retiredmartin

April 2026. Lincoln.

Easter Monday means one of a) pubs you expect to be closed are open, b) pubs you expect open are closed, c) trains don’t run, or d) you’ve got a hangover from Sunday night.

I took a punt on the Adam & Eve in Wragby, a dining pub half an hour bus ride from Lincoln station.

Yes, 2hr 44min from home for a single GBG tick. That’ll be Simon’s fate as he approaches the last 25% of the Guide.

The trip takes you past such honeypots as Worksop, Retford (patience!) and Gainsborough before the cathedral rises to your left above the Odeon.

Irritatingly, the train arrives 1 minute after the bus to Wragby departs, so I’ve got an hour to admire St Mary of Wigford,

and unwisely nip in the Treaty of Commerce for a pint before a bus journey.

I’m glad I did. The Treaty is in and out of the Beer Guide these days,

but this was as good a pint of the inconsistent Bateman XB as I’ve had in years, cool and chewy (3.5+).

The pub opened at noon, it’s now 12:04. So I’m slightly alarmed when the landlady asks a regular if he’ll be wanting another pint of Neck Oil.

“Are you OK, John* ?” she asks another.

“I am now !” John says, gulping half his Carling in one go.

A lot of pre-match nerves, it seems, as Lincoln City build up to “their biggest game ever, you know“. And indeed their win at feckless Reading that afternoon will see them next season in the Championship, playing Spurs, Wolves and probably City if the 115 charges ever get settled.

A firsy year in the second tier since Bird’s Custard was in fashion.

It’s a comfy, narrow drinkers pub with TV screens playing Lionel Richie, whose 1978 sideburns are attracting much interest.

“Once…twice….three times” sings the lady.

“When did he die ?” asks Neck Oil Man.

They are shocked, shocked, when I tell them he’s still very much alive.

*Name changed etc etc. It was probably Jon.