell me about Victors Bar ?

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