retiredmartin

February 2026. Letchworth Garden City.

According to the times on my photos, I left my first Letchworth pub of the afternoon at 16:27 and entered my fifth at 17.29, which even by my standards is going some, particular with a detour to the old hosiery factory and some nostalgia thrown in.

You’ll guess my last pub from the carpet;

the legendary Three Magnets being of the “so bad it’s good” variety. In Cambridgeshire the market town JDWs have become genteel meeting places for the OAPs of St Neots, St Ives and Huntingdon, but Hertfordshire Spoons are grittier affairs, the preserve of professional 9am drinkers from Hemel to Potters Bar.

I’ve seen actual aggro in Timbo’s outlets in Royston and Letchworth, including a police raid on our wedding anniversary a decade ago.

But the welcome is great, there’s laughter in the air, the cask cheap GBG quality,

with some interesting guests,

and a half (sorry) of Abbot (not sorry) is a chewy NBSS 4.

Never change, Three Magnets.

Ooops, 6 minutes to my train, and a dask through the Arcade takes in Trichologist Solutions,

and a nostalgic display of the cap awarded to players of Letchworth Athletic FC in their Delphian League days.

And then across to Station Road, where Dragon King is a decent Chinese buffet despite looking like a pub,

and then a guard shouts “The 17:48 is waiting for you NOW !“.