retiredmartin

August 2024. Sheffield.

“Fancy a walk Mrs RM ?”.

She’s currently obsessed with her Instagram (“Oooh, nearly 2,000 views on Ramsgate !“) but it’s distracting her from her blog and, more importantly, actually getting to Moldova to complete Europe.

I picked a stroll that would tick the 10k (steps) box, give her an Instagram reel and me a new entry on “All The Pubs In Sheffield On Foot…“. And women on MumsNet don’t think men are thoughtful !

Despite the creeping gentrification imbued by incomers (er, that’s us), Hillsborough is a scruffy suburb of Sheffield, as football suburbs often are.

But a 23 year old entrepreneur called James has opened a small Natural History Museum opposite the end of the tram line,

and although I have no interest in fossilology or whatever I thought we should support young folk.

It’s only £4 to visit, you can pay more for a tutored session on fossils or help bring dinosaurs back to life or summat, and to be honest Mrs RM had whizzed around in 10 minutes while I was still starting at the first exhibit, Visiting museums is the only thing she’s better than me at.

If you’re going to be an entrepreneur it probably makes sense to pick a topic that’s a bit specialist. Before Richard Branson made billions running the UK’s (worst) rail service and balloon flights he infamously promoted a recording of tubular bells, repopularising a musical style as old as the dinosaur on display in Sheffield.

Most of the exhibits seem to come from Whitby, and although the fossils themselves are no doubt impressive if you like bits of rock (see also : my views on Stonehenge), it’s the interpretive stuff (and the dino wallpaper) that stands out.

10 minutes uphill west of the Hillsborough main drag brings you to The Castle, one of a decreasing number of Sheffield boozers I’d never got to (still never been in the Hillsborough Tap, which is less exciting than it sounds).

The Castle is an “almost wedgey” pub, 10 minutes from the stadium where Wednesday play L**ds United that night in a sort of Yorkshire derby.

We’re first in, so don’t get the benefit 3rd pull on the cask beers. Note Northern head.

In fact, I’m surprised Mrs RM goes for 61 Deep, with Beavertown on offer, but both that and the Wainwright are “fine”, in an NBSS 3 sort of way, and the Castle itself is a little gem, with the bench seating and wide windows onto the world that Sheffield excels in.

But it’s the music that’s the winner. A collection of classic LP covers on every wall,

an eclectic soundtrack veering wildly from Girls Aloud to Cat Stevens to Roger.

No, not THAT Roger.

It’s so good Mrs RM insists on sharing a 2nd pint of 61 Deep, just that bit crisper than the first (who knew that beer gets better the more you sell ?), and watching the buses go uphill to the mysterious Stocksbridge.

One day, I shall take that Stocksbridge Flyer. What’s the worst that can happen ?