Between moving Matt’s tat into storage and then out to Ancoats I popped back on Wednesday to take my Dad for an X-Ray at Addenbrookes and my Aygo to Newmarket Road for its M.O.T. One of these days I’ll get those things mixed up, with disastrous consequences. With the Aygo at Cambridge Vehicle Services all… Continue reading “Who’s your favourite revolutionary ?”
THE QUEUE FOR A HOLLAND’S PIE
Just to prove I’m a cultured creature, I now head deep into West Lancashire for a Holland’s steak pie and a pint of Bank Top Mild. Eccleston blotted it’s copy book by claiming as its own a Belgian biker who won a race round Box Hill at the 2012 Olympics. Tidy little place, nice northern… Continue reading THE QUEUE FOR A HOLLAND’S PIE
BUSTLING BURSCOUGH
This has been a tiring week of travel, and it’s not often I say that. Two trips to Manchester, a dozen journeys taking Matt and his precious possessions between Salford, a storage depot on Ashton Old Road, and his new house in Ancoats. He’s looking worse for wear too. But he’s moved now, so no… Continue reading BUSTLING BURSCOUGH
THE TEMPLE OF CONVENIENCE
“You haven’t really done Manchester till you’ve done the Temple of Convenience” said no-one ever. I’d never. But these Young People know how to have a good time, and insisted we finish our Freshers’ crawl in a converted public toilet. Frankly, if the Temple can re-open during Covid, anywhere can. Eight of us in, unless… Continue reading THE TEMPLE OF CONVENIENCE
FRESHERS
I hadn’t realised I was in the middle of Freshers Week. For a start, Freshers Week had apparently been “cancelled” for some woke transgression or other. But then, who believes a word that Sky News (or the BBC) says. Best get all your news off BRAPA, I reckon. Matt and his flatmates had just had… Continue reading FRESHERS
YES ! MANCHESTER
You left me at Salford Quays, downing a short pint of IPA in 60 seconds so I could catch the tram. In a dramatic demonstration of the evils of drink, I bought my ticket but momentarily failed to apply my mask before leaping through the doors, raising the R rate by 0.00000271 in the process.… Continue reading YES ! MANCHESTER
“SINK THAT PINT LAD”
If ever there was A Year To Be Generous To Your Children (they pick your care home), then I guess 2020 is it. Not that moving Matt and his flatmates’ stuff from Salford Quays to a giant metal box (not the Public Image Ltd. one) on Ashton Old Road in six goes was FUN. Here’s… Continue reading “SINK THAT PINT LAD”
HOOK, LINE AND CITRA
The Pub Bloggers Code states “Thou Shalt Not Visit A Fellow Blogger’s Home Town Without Buying Him A Doom Bar“. That rule was subsequently and contentiously amended to exclude Tonbridge. Arguably Heathrow Terminal 5 is the home of the Southworth clan, and if they’d really wanted to be in the UK we’d have met them… Continue reading HOOK, LINE AND CITRA
NERVY TIMES IN BOTLEY
All good things come to an end in a sleepy village which Russ will find something to snigger at, and so it was that my Hampshire GBG20 escapades came to an end in Botley. Wherever that is. Described as the “most delightful village in the UK” by one William Cobbett, who was named after a… Continue reading NERVY TIMES IN BOTLEY
NEW MILTON, NEW HOPE
After the beauty of Lulworth Cove and Wareham Quay it was inevitable the next stage of the Dorset Dawdle would be a drag. I challenge anyone to to find joy in the featureless suburbs of Bournemouth and Poole. The trip wasn’t helped by a diversion to new Poole GBG entry the Barking Cat, which I’d… Continue reading NEW MILTON, NEW HOPE
