retiredmartin

March 2025. Howden.

One night back in Sheffield, then straight back out to Goole with Mrs RM in tow, kicking and screaming.

“I’ve never been to Howden” she says, like Charlene in that 1982 Motown Number 1.

“Have I ?“.

Well, we’d certainly passed through enough times, headed for East Yorkshire honeypots like Driffield and that McDonalds on the A614/A1079 roundabout.

But I’d seemingly never been for a pint here, bar the station pub the Barnes Wallis (RIP) a half hour walk away.

What bliss it was, to see an English Minster town as if for the first time. Or something.

A town that has seen some losses of late;

But retains a couple of solid old coaching inns side by side.

We kicked off in the Bowman’s. A classic Friday afternoon custom of Old Boys sitting at the bar and Young Lads playing darts.

This picture captures the 2025 in all its glory.

Mini rugby ball during 6 nations, pickled egg, charity box, “STAY SAFE EVERYONE” relic from COVID, Guinness 0.0, vaping accessories (?), Yorkies.

Honestly, it’s all there. And Tim Taylor Landlord. Every pub has Landlord these days.

The pub grub menu is a bit cheaper in Howden than Harrogate, for sure.

But the beer is cool and tasty, a comfy NBSS 3 that doesn’t turn to cold tea after 20 minutes.

I make a mental note to pop back later to try the beer with a handwritten paper label (Brakspear Gravity), and admire the way the landlady turns up Chicago’s “Hard to say I’m sorry”.

YOU may have thought differently.