retiredmartin

August 2023. Godalming.

You don’t make Mrs RM walk two miles from a parked campervan, to the very end of the High Street, and then retire for the night after one pub, not when you can’t get anywhere else for another new tick (I think my closest pub I still “needed” was in Uxbridge).

Not when you’ve got a rare sight of blue skies under which to enjoy a pretty Surrey town,

and take pictures which will make Americans jealous.

If only the commuter with the Fjallraven Kanken backpack had walked a bit faster this shot would have been perfect.

The shot for Mrs RM’s 100 day challenge looked perfect, though why you’d label it with the council name rather than the town is a mystery.

Never mind. Let’s revisit the Star, the perennial Guide entry (and for good reason).

And for good reason. On a Monday night it was heaving with life, busier than the Spoons, and for no obvious reason. Two good dark beers from Leatherbritches and Dorking (NBSS 3+/3.5), though most of the custom seemed to be cider.

At the bar, a girl insisted her bag of nuts was already open when she bought it. A forensic investigation was inclusive. Why is there so much nut drama in Godalming ?

Later I’d apologise for sending the barmaid down to the cellar for a half of Firebird and she’d say “No worry, it helps me get my steps in !“. Young folk are great.

Old Boys in the front bar, sultry young smokers in the garden,

middle-aged dog walkers and pub tickers in the lounge,

and an empty billiards table next to us.

I was silently cursing Mrs RM for taking up residence in this games room rather than the bar, but then the drunk billiards players arrived. “I did NOT put that mushroom* back !” insisted the drunkest.

I silently thanked Mrs RM for her foresight, and hissed at her to take the killer shot.

She may just have done it, too. Shame I nicked it for my blog first.

*I now realise they actually ARE called mushrooms.