“New York, London (Gatwick), Powys, Lowick. Everybody talk about…my next tick” With apologies to M, that was my July, starting at JFK Airport and ending on Offa’s Dyke, with stops on Hadrian’s Wall and the Plymouth Barbican on the way. The usual month of contrasts in the posts, from dystopian Brooklyn, to post-dystopian donner… Continue reading JULY ’19 STOCKTAKE + AUGUST PREVIEW

Yes, the Huawei watermark has gone. What can it all mean ? Back to Thursday night, which was busier than a New Year’s Eve in Maidenhead (I speak from painful experience). And rather more attractive. What do you do on a Thursday night after a session on the Bass, anyway ? Make a poor choice… Continue reading THURSDAY NIGHT IS CURRY NIGHT

At last, you say, a pub I’ve heard of. Actually, the Dolphin is Plymouth, in the same way that Coopers is Burton and the Ale Wagon is Leicester, in a world where towns are defined by pubs. It had been 22 years since I’d set foot in the Dolphin. 22 ! That’s odd, as I… Continue reading TOP 100 PUBS – THE DOLPHIN HOTEL, PLYMOUTH

Almost at the Dolphin now, but feel free to guess how the quality of the Bass has been improved by adding another seven beers on the bar. First up, I spent half an hour finding somewhere to park my car for the next 3 days without paying a penny.  I think it was Okehampton. Parking… Continue reading A DISTRACTION FROM THE DOLPHIN

Bit of a theme running through this blog, as no doubt academics would discover in 100 years if the Internet hadn’t accidentally been destroyed in the Great Fire of 2033. The more handpumps the worse the beer, attractive pubs aren’t the best, published opening times are largely indicative, and bar blocking remains a national sport… Continue reading THE 4.15 BAR BLOCKING STAKES LIVE FROM PLYMPTON

Here I go, reeling you in with cuddly fish and promises of Bass again. This next one is a real curate’s egg, in this case the curate of Plympton, my base for the exploration of the Miners Arms in Hemerdon. Take a look at the expanse of nothingness below Drakelands Mine (Wolf Minerals); that’s where… Continue reading BASS FISHING AT DRAKELANDS MINE

Sometimes I don’t think you lot appreciate the effort involved in compiling a blog post after a night of “research”.  Goodness knows how BRAPA does it AND models weird clothes for a living. This one comes to you after a night in Machynlleth with the estimable Mr Mudge, and two pints of NBSS 3.5 Draught… Continue reading PERSONAL TRAINERS

Ooh, look, the Huawei thingy is back.  Just as sinisterly, I’ve had 26 views from China so far today.  You’re all under surveillance now for rubbishing Tsingtao on Beer Twitter. In a rush now.  In blog time, I’m about a day away from the Dolphin in Plymouth (Bass alert), in real time I’m a day… Continue reading GONE FOR AN ASHBURTON

The title comes courtesy of BRAPA, of course.  I only paid for P&P. No-one has called me Mart since my sister ran out of space two letters short on my 8th birthday card. The Poacher came after breakfast, a grand affair in Exeter’s other classy Spoons outside St David’s. Good job I hadn’t popped in… Continue reading THE IDES OF MART