retiredmartin

July 2024. Cambridge.

Two pints in Cambridge on a Monday afternoon, and an abject failure to bring you anything new and exciting.

But I understand some folk prefer old and brilliant to new and inconsistent, so I’d recommended the Cambridge Blue to the lovely Histon (via Walsall) couple I’d bee chatting to in the Kingston.

They’d never heard of the Blue. Or Gwydir Street. My directions “left out of the Kingston, left again at Hooper St, NO not the Petersgate, right at the top where there’s a Tolly Cobbold sign. Can’t miss it“.

And then set off there myself, wondering if I’d remember them in 10 minutes time if they caught me up.

Gwydir Street was doing Gwydir Street things,

a dad brings in his family’s left out box of “Help yourself” DVDs (“They’ve left the Saving Private Ryan !“).

I note it’s 18 months since I last popped in the Blue, and perhaps if I had the sort of spreadsheet analysis that better Pub Men pretend to keep you’d see visits dropping from monthly to annually over the years.

Still, Jethro holds sway, and after a slight worry that it’s all cider on the bar,

I randomly pick the one with a silly pump clip,

and head for the breweriana room.

It seems quieter than it used to be midweek (all in the garden), where have the blokes my age gone ?

I sense this pint of the unfamiliar Mighty Oak is going to be a test for the Blue, on a quiet Monday afternoon where the trade splits over cider, lager, keg and soft drinks for the virtuous student crowd (“There’s a conspiracy against vegetarians !”).

But, as I can never lie, that Stetson is a cool, chewy gem (NBSS 3.5/4). And the trade is still there, all under canvas in the garden on the 3rd day of Summer (the other two were in March).

As good as ever, really. Never change, Jethro.

(Unless you wish to add Bass as a permanent pump, obviously).