retiredmartin

January 2024. Boroughbridge.

As is traditional, Mrs RM had left something behind in the Durham Hotel, so we had to return home via Seaton Carew, which added 2 minutes to our homeward journey.

2 minutes might not sound a lot to you, but it all adds up and I have entered it into the Register of Spousal Transgressions (available on request to Patronised readers).

Journeys back from the (Real) North often include a stop at the Morrisons in Boroughbridge, just as trips south always feature the Markham Moor McDonalds. We are creatures of habit.

Mrs RM wanted an uninterrupted half hour to buy the vegetables for stew, so I kindly left her to it and walked into “town” to see if the town (pop. 3,405) had acquired a craft bar or micro.

Well, obviously not, it’s Boroughbridge, capital of the North Yorkshire pashmina and Barbour community, and the town’s 3 pubs and social clubs are bastions of resistance to craft.

Plenty of places for BIAB infill (WTF ?),

and two (2) cobbles squares. It’s very NICE.

The lock-up has the local history display. Open air museums are to be treasured.

For many years it had two GBG entries, too, the immaculate Black Bull where we stayed in 1997,

and the Heritage Three Horse shoes, though it’s the rambling Crown which has the rooms.

The Horse Shoes isn’t called the Horse Shoes these days, of course. It’s Tap on the Tutt,

which is a dreadful name, and although they may have kept the interior they’ve increased the number of beers, which is always a backward step, isn’t it.

Back at Morrisons, Mrs RM had bought the shop’s entire supply of Non-Alcoholic beers. And you thought adding 2 minutes to the journey home was bad…