retiredmartin

December 2024. Farringdon. London.

Not many loo stops pubs at all, full of Santas or not, on the walk up from St Pauls through the Barbican to Angel.

But I’d found my target, a pub which 3 years ago I immediately warmed, as much as for the wonderful Old School landlord as the crafty keg, which in all fairness should have invalidated my completion of the GBG.

Then the Sutton Arms was almost empty,

now it is heaving on a Thursday evening, almost entirely youthful post-work trade, and my photos are restricted to wall art,

and hand pumps.

The Sutton has a touch of Sheffield’s Rutland or Shakespeare about, BIG cask rarities like a 1950s Burton Ruby Mild which had just that day gone off, but it did well to last seven decades.

Abbeydale Black Mass seems a bit close to home, but I’m feeling homesick for Sheffield right now, and after edging through the mass of youth and a couple of Old Boys with table reservations seated at the bar,

my first sip sends out possible NBSS 5 alerts.

And, in truth, I should have given top marks, instead of that 4.5,

but the Tand had just wrote he never scores 5, and they were playing Wet Leg, which deserves some sort of penalty, surely ?

Though, it’s now 3 years on, perhaps it’s OK to like Wet Leg again now ?