retiredmartin

December 2023. Sheffield.

Winter came early to Walkley, a layer of snow on Sunday scuppering any exciting travel plans we might have had (though oddly Manchester had escaped).

The snow, which never seems to last long here (good), was clearing on Monday before I could emulate the Tynemouth Lodge’s Bass Snowman.

By 4pm I’d done 3 loads of washing, 3 blog posts, scored 3 albums of the year and ditched 3 plans to do a pub by train.

I took a walk up the hills just as the drizzle descended, and found myself at the foot of Birkendale Road.

It’s the quieter cousin of showy Blake Street, one of the steepest in the world if you believe their tourist brochure.

Birkendale doesn’t have the scenic views and “look at me” handrails, but it has cobbles,

and a tiny little footpath at the top that brings you back to the Blake Hotel,

where you ask yourself the eternal question;

“Straight home to make tea for Mrs RM or a pint in the Blake”.

**** it it’s fine, as Olivia would say. Except she’d say it in quotation marks.

Still one of THE great Sheffield pubs, despite some complex ownership changes and the continued existence of that hill. Incidentally, I read yesterday that at least attendee at the Sheffield CAMRA Members Weekend this year complained about those hills, which shows that levelling up is urgently needed.

The “excuse” for my lightning visit was to ask whether the Blake was to open up on 25 December (A: yes), now that I have a Christmas tradition to maintain, but sadly the beers proved just too good,

with a half of Torrside (NBSS 4) and a pint of Hartington (NBSS 3.5+) calling, and some excellent conversation at the bar, largely about the area’s Monkey obsession.

I did ask the Sheffield Hatter to join me, but he was down the hill in the Wellington drinking 8.4% nectar, and I did ask Mrs RM, but she never reads messages.

Will we make it back for a pint and crisps on the 25th ? I can hardly wait.