retiredmartin

September 2026. South Anston. South Yorkshire.

Obviously I’m not actually aiming to complete the Beer Guide again; not sure I could afford all those helicopter flights and ferries in the final year anymore, never mind the stress.

But I’m still visiting as many new Guide pubs as I can, and a bit more conscientous about applying the pink marker than of late, which is keeping WH Smiths TG Jones in business at £3 a pop (what ? They’ve gone bust already ?).

Mrs RM needed a trip out, even women need a pint sometimes, and I couldn’t be absolutely certain I’d been to the Leeds Arms in South Anston, my last South Yorkshire tick. Tucked between Sheffield, Rotherham and Worksop, with old collieries, Ryder Cup golf courses and butterfly farms competing for attention.

It’s a 20 minute hobble along Dog Kennel Hill from Kiveton Park, whose own craft bar has been cruelly denied a Guide place on account of not selling real ale. Different rules for some.

I’d told Mrs RM the main issue concerning CAMRA at the moment was devising schemes to deny Simon his completion of the Beer Guide and campaigning against the use of Artificial Intelligence in producing fliers for music and quiz nights, because who worries about cask quality these days ?

The Leeds Arms seems to be embracing the opportunities of AI,

and good luck to them, at least they get the apostrophe’s right. Anything that makes running a pub cheaper, and advertising your attractions easier must be good, no ?

A solid looking boozer, no frills, huge stone walls,

“Everybody Wants to Rule the World“, solid range of bitters. Very Rotherham village.

I’d warned Mrs RM not to break the embargo and congratulate the landlord on his GBG place, and of course women are good at keeping secrets.

A worthy place, too, with both Stancil and Landlord a cool and chewy 3.5, which as you’ll know is a forbidden score these days.

South Anston had another GBG entry for what felt like decades; perhaps the Loyal Trooper is going to rotate with the Leeds Arms.

You’ll be delighted to know we’re recovering from sports injuries so well that even the slope up to St James was manageable.

I’m sure we’ll have fresh ailments to tell you about soon enough.