July 2024. Cambridge.
Five stressful days down in Waterbeach, with a bit of respite in the pubs on the Mill Road run,
continuing with a pint from Waterbeach’s finest brewery in one of Cambridge’s most unspoilt boozers.
The Dev is the place I ended my leaving do in 2014, a pub revived (but not TOO much) from the, er, smoky drinking den I remember avoiding in my youth, though the menu recalls that ’90s aroma.
It has that air that characterises Mill Road, welcoming children, women, and even students.
A GBG perennial, and cider pub of the year, but I’ll stick to Pegasus thank you,
and enjoy that wonderful bench seating with a classic rock soundtrack.
It’s good (NBSS 3+), a tad syrupy perhaps. I’d go for the strong dark beers another time.
Let’s move on. Anyone recognise this place, which has a key significance in the life of Retired Martin ?
retiredmartin 
Am I correct in thinking that’s where Mrs RM proposed to you?
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I thought you meant the bench seating in the Devonshire for a moment.
I’m sure Mrs RM proposed in Letchworth Wetherspoons.
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I’m going to take a wild guess and say I was born there too.
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I don’t remember it at all !
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I recognize it. We sat in the same spot when we were in Cambridge with you, Mrs. RM and Matt.
Dick
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And if we had timed this year’s trip better we could have taken RM to see Dylan in Wolverhampton. Think of how much that would mean to him.
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I was a big Magic Roundabout fan.
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“Please return glasses to the bar.”
It’s something I generally do anyway but if I was to see that poster in a pub I’d specifically avoid doing so.
Who is going to wipe down the table and pick up the detritus of crisp packets etc for the next person ?
And judging by the photo there are two people doing very little behind the bar of a very quiet pub.
So ‘eff off and do your own job properly.
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Blimey. I thought taking your glass back was basic good manners !
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But not in Tim’s venues when it would just lengthen the queue at the bar.
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It is but the notice is a bit Blackpool B&B if you know what I mean
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I know exactly what you mean!
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Which reminds me of such a notice that said “Please flush this toilet quietly”
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What a convivial leavings do you must have had, Martin.
Mine – metaphorically speaking of course I’n not generally violent – consisted of turning round to kick back the door against they who would have otherwise have had it hit me.
What more would anyone expect after thirty three years?
Which reminds me that I’ve just been invited to a reunion
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To tell the truth, I simply piggybacked on the leaving do of a director who was departing that same month during the latest NHS reorganization.
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Ah yes. I remember “Reorganisation”.
It was the way that new management – and none of them ever stayed put for long – proved that they were Doing Something.
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To be fair it’s politicians who witter on endlessly about “reforming” the NHS with no idea what they mean and end up just abolishing or re-establishing the old hierarchy.
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After my jobs of thirty, one and ten years I crept away quietly without a leaving do, that’s as I never want to be the centre of attention.
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Leaving do isn’t for the departed. It’s to show how well management treated the individual leaving.
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good point.
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