retiredmartin

September 2024. Sheffield.

I’d got my need for a bit of urban exploration out of my system in Mosborough and only 4 hours after saying “Shall we go out ?” Mrs RM was ready to join me in town.

“Meet you at Leah’s Yard at 3:30” I text, completely forgetting I’ll be relying on a bus to get back. But somehow, the Number 50 is only 10 minutes late and we bump into each other outside the City Hall.

Mrs RM’s forlorn attempt to hide behind the “Women of Steel” sculpture oddly unsuccessful.

That sculpture is pretty much Sheffield central, and from it you can see the challenges and opportunities facing a city largely driven by students and pubs.

The vast John Lewis lies empty, chain retail has long moved out to a still vibrant Meadowhall, and Sheffield has decided to go upmarket. Branches of Fjallraven Kanken, Yards and Søstrene Grene have arrived, the largest purpose built food court opened last month, and now next door we have Leah’s Yard,

a small but classy development in an old cobbled artisan’s yard. You could be somewhere posh, like Halifax.

There’s art, Atelier designer clothes, and the Hop Hideout has moved here from Kommune for a rather more cosy setting for its craft beer.

OK, it’s not displacing the Bath Hotel on Stafford Paul’s next Proper Pub tour, but this is really is a cosy place to sip Imperial Stouts listening to jazz on a cobbled street. I

No, honestly, have YOU ever seen Mrs RM sip a beer.

Owner Jules came to say hello; she was a hero delivering beer up the hills during lockdown, and she’s got an excellent selection of keg and cans I can see Mrs RM becoming rather addicted to, particularly as Leah’s Yard has a worryingly good chocolate cafe next door.

And across the road, the Cambridge Street Collective will sell you a vast plate of Eritrean food; Tibs Firfer, Tibs Derek, Shiro Wet, all your favourites.

But, yes, I’m afraid that IS Guinness. They could do with letting you taking your Imperial Stouts from Leah’s Yard in to eat, like they do in Burton.