retiredmartin

December 2025. Sittingbourne.

Back to my campervan overnighter in Whitstable last week, as I leave Mrs RM in the glamour of the Spoons and nip off to Sittingbourne to tick the sort of new GBG entry our Mudgie would appreciate.

He did like his historic towns, though perhaps Sittingbourne would have appealed less.

In fact, the only blogger who’s ever said nice things about ancient “Sīdeingasburna” is (checks internet) me.

My campaign to get the town one of those little complexes with Travelodge/cinema/Loungebar was clearly successful,

but that’s clearly not bringing in tourists from Maidstone, let alone Maidenhead.

But a pedestrianised high street goes a long way, almost as long as the branches sprouting out of the roofs,

and the art down the alleys is still there.

But our Guide pub is 5 minutes sprint south, an ultra rare Sheps backstreet boozer. in the Guide.

Actually, a bit bare boards for Mudgie,

but an unimproved gem, probably best experienced a bit later than 10 minutes after 2pm opening.

The Master Brew hadn’t arrived, so Spitfire it is, the best for a while (NBSS 3.5) even if that’s not saying much.

It’s quite easy to join in a conversation about bank closures and the fact most people have no idea what “pending” means, but with Mrs RM taunting me with photos from an exciting looking Whitstable I decide to drink up and whoosh back to the station,

rather than lingering to revisit the local micropubs and stare in awe at the graffiti en route.

“They wouldn’t have been open anyway” says Mudgie.