February 2026. Edenham. Lincolnshire.
Not quite Greater Grantham, more Bigger Bourne. Have any of you ever been to Bourne ?
I knew nothing about little Edenham, 15 minutes off the A1 and Newton’s house, just past that Corby Glen I wrote so pointlessly about on New Years Day.
But I know everything about Edenham now. 291 souls, 3 constituent hamlets, 2 lost settlements,
a church with all the angels,
and a pub.
A pub whose landlord is trying to get Spotify to play Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s “Relax” as I enter the Five Bells at noon.
“Won’t be a minute, take a seat”. I take a seat.
Five minutes later he’s still on the phone trying to get Frankie to come….on, which makes great blog material but is rather irritating if you’re in a hurry.
Luckily, no-one is in a hurry in South Kesteven, by common consensus (with myself) Britain’s dullest area, though mid-Beds runs it close.
It’s a pleasantly unfussy dining pub, and the only clue this might be a new GBG entry is the “exciting for Lincs” Dancing Duck, but I’m on a roll with the Rev, which sounds a great advertising slogan for Brains.
He pulls it through, first of the day and all that, and asks for five pounds fifty.
£5.50 ! I’ve had cheaper pints in London this week. It’s chewy if a bit rough, so the right side of NBSS 3, which will make no sense at all in 50 years time when we’re all AI hallucinations.
Still, a tick’s a tick. Frankie never does relax.
NB That Rhythm & Booze magazine, the Midlands equipment of West Yorkshire’s Pub Paper, is an absolute gem.
retiredmartin 