retiredmartin

June 2026. Holme. Cambridgeshire.

We popped down early on Tuesday to see Dad on his 91st birthday with card and chocolate. He barely stirred from sleep, at least until the Salvation Army band turned up after lunch to play for him.

I couldn’t face staying down in Cambridge, so we came straight back. Finding an interesting late lunch stop on the A1 is a challenge, despite Mr Protz’s seminal guide to the Great North Road.

Ah ! Holme, home to the lowest pub etc etc etc.

Simon had just, finally, visited the Admiral Wells, seven years itch after I’d drove past during one of my Fenland DES days,

Pub 3395, Admiral Wells, Holme. Lowest sea level pub in country. Drowning. Very classy. Quite hotel in style but permanent busy despite impossible location. Everyone wears pink or purple. Vintage Sooty says hello. Nelson's Revenge burns me. pic.twitter.com/axKGK3e3Sm

— Si BRAPA Everitt (@StymieSi) April 18, 2026

when he’d been brutally disinterested in hearing about Fenland drainage as he needed a wee.

It looks closer to the A1 than it actually is; in the lounge you can see a photo of the 751 Squadron planning that route from Sawtry Services to Holme for a pint of Ghost Ship.

The website talks of refurbishment, but on my first visit to the Admiral since that terrible month of December 2020 it looks delightfully unchanged.

I wish they’d changed those terrible thin Adnams glasses,

which did nothing for the condition of an otherwise decent Digfield Barnwell.

An odd soundtrack. Sabbath for the ramblers,

Beastie Boys for the pensioners, and “Sultans of Swing” for the folk who expect to hear Dire Straits in every pub in 2026.

But it’s the food you come for, and while I know some readers will balk at the prices,

the steak and ale pie is classic comfort food. Fresh veg, huge chunks of steak, gravy as thick and rich as you’d like your beer.

The Fens may be dull but they know how to do a pub lunch.

Goodness knows how the septuagenarian regulars finished it, and then asked for the pudding menu.