retiredmartin

September 2026. Shireoaks. Nottinghamshire.

10 minutes through the old colliery site to the GBG brewery tap,

ten minutes back to the station, still feeling that ache at the back of my leg but keeping up with Google maps generous timings now. One of the most attractive approaches to a Beer Guide pub anywhere, I reckon.

As always, an hour in an unfamiliar place is perfect to explore, get lost, have a pint, search Google for a Chinese takeaway tip, and make sure, absolutely sure, you’re the right side of the barriers when the train arrives.

There’s not a lot to see at an industrial estate brewery tap, especially if you visit alone rather than with mates. So I find myself with a whopping 22 minutes spare, with no obvious outlet for crispy beef and Singapore rice to count down the (ticking) clock.

So I walk, south, over Chesterfield Canal,

past the neat houses and giant sunflowers,

to lovely St Lukes.

And then I notice on the CAMRA site a mysterious pub on the very edge of the village.

Whether Hewett or Hewitt, who knows, there’s absolutely nothing on social media about it, which makes a dash to visit essential.

There’s a sign at the track leading down to a lake that says CLOSED, but that’s never stopped us, has it ?

The opening times are bewildering,

But there’s definitely life in that building at the end.

A single room, one table of locals who turn to stare at the stranger and then resume their business.

It reminds me of pubs like the Limeburners in Nether Kellet, an idiosyncratic place run for a small group of locals (often farmers), where opening hours are “not set in stone“. The landlady is charming, and I apologise it’s going to be a quick half of the local Welbeck Abbey Red Feather.

Because, as my eagle eyed readers will have noted, it’s now 18:55, my train departs at 19:04, and it’s a nine (9) minute walk hobble back to the station.

Reader, I made it with a minute to spare, though it set my recovery back by a month.