retiredmartin

December 2023. Holbeach.

Oh bless you, GBG24, engineering a long awaited return to Holbeach, the unknown quantity of the Fens.

Just look at those famous faces associated with the town.

Yes Geoff Capes of the Police fame.

A town full of history. I spent my 33rd birthday at a fancy dining pub just up the road by the Wash believe it or not.

But it’s 8 years since a long closed micro (focused on gin, from memory) got Holbeach in the Guide, and there was no sign of life in Laddies famous ice creamery either. Well, it was only 11am.

They hadn’t woken up, yet, and no-one uses Holbeach as a short cut to get to the Whaplode Fens.

I’d promised I’d spend the night here and write a 10,000 word feature on the town. Reader, I broke that promise.

But the Crown might just be my pub of the year. Well, December.

There’s only two types of Fenland pub these days. Either earthy and with a modest food trade, like the Crown,

or closed.

I’d love to know how many pubs Holbeach had, say, before the smoking ban, but in 2023 a fairly significant agricultural town has just two.

But at least the good folk know they need to patronise their pub to keep it open, and at just gone 11am I’m the 7th punter.

“PUSH !!” shouts the cheery landlord as I attempt to get in.

And, despite eschewing the beers that probably get the Crown in the Guide (Tydd Steam and Wherry) in favour of you know what (NBSS 3+), I get a royal welcome. But then I am pub royalty. Or was, once.

It’s worth coming just to hear the relentless banter between both sides of the bar, which at times resembles competitive swearing but also is incredibly interesting.

“Happy Holidays !”

“B****y Americans and their holidays. Americans don’t get any time off apart from Thansgiving and the time they close the offices for Christmas”.

I also learn about Ronaldo Ice Cream, the appalling nativity play at the local school (“Hosanna Rock”) and hear 3 different phrases for the state of inebriation of the lasses at their Christmas party.

It’s cosy, and warm, and when it’s miserable outside that’s half the battle.

And the toilet has a nice sign,

and they’ve one of those devices you roll pennies round the rim,

and after a decade they’ve raised £71.12 for the RSPB.

What a winning pub. I told Simon he’ll love it, and can almost picture him now, in brown smock and farm hat, walking to the pub from Kings Lynn in 2037. If it hasn’t been reclaimed by the sea by then.