retiredmartin

October 2023. Newcastle-upon-Tyne.

We crossed the High Level Bridge from the Microbus into the Toon,

the opposite journey to the one we’d managed with my in-laws in June, a stark reminder of how far octogenarians can manage when there’s beer and cake at the end of a long walk.

Even better views today,

but I do wish Mrs RM would stop waving her expensive phone about when she’s crossing the river. There’s lots of clumsy people about (like me) who might knock it in the Tyne.

In June we’d eyed up the venerable Bridge Hotel for lunch, but turned it down in favour of cheap sandwiches from a Gateshead Asda, which seems daft in hindsight.

Having had confirmation from Dave that incorrigible is, indeed, the correct word, I will now say that the incorrigible Mrs RM insisted we not miss the Castle this time. “It must be good, they named that old building opposite after it” she might have said.

It’s so old it pre-dates the knighting of Sir John.

And that footstep was the start of my downfall.

What I’d planned as a leisurely 3 new pubs on the Tyne pre-gig started to go awry.

For a start, you can never turn down a Two by Two, one of the great new breweries.

Mrs RM is looking happy here.

Not sure if she thinks she’s getting that pint rather than a half of the stronger Brew York.

I went for a wander;

when I got back Mrs RM had that little guilty puppy face on she makes when she’s nicked some of my beer. but in truth I should have copied the table next door and had a pint of lime and soda, but if you’re a bloke you know what that leads to later.

On a Saturday without a match at St James this was a polite, mixed crowd, the sort of trip where you don’t get hen parties with inflatable phalluses, but you do get a near perfect pint of murk (NBSS 4) at perfect temperature.

I’ve always said Newcastle remains underrated as a pub and beer destination, as I was (rather stupidly) about to further confirm.