retiredmartin

May 2023.

We only had the company of the Southworths for a lunchtime beer and curry on their UK trip, but what a beer and curry it was.

Bradford, you never let us down.

We started off at the Waterstones, searching in vain for the 1975 Good Beer Guide.

Perhaps the most gorgeous book shop in the country.

The Midland Hotel we’d just left wasn’t too shabby, either.

But it would be hard to make a case for the walk from Foster Square through the modern retail outlet car parks to the Corn Dolly, bar the odd weird attempt at a wedge pub;

Dick and Dave had missed the Corn Dolly on their pre-Covid crawl.

They entered at opening time to this;

Now, I almost felt emotional that they’d put Dylan on especially for our two Zimmerman fans.

The Landlord soon assured us the guy pumping coins into the jukebox was just picking the longest tracks to get full value, and sure enough “Bat Out of Hell” and “Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands” were soon playing. I would have picked “O Superman” (8 minutes) but the jukebox fly (is that a thing ?) was still standing there as we left.

Now most of you know the Corn Dolly is a classic, particularly on karaoke nights, but it was also the perfect place for old friends to catch up and argue about who got the fifth pint of Boltmaker.

“Three ?” said Dave ?

“A three” I agreed.

If Essex is an NBSS 3.5 county, Bradford is an NBSS 3 town.

Which is fine, when the pubs are a5.

Mrs RM and I then made a management decision to head to Jinnah’s for Sunday lunch, rather than argue about the relative merits of the International v Kashmir etc etc.

You might remember Jinnahs from March, a smart Pakistani restaurant place catering for a huge wedding and a few locals having a Sunday roast (honest). Goodness me we looked like scruffs compared to that wedding party.

We picked the dishes (Lamb tawa on the bone, again, and a sensational Peshwari naan) that would take 45 minutes, and got treated like royalty and old friends at the same time, which is quite a trick. One of the most memorable meals of my life, and I’ve had a Chinese takeaway in Harare.

Back at the Midland, where we found the secret passage leading to Forster Square and our train home;

Except it didn’t, really, it just took you out the back of the hotel to the weird statue.

Which is fine, and probably a metaphor for Bradford. Possibly.