retiredmartin

April 2024. Cromwell. Newark.

I don’t mind the weekly drives from Sheffield to Waterbeach and back, but it is a dull drive, and that’s despite Roger Protz’s excellent guide to the Great North Road.

So great joy this week as, thanks to Maltmeister’s tip, I discovered the Milestone Brewery tap at Cromwell.

Even more excitingly, I reckon I’d never been to Cromwell (pop.271) before.

A neat place made up entirely of farm houses and almshouses,

with a handsome church I left for another time.

Not only a thankful village, but also a publess one until this astonishing place with 7 day opening. That’s all week, folks.

Look, container shed and patio pubs are an acquired taste,

but it’s well-run and lively with an ’80s soundtrack,

and a good range for a packed house of gentlefolk in fleeces with dogs.

“Gentlefolk in fleeces with dogs” is an underrated section of the pub market, particularly lucrative when the food carts and pizza ovens and music nights are on. Gentlefolk love the hand lotion here.

On a wet Tuesday in April I have to take the last table under cover next to a heater, and it’s surprisingly pleasant, with an excellently crisp Loxley in extra thick glass a 3.5 (I think, you never can tell with Milestone).

I’ll stop again, I really will. And when I do I can park the campervan at the camp site next door which has Belgian beers according to Untappd.

AND I can take back the book I nicked borrowed from the informal library at a bus shelter that I expect to hear BRAPA is standing at in a year’s time.

Judging by this pile of books, they’re an intellectual lot in Cromwell;

either that or they know how to performatively impress the visitor.