February 2025. Waterbeach.
Three things are certain in life. Death, Paul Mudge resisting craft beer, and the indestructability of Retired Martin’s Aygo.
Three years after gifting it to my brother-in-law after passing 210,000 miles (in 6 years) he just sold it for scrap, “We Buy Any Car” laughing in his face, it just turned up again.
Yes, it could be yours for less than a grand. It will last forever; particularly if you drive 2,000 miles a year.
Anyway, back to funerals. The lads and Emma drove down the night before and joined us in the White House B & B on the turn into Waterbeach.
Rated “Passable” on Booking.com, these are unpretentious rooms in the former Bollywood Spice restaurant, better known as The Slap Up pub where Mum and Dad would marvel at the revolving sweets cabinet in the ’80s.
The private burial had been set for the 4th (earliest available at the parish cemetery), which upset a few because Mum’s birthday was the 5th and folk like symmetry. It turns out a family meet-up the night before on a Monday isn’t great planning, either.
The Indian restaurant at our Lodge is shut on Monday, The Sun is closed Monday, the new Biriani van at the Taps is closed Monday. The Mamas and Papas sung about it in 1966.
And at the newly re-opened (again) White Horse,
we were 3 days early for Nepalese cuisine;
Just a pint, then. None of those sister pubs under the Lapen Inns banner inspired confidence in cask, and Mrs RM had a Hobson’s Choice of Landlord or Landlord.
But the young chap behind the bar said “Try it first, real ale needs a bit of care and we’re still getting it right“, and then popped over to check Mrs RM was enjoying it.
She was; a superbly cool and chewy pint (NBSS 3.5). Sadly, I’d followed the kidz onto Guinness, an equally impressive effort.
Even with Chung Hwa I can’t pretend I’m aching to be back in the Beach, but all these spicy options aren’t enough I can vouch for the Pestuno pizza (pesto base) in the Pharmacie cafe as the ideal way to spend your daily calorie allowance.
I joined Mrs RM for an early night ahead of the adult ordeal ahead; the lads and Emma went back to the White Horse to play pool. What it is to be young.
retiredmartin 
Martin,
I’m disappointed to be reminded that too many people in recent years treat pubs as “something for the weekend” and saddened that you therefore couldn’t easily get one when it was most needed.
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Surprised to find anything open on a Monday these days !
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So the new Sunday ?
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Well, regarding when places are open an 8.08am Steerage in the The Bod on platform 1 today was my earliest pint in 59 months.
Then imagine my surprise at a pint of Harveys, and a pint of Bass, in a rural Leicestershire pub at lunchtime.
Homeward bound, half an hour in Derby was ample time to confirm that the Railway Porter was drinking well in the Brunswick.
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Which rural Leicestershire pub, Paul ?
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The Manor House at Quorn, the first pub I’ve known Harveys and Bass since the Express Tavern last October.
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Interesting choice for a day out !
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It was an annual meeting up with a life long friend who lives in Barrow and has a son working on the Great Central Railway that built the pub in 1899.
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If we can digress from beer and pubs to motor cars I shall mention that our car has gone from 10,000 to 157,000 miles in 129 months. 98% of that was Mrs Mudgie driving.
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I read that as 12 months and thought. 147,000 miles in a year. That’s not bad going.
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