retiredmartin

March 2026. Nottingham.

The Americans were in town in early March, giving me as busy a gig schedule as I’ve ever had. Actually, Leith Ross is from Ontario, but since Russ is taking a break from commenting I can confidently tell you that Canada is now part of America, and who wouldn’t want to be ?

Back from gigs in London, straight off to see Leith (as in Sunshine on) in Nottingham, where I’d promised myself a dry day since I’d completed the GBG entries there.

But a group of four lads were heading towards the Olde Trip at dusk, and I felt duty bound to overtake them and win the battle for the bar.

Folk dress for battle on a Friday night in Notts.

Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem may rely on the tourists and burger market at lunchtime, but evening sees it as firmly on the “lads weekend pub crawl circuit” as it was 30 years back.

“Down in one !” shouts one.

“I’m too old for that !”. He is.

I seem to have skipped a pint when giving Matt a guided tour of the Trip in 2022, so time to see how cask is holding up here.

The chap in front looks bemused at the choice (and there were four more pumps round the corner), so nervously picks the one with “Nottingham” on it. It’s an approach I intend to adopt in Tashkent if I get there.

It’s a manically full pub. There’s a table for two under the rock ceiling with a Moretti glass that seems to deter the ditherers so I pounce, and get the joy of proximity to a group of four perusing the menu with bewilderment.

They’re drinking coke, orange juice, rosé and lager,

that pint of lager barely touched by the time I’d finished my EPA (NBSS 3.5, drifting to 3) 15 minutes later.

It’s a fun place, perhaps even more fun if I’d seen the Old Peculier first,

and unlike Sam Smiths you won’t get told off for taking photos.

But your readers may chide you if your pictures suffer from glare, and next time I’m taking Mrs RM. She’s got a better phone, you know.

_{NB For the avoidance of doubt, I care not one jot about the history or age of the Olde Trip}