Yes, get yourself down/up to Patrington and enjoy Licks tonight. As it were. Less than an hour on the bus from sophisticated Hull, but feeling a bit like the end of the world. If you’ve been to Littleport or Chatteris you’ll know that feeling. I called the amiable Amy up before I travelled to check… Continue reading PATRINGTON LICKED
Tag: Adnams
NEW YEAR, SAME LINCOLNSHIRE
By my reckoning the earliest you could have had a new GBG tick in 2019 was at the Sandpiper, Paisley/Glasgow Airport, mere miles from the Pubmeister’s moth collection. If I could have been there for the 5am opening, I would have been. Perhaps I will, someday. Instead, It Begins In Lincolnshire, which sounds like… Continue reading NEW YEAR, SAME LINCOLNSHIRE
“OLD”
I feel a bit guilty about the lack of a report on St Andrews Brehouse, my new Norwich tick last week. Sadly my phone camera had only just recharged enough to bring you one shot from that “Fine City”. And it ain’t from the GBG pub. St Andrews is part of the burgeoning City… Continue reading “OLD”
UP BRANDON CREEK WITHOUT A (BEER) PADDLE
A welcome return for Mrs RM in today’s post. Yes they sent her back first class from the Rifle Drum in Northampton. Also a return for pies, and our beloved campervan, which is about to get its big trip out. You’ll know who or what you’ve missed most. It must be more than a decade… Continue reading UP BRANDON CREEK WITHOUT A (BEER) PADDLE
ADNAMS MURK STORMS THE CAMBRIDGE CASK CASTLE
Mrs RM has started an assignment flitting between Northampton Council (yes, THAT one) and a Cambridge office. If only there was even a 3rd World standard road between the two it’d be bearable. Still, she gets to pop in the Rifle Drum when she stays over, so life’s not all bad. I picked her up… Continue reading ADNAMS MURK STORMS THE CAMBRIDGE CASK CASTLE
TOWER OF LONDON
It’s a well-known fact that Americans only like 3 types of music; Pure Prairie League, Dylan, and early ’80s post-punk. Mark Crilley will get the title reference. We headed for Tower Bridge aimlessly, debating whether Robert P. McCulloch would have been better buying the Royal Oak to rebuild under the (ahem) Arizona Sky than the… Continue reading TOWER OF LONDON
OUR FORTUNES SWELL IN FORTUNESWELL
I can’t say I’m surprised how basic the Portland pubs are; neighbouring Weymouth is also a haven for lovers of unreconstructed boozers. Those in Portland seem to rotate their Guide places, so we get a second GBG newbie, and folk saying “Why didn’t you go in the Royal/Britannia/Add Your Choice ?”. Everyone must be… Continue reading OUR FORTUNES SWELL IN FORTUNESWELL
STANDS OPEN THE BLUE BALL, AT TEN TO THREE ?
Sorry, Rupert, No classic poetry is safe when I need a blog title. Having reported from the area in Lincolnshire where national treasure Jeffrey Archer was incarcerated in 2001, here’s his current, rather more attractive abode. That’s Rupert Brooke in the courtyard (see here). All proper Cambridgians make the walk out from Newnham to Grantchester… Continue reading STANDS OPEN THE BLUE BALL, AT TEN TO THREE ?
NOT CRABBY IN CROMER
Two short posts from Cromer for you. It must be Christmas. Cromer really is at the end of the world. In fact, if you look at the OS extract you’ll see in the top right hand corner where the sea ends (darker blue) and you fall off. A lot of Cambridge people, all over… Continue reading NOT CRABBY IN CROMER
LITTLE WALSINGHAM – AN ALTERNATIVE PILGRAMAGE
It took 20 years for a pub to get me to make a pilgrimage to Little Walsingham. That was the Black Lion last November. If only I’d known then the other village pub would be joining it in the Good Book a year later I’m sure I would have persuaded Mrs RM into the Bull… Continue reading LITTLE WALSINGHAM – AN ALTERNATIVE PILGRAMAGE
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