retiredmartin

July 2024. Sheffield.

My Saturday afternoon in London declared on three (3) new Guide ticks and no (0) pre-emptives or revisits to the Parcel Yard, whose disgraceful toilets put me off the traditional closing pint of ESB.

Those toilets almost, but not quite, put me off a late night Chung Hwa. I’m edging away from the crispy beef, but the spicy squid is now at epic levels.

As is the view over Quy Fen at 5am the next morning from my campervan.

But after a week down in the Fens with Mum and Dad it’s good to be back with Mrs RM on Sunday night to catch the last knockings of the Tramlines Fringe.

While the main event is a terrifying Brewdog nostalgia fest for Millennials who can’t get Glasto tickets,

the Fringe gives you young bands playing free in seemingly every venue in Sheffield, so I pick the Hallamshire Hotel, more club than pub,

but it’s a tick (of sorts).

Nice folk, a sort of bench seating, almost, but it won’t be detaining Stafford Paul on his next Sheffield jaunt.

Oooh, glitterballs, and those little booths where the DJ sits.

The little video below of Hexe gives no clue as to the volume from the back of the music room,

and although I thought they were great (DON’T say “Japandroids”), I kindly let Mrs RM leave after 20 minutes of sonic assault, by which time she’d finished her £6.20 Bavarian pint.

London Beer Competition brewery of the year, apparently.

Is ABK the new Holsten Pils ?