retiredmartin

September 2026. Saxilby. Lincolnshire.

Only back three (3) days from an overnight stay one rail stop out of Lincoln, and I’m off on t’train, one stop shy of Lincoln again for a lone GBG newbie.

Saxilby is the GBG ticker’s “low hanging fruit” (ugh, ugh) for me (less so if you’re starting in Paisley). An hourly 70 minute direct train from Sheffield (£12.10 with old codger railcard), pubs open all week, and the potential to break the journey home in honeypots like Retford and, er, Gainsborough.

For the ticker with an interest in culture, Saxilby may present more of a problem, but there’s art,

and a heritage trail, and you’ll know how much #PubMen love their heritage.

ChatGPT is in raptures at the prospect of my “Surprising Saxilby” blog post.

Emerging from the station, the trail doesn’t start well.

I stand on the pavement to take photo of that mural and station approach, clearly annoying a lady who just stares at me (I’m used to that, in honesty). I move out of her way.

A big sigh, and then “I’m TRYING to get into my car idiot“

I need a pint. My new entry opens at 2, but the Anglers, whose name commemorates “as many as 1,000 anglers descending on the town by train in the late 19th century“, is a decent revisit.

It’s a friendly community local; blokes discussing Angela Rayner (“Don’t believe ANY of the b******s“), meat raffles, darts on TV,

“Billy Jean” on the playlist, ancient beer mats with rarities like Wells Josephine Gimbley’s Best on the ceiling,

and national and local cask for £4.25.

Three pint pots on the CAMRA scorecard (which suggests a decent number of beer scores), perhaps a couple on mine, the Theakston is a gorgeously presented pint where the entertainment comes from the political debate at the bar.

“2030 ? I won’t be around in 2030 !“.

I bet most of you focus your ire on the AI produced meat raffle poster, mind.