February 2025. Hillingdon Village. I don’t get as hung up as some folk about historical counties, boundary lines and the truth, but I have been exercised by the existence, or otherwise, of an actual Hillingdon. Not the Borough, which includes Uxbridge and gives the football club its name, but Hillingdon Village, with pretty cottages, vegan… Continue reading THE LAST PUB IN HILLINGDON VILLAGE
THE RED LION ON HILLINGDON HILL
February 2025. Hillingdon Hill. Only a pub ticker, or a very weird human, could have been excited as I was heading to the Red Lion on Hillingdon Hill. My photos capture the drama of the 10 minute bus trip from Uxbridge. Never mind “And did those feet, in ancient times…“, did BRAPA drop that soft… Continue reading THE RED LION ON HILLINGDON HILL
PRIDE DRINKING WELL ON THE (DELAYED) BIG RETIRED MARTIN 60th BIRTHDAY TRIP TO UXBRIDGE.
February 2025. Uxbridge. You’ll remember the trauma of my significant birthday (22 December, but you knew that), as plans to mark the day with a fancy trip to Uxbridge were scuppered by my mum, bless her, staging a sit down protest. Last Wednesday I finally took that pilgrimage to the end of the Metropolitan line.… Continue reading PRIDE DRINKING WELL ON THE (DELAYED) BIG RETIRED MARTIN 60th BIRTHDAY TRIP TO UXBRIDGE.
CONCESSIONARY YORK
February 2025. York. Last musings from our mini break in York, which proved the UK tourist industry is in rude health in 2025, folk desperate to bask in our tropical temperatures and pay a tenner to see a load of reconstituted timber. 14th century Barley Hall was “rediscovered” in the 1980s by the York Architectural… Continue reading CONCESSIONARY YORK
VAN DE GRAAF GENERATOR IN YORK’S HOUSE OF THE TREMBLING MADNESS
February 2025. York. Monday morning in York. Almond croissant – tick. Big church – tick. Shop selling relics of famed War of the Roses protagonist Oliver Bonas, No, give that a miss. Mrs RM, having decided the queue in the Minster too long, needed a comfort break, and I reckoned the (original, Stonegate) House of… Continue reading VAN DE GRAAF GENERATOR IN YORK’S HOUSE OF THE TREMBLING MADNESS
YORK MINSTER – NCSS 3.5
February 2025. York. Another dreich morning greeted us last Monday, but at least we’d only spent £32.99 on our Travelodge. It’s £133.99 in April. Do the math. La Bottega provided the gooey almond croissant and Americano combo you want to start a morning of tourism, and despite it charging £20 each we couldn’t really pretend… Continue reading YORK MINSTER – NCSS 3.5
A SHAMBLES
February 2025. York. We left Brew York after sharing a third of that inevitable Imperial Stout, conscious that, as the word below “Trust me you can dance” says, too much beer is a very bad thing. So, no trip across the road to the Blue Bell, or to Ossett’s Hop, which as Mrs RM noted… Continue reading A SHAMBLES
JUICE FORSYTH
February 2025. York. Back from Poppleton, I wondered how much of her ChatGPT generated Insta-friendly York blog Mrs RM had managed to tick while I was ticking the Lord Nelson. Not a lot. “Research” her excuse. She’d found York astonishingly busy on a damp Sunday night the week before half-term, and sure enough the pubs… Continue reading JUICE FORSYTH
LET’S GO TO POPPLETON
February 2025. Poppleton. York. No new GBG entries in Ye Olde Cittie of York for what seems like aeons, so thank goodness for Poppleton, said no-one ever. “I’ve been to Paradise, but I’ve never been to Poppleton” sang Charlene on her 1982 Motown chart-topper. First stop west of York on the Harrogate line; 5 minutes… Continue reading LET’S GO TO POPPLETON
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