It was the best of months, it was the worst of months.
September was by some way the most stressful month of my adult life, a month that started in a field in
Wiltshire Dorset and saw some of the most manic journeys imaginable, even by my standards;
In the August Stocktake telling you I was a mere ten (10) hours away from Orkney and GBG completion glory. As it happened that final journey started in Waterbeach and took fourteen (14) hours, a journey taking in closures on the A1, biblical level downpours and the news of her the Queen’s demise.
It seemed a portent of doom, or at least a closed pub in Kirkwall, but two days later THAT final tick on Rousay brought a sense of redemption.
And oddly emptiness; what NOW ?
Well, lots of time spent in Waterbeach with Mum & Dad exploring the deep cuts on the Chung Hwa menu, I suspect. They’ve started on the Thai dishes while I stick loyally to the Crispy Beef, like a sad old bloke sticking to the Bass while the rest of the world drinks peanut butter DIPAs.
And attempting to catch up with blog. I’m still in mid-July, so it’ll be a while before you read about my Pub of the Month, St Ola in Kirkwall the pick of a Magnificent Eight on that penultimate night before Rousay.
That’s Swannay’s Scapa Special on the table above (don’t judge Mrs RM for the half pint, she’d only just moved from pints), a beer I came to love very quickly.
But Beer of the Month, unexpectedly, was Sam Smiths Stout, captured here on an ancient Kodak during a Sheffield CAMERA meeting.
Who knows what October will bring ? But surely the sun will still rise, as it did majestically over Larmer Gardens at the end of a music festival I mostly missed, but will never forget.