July 2026. Sheffield.
I drove down with the boys to see Dad a week ago, and back the same day. Dad didn’t recognise us, but was enjoying the company and the fishcakes, which is what matters.
Now Sunnyside is sold I’ve no need to stay in Waterbeach, and the boys have no fondness for Cambridge, though I can’t imagine not having a pint in the Sun and a crispy beef from Chung Hwa again.
Matt dashed back to Stockport,
where tonight he’s drinking Bass in the Crown. Young people drinking Boring Brown Bitter, heh !
I nipped into Sheffield to catch some more free live music and a rather more modern beer selection at the Head of Steam.
The Head of Steams always impresses me, the cask is generally GBG quality; I just wish they’d serve their own Cameron’s Strongarm with a flake.
Instead, I nurse the keg Atom Stout through KC Summer’s lovely acoustic set,
and when she says at the end “”if you’ve come to a live music event and talk all through it you can go home” I cheer.
Loads of free gigs, over 300 across the town centre, and I have to go in the one without live music.
But the Fargate always looks so inviting, there’s a soundtrack of Bowie and Hot Chocolate, and a second Atom in quick (too quick) succession is almost as good as cask gets in Sheffield. “Cool, rich, chewy. EXCELLENT” I write.
AND I took Mrs RM some of that Nduja pizza home. Not much, mind.
retiredmartin 