The in-laws safely headed back to their hotel , Mrs RM forced me to make a final, inadvisable pub stop on that fateful Saturday (the 5th, I’m that far behind). Having already re-visited three of the classic Sheffield GBG pubs, it was time for a fourth. Yes, the pub that gave its name to a… Continue reading AN EARLY BATH
My return to pubbing has been a joy, but there’s slim pickings in terms of new GBG ticks within a 3 hour radius. The closest new Guide pub to me (York’s Gillygate) is actually yards from BRAPA Towers. And that was closed as well. On a whim, I stopped in Boroughbridge. A stately little place… Continue reading THREE HORSE SHOES
If I had unlimited time I’d snip that Huawei* watermark off these few photos.** If you don’t look closely you might thing it’s my copyright or something and be scared off nicking them, which you’re quite welcome to do (I don’t own the pubs or the people). As it is you’re stuck with our Chinese… Continue reading SUNDERLAND PART III – TAKING THE ROUGH WITH THE (JOHN SMITHS) SMOOTH
Yes ! It’s a Heritage pub ! Just in case any of you are starting to feel sorry for me, fear not. I was loving this tour of dodgy cask pubs. The next one up is beautifully located an hour up narrow roads from Llandeilo Station. The Cennen Arms looks like a rural Welsh… Continue reading TRAPP-ED
Fifteen minutes (jay)walking later, Paul and I were at Bennets Bar, our second Edinburgh classic of the day. I’ll be honest. I know the capital has dozens of ornate bars; they’re beautifully detailed in the CAMRA Scottish Heritage Pub Guide I got Paul for a bargain £3 at the AGM. In general I care… Continue reading BENNETS BAR – NOT BAD, IS IT ?
Nice obscure Canadian post-rock reference there for Russ and any other Canucks reading this. We pick up the story as the train from Perth arrives at a Dundee station bursting with pre-AGM anticipation. I headed straight to Caird Hall to pick up my CAMRA Members’ Weekend goody bag, my first since the Isle of Man… Continue reading GOD SPEEDWELL YOU ! GREEN EMPEROR
The Crown came into view just as a light drizzle descended on Lime Street Station, overlooked but not overshadowed by the ongoing building works behind it. What a wonderful pub to step into on a drab Sunday morning. Inside, Stafford’s Paul Mudge seemed mildly surprised to see me nearly on time. He hadn’t even finished… Continue reading PAUL WEARS THE CROWN