retiredmartin

April 2024. Upware.

One of my few “jobs” these days is getting Dad out of the house to a) give Mum a break and b) keep Dad sane. And if that c) saves the odd pub then so much the better.

Four main routes out of Waterbeach, almost like there’s four points on the compass or summat (left, right, forget the others), but the road north is more challenging these days for the Pub Man.

Despite the growth in housing and commerce along the A10, the 21st century has not been kind to the plain family dining pub with quirky name that dominated this part of the Fen Edge.

The Slap Up – now a guest house with Indian takeaway.

Travellers Rest – closed, now housing

Lazy Otter – closed again, despite bucolic location and expensive looking holiday park on the doorstep.

Which leaves Stretham’s up/down Red Lion, where Kentish Paul once stayed the night (there’s a plaque) and the venerable Five Miles From Anywhere at Upware, once the Cambridge undergraduate choice in times when students would think nothing of walking 5 miles.

Dad recognises his own father’s house in Stretham, and the 5 Miles is a pub Mum and him used when they had a boat to explore the Ouse and Cam 30 years ago (I crashed it once).

It’s not a pretty pub, more a functional one, but the entrance has a delightful floral display I fail to identify,

and Dad fair sprints through the former public bar to the conservatory, which would have terrified Mum.

I mentioned this visit to James yesterday, and he remembered the pub as having gone upmarket, which isn’t a description I’d apply, but the pool table and juke box have long gone, replaced with sturdy looking tables.

But the conservatory with that view to the Cam remains, and from the same table as on previous visits Dad gets to observe the pace of the river, the ferocious paddling of the ducks to stand still, the passing of time.

This isn’t a fancy dining pub, but in many ways it’s an exemplar one, with lunch from 11:30 for OAPs who like to be eating from midday, friendly but unfussy service, a simple menu,

and well-cooked meat and two five veg without pretence.

Dad’s minted lamb chump was gorgeous,

on a par with the Lord Raglan in Staplehurst that Pauline will know well. Dad noted my jealousy and added some lamb and veg onto my lasagne in exchange for a few of my excellent chips.

Beer wise, they’ve ditched the exotica and now stick to Greene King, a second successive IPA a cool and chewy (milky ?) NBSS 3+.

In the Fen Edge, it’s always 1980, and you’re never more than 5 minutes away from the ubiquitous Blondie track.

By the time we leave we’re in 1987, a rare outing for “Crazy, Crazy Nights”, and we’re in for a long run of ’80s perm rock. “Hungry Eyes”, anyone ?

I phone Mum to tell her Dad is being well fed at the Five Miles, “no hurry” says Mum.