The sun’s out in Sheffield, I’m about to set off on more international ticking, and here I am desperately trying to stay only a month behind on the blog.
21st May, let’s finish Cumbria.
Two similar boozers just off the A69. Why oh why weren’t they in GBG21 so we could have done them when we (half) walked Hadrian’s Wall a year ago ?
Two boozers with opening times to challenge the ticker, with the Stone in Hayton shutting at 2pm sharp some days to make life exciting.
Two diners, one Old Boy in the bar, one perspex screen still in place.
All a bit perfunctory, if I’m honest, but the pint (yes !) of Twice Brewed was cool and creamy NBSS 3 stuff and I entertained myself trying to identify pop played at low volume, and contemplating an entry to the Leek Club (not THAT Leek) once our garden is fully functional.
I think you need a close up of that table;
“Any good” asked a waiting Mrs RM. “S’ok” I say.
Then we had a 90 minute wait between the closing of one pub and the opening of the Little Corby Otter. Reader, I had a sleep in the campervan. Am approaching middle-age, clearly, and need a nap.
The Otter is a gorgeously proportioned pub with less than gorgeous hours,
but at least it was open at 3pm for the League 1 play-off final and a Banksy exhibition.
One bee, often more than enough, and I guess there’s no hardship finishing Cumbria with Great Corby. If I describe this as well-kept homebrew (3, again) to confirm Mudgie’s perception (see comments) then I doubt you’ll be surprised.
It’s cool and, er, that’s about it.
“Doubt it’ll last the weekend, John“, says the charming barman to the local of this local nectar.
There’s a few in, a good atmosphere, and one young lad cheers when Sunderland score.
I consider staying to watch Ade Akinfenwa bow out of league football as a supersub, but I know by now when I’ve tested Mrs RM’s patience enough, and I really want to do some pinking.