I guess you’re wondering what sort of extreme partying I’ve got up to on my birthday (22/12, make a note in your 2023 diary). Oddly, not much since those ticks in Derbyshire. Writing blog posts, Chinese takeaway from Sang Lung (NCTSS 2.5), watched “Saving Mr Banks” on the telly (great), cheered City’s smashing of the… Continue reading IN CASTLEFORD, IN THE DOG HOUSE
FERNWOOD’S KINDER COOKIE CUP – THE DISCOVERY OF 2022
You may remember (you won’t) me mentioning the pubbing opportunities in Balderton, just south of Newark. and you may recall I mentioned a flippin’ micropub in the new village just across the A1 that we could have pre-emptively ticked that day if I’d bothered consulting What Pub. Well, Fernwood’s Brews Brothers was closed the first… Continue reading FERNWOOD’S KINDER COOKIE CUP – THE DISCOVERY OF 2022
RETIRED MARTIN DAY 2022 – NO BASS, BUT THE BASS MAN PROVES AMPLE COMPENSATION
Thank you for your good wishes for Retired Martin Day (22/12), the most magical day of the year. My Mum called me to say Happy Birthday this morning; I didn’t ask if the actual birth was that magical at the time. Anyway, to put you all out of your misery guessing where I went, here’s… Continue reading RETIRED MARTIN DAY 2022 – NO BASS, BUT THE BASS MAN PROVES AMPLE COMPENSATION
THE YPRES CASTLE AT NIGHT
Happy RetiredMartin Day (22/12) to all who celebrate. And even those of you who don’t. I’ll be off out (out) shortly to a magical place I’ve never been to before. It took me AGES to find one. Back in November Mrs RM and I were having a last night in Rye before heading home (home).… Continue reading THE YPRES CASTLE AT NIGHT
DYMCHURCH DELIVERS THE DOOM BAR (AND THE ALPACA SOCKS)
18th November 2022. Another GBG23 tick, a Kentish single calmly collected like Chris Tavaré compiling a patient 18* while all around him go mad with the marker pen/bat. Back to Dymchurch, which had let me down the week before (not their fault). But before Hidden Treasure, we sneaked a visit to Alpaca Annies, where Mrs… Continue reading DYMCHURCH DELIVERS THE DOOM BAR (AND THE ALPACA SOCKS)
MERMAID STREET
17th November 2022. Back on the Sussex coast, Mrs RM finally took a break from IT to spend an afternoon had a spare afternoon in Rye. It really is a gem of a place, but how good are the pubs that aren’t called “Ypres Castle” or “Waterworks“, I wondered. But not for long. Mrs RM… Continue reading MERMAID STREET
THE ONLY (PREEMPTIVE) TICKING BOY IN NEW CROSS
One more post from London, then I can write about Rye, Castleford and Tromso. An unlikely trio to end November. 16th November 2022. Underground, Overground, Wombling free, I need to be at the Shirker’s Rest by 3, so an hour to kill admiring fades signage, and the wonderful Courage sign on the Amersham Arms. Lest… Continue reading THE ONLY (PREEMPTIVE) TICKING BOY IN NEW CROSS
ON TOWARDS SHADWELL. WHEREVER THAT IS.
16th November 2022. My pre-interview pub crawl continued, from Holborn to Moorgate and the Shadwell. Four new ticks in 90 minutes on foot. #StillGotIt London looked splendid, though there seemed to be a lot less suits on the street, unless the City boys are very casual these days. For probably the first time since 1992,… Continue reading ON TOWARDS SHADWELL. WHEREVER THAT IS.
“In the City there’s a thousand pubs but I only need two”
16th November 2022. A second City pub in quick succession, after silently cursing (“Oh, tasters !”) I couldn’t do the Olde Mitre. Honestly, there was no need for London to erect this statue of me with the Good Beer Guide Completion trophy, something Messi will never hold. I thought I’d have visited the Inn of… Continue reading “In the City there’s a thousand pubs but I only need two”
“When your Spoons charges nearly a fiver a pint, drown your empty selves, for you will have lost the last of England”.
“Talk about your father or father figure in your life” is today’s Word Press prompt for the blogger with writer’s block. But I’ll leave that post on Duncan till I’ve caught up with the blog. Just a reminder; I don’t choose what to write about. This is basically my diary. That said, I’m going to… Continue reading “When your Spoons charges nearly a fiver a pint, drown your empty selves, for you will have lost the last of England”.
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