retiredmartin

April 2026. Lincoln.

South Herts have made a splendid job of organising this week’s CAMRA Members Weekend, putting the emphasis on pub crawls curated surveys of licenses premises.

If you’re in St Albans this weekend and see Paul Mudge, don’t forget to buy him a half.

They’ve also just produced a leaflet promoting “pubs by bus” around remote villages like Braughing, which rhymes with laughing.

That sounds a great idea, unless you’ve ever been on a bus.

The 56 Interconnect was due to whisk me the 23 stops to the Adam & Eve in Wragby, then bring me back to Lincoln 50 minutes later. Perfect.

I admired the sleek design of the new bus station,

contrasting with the fading grandeur of the railway across the road.

Lincoln is a well-thought out city, with rail, bus and multi-storey car park in the centre by the shops, with football ground and cathedral half a mile in either direction.

If only the buses turned up. I joined a queue of three dozen gentlefolk and an earnest young lad who’d set off at 9 that morning from Barnsley on a 6 hour trip to Skegness.

The electronic display told us confidently that the 56 was approaching (nope), and then confidently that it had departed (nope), confirming the superiority of AI in these matters.

“It’s running 45 minutes late” said the lad, resigning himself to an evening pint in Skeggy Spoons.

I could have hung around for another hour in Lincoln, but would that mean I’d be stranded in Wragby, voted the 18th worst place to be stranded in.

Nope, I cut my losses and bought a plum bread from Chattertons.

Actually, chatty young staff, dry loaf. I never learn.

Cornhill looked bright and smart,

though the loss of Sam Smiths Cornhill Vaults still cuts deep.

Talking of Sir Humphrey, I briefly thought about walking Steep Hill to Widow Cullens Well,

but since I wouldn’t be able to take photos or notes there didn’t seem much point.