January 2026. Liverpool. A third new Liverpool GBG tick in barely an hour brought me to the scruffier bit of the modern city, not far from Toxteth and Cains and all that. Love Lane is notably quieter than the Ropewalks pubs, but seems to have the smartest menu and they’ve pulled out all the stops… Continue reading HIGSONIANS
BEYOND THE ROPEWALKS
January 2026. Liverpool. My son Matthew has just had a curated exploration of Stockport’s superior public houses. Well, Runaway, the Crown and the Magnet, for a start. Sending me photos of him drinking Bass under the viaduct creates a feeling of both immense pride and jealousy. Despite living in the heart of Manchester, Matt and… Continue reading BEYOND THE ROPEWALKS
ST. PETERS TAVERN, LIVERPOOL. NBSS 3.5 FOR THE BEER, NPPSS 5 FOR THE PORK PIE
January 2025. Liverpool. Ten minutes after leaving the Red Cat I was standing next to Sir Ken. Nothing brings happiness (geddit ?) like being in a great pub city with a £24.99 Travelodge booked and a Chinese takeaway recommendation from ChatGPT. A tough choice; revisit the great museums and art galleries behind St Georges Hall,… Continue reading ST. PETERS TAVERN, LIVERPOOL. NBSS 3.5 FOR THE BEER, NPPSS 5 FOR THE PORK PIE
MAGICAL MERSEYSIDE MURK IN MOSSLEY HILL
January 2026. Liverpool. I thought I’d have a night in Liverpool before Peter the Pub Curmudgeon’s funeral 2 stops away in Widnes on Friday. Normally one hour thirty-six to get to the edge of the Pool, say Google Maps. But this was far from a normal rail journey, as I first had to push the… Continue reading MAGICAL MERSEYSIDE MURK IN MOSSLEY HILL
NO LARKIN ABOUT, IT’S THE KENTISH HORSE, MARKBEECH
January 2026. Markbeech. Kent. A last new GBG entry ticked in Kent, not too far from either Kentish Paul or the in-laws. Sadly, a flying visit to the Kentish Horse at Markbeech, only a mile or so from the legendary Queen’s Arms at Cowden Pound. It’s also barely half an hour’s walk from Cowden station,… Continue reading NO LARKIN ABOUT, IT’S THE KENTISH HORSE, MARKBEECH
A MORE SOBER RETURN TO THE PIPEMAKERS
January 2025. Rye. The trains in Rye are fairly reliable; one an hour to Ashford or Eastbourne. Buses are less reliable (like I’m surprised); the number 313 back to our caravan timed to depart just before the train arrives, or not arrive at all. So my options are a) wait 40 minutes in the cold,… Continue reading A MORE SOBER RETURN TO THE PIPEMAKERS
IS THERE MORE TO THREE OAKS THAN A PUB ?
January 2026. Three Oaks. East Sussex. Mrs RM has been manically “improving” her blog, waiting for the next parental crisis. She’s a perfectionist; I guess that why she chose me to marry. Monday saw me in need of fresh air and a pub after a day of relentless drizzle in Rye Harbour, so I jogged… Continue reading IS THERE MORE TO THREE OAKS THAN A PUB ?
AN AMATEUR ERROR IN EAST HOATHLY
January 2026. East Hoathly. East Sussex. We’ve finally shut down our caravan in Rye Harbour (Home 3) afer an extended winter stay. The water pipes had frozen over Christmas, but thankfully hadn’t burst. Sheffield gets the snow; Rye gets the bitter chill. Mrs RM was anxious that I completed those tricky South-Eastern GBG chapters before… Continue reading AN AMATEUR ERROR IN EAST HOATHLY
PALACE MELTDOWN IN TULSE HILL
January 2026. Tulse Hill. London. Leaving Streatham Spoons I became aware of something big happening in the FA Cup. Macclesfield (no longer Robbie Savage’s Macc) of the 6th division had just taken a 2-nil lead against the Cup holders, cheating Crystal Palace. And I was definitely heading into Palace territory as I walked the backstreets… Continue reading PALACE MELTDOWN IN TULSE HILL
ANOTHER HOBGOBLIN IN STREATHAM
January 2026. Streatham. London Dad got the full ambulance treatment on Friday night, but made such a miraculous recovery overnight that I felt confident about trekking back to Rye the next morning. 90 year olds have incredible bouncebackability. Time for a couple of London pubs ? Half an hour and £8 from St Pancras brings… Continue reading ANOTHER HOBGOBLIN IN STREATHAM
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