WORKSOP – LIQUORICE, LACINGS & FRENCH HORN

Makes Worksop sound exotic, doesn’t it ?  And if you live in South Anston, it probably is. Sadly, the gorgeous tiling often adorns closed or keg pubs, making Worksop the Rotherham or Woolwich orPoole of the Midlands, My route to Sheffield to see my lad often flies past the edge of Worksop, though I reckon… Continue reading WORKSOP – LIQUORICE, LACINGS & FRENCH HORN

AN ASSET OF COMMUNITY VALUE

24th February 2020 “Nottingham’s Pub of the Year“declares the Old Green Dragon, along with its predilection for old Guinness adverts. Glory for tiny Oxton, tucked away in the posh bit between Southwell and Nottingham, safely away from mining villages, pumping stations and CenterParcs. Dave will be thrilled to learn that the other, recent GBG, pub… Continue reading AN ASSET OF COMMUNITY VALUE

HUCKNALL – BEER & SKITTLES

I’m driving BRAPA round the hard-to-reach pubs of the Cambridgeshire Fens on Saturday; “Whittlesey, little to see” is my suggested blog title. I’ll probably leave Si to his own devices this time, rather than distracting him from pub hubbub by pointing out how difficult West Oxon ticking is going to be. I can always count… Continue reading HUCKNALL – BEER & SKITTLES

HARDY & HANDSOME – KIMBERLEY KICKS ON

I’m afraid the title is the best thing about this post from a frustrating afternoon in industrial Notts. Alan Winfield would have appreciated it, albeit horrified by the unfettered growth in micros. After Manchester I spent 3 days throwing things away while Mrs RM did company accounts and tax returns.  She was ready for an… Continue reading HARDY & HANDSOME – KIMBERLEY KICKS ON

“THEY CAN’T SAY HALF IN WORKSOP”

A quick stop in Worksop on the way to Sheffield to ensure James has found the toaster. Lunch is a shared pizza and pint of Punk IPA for £6.49 in the Spoons. “I’m a cheap date” says Mrs RM, cradling her bargain pint as I dash off for a half in my new tick. Worksop… Continue reading “THEY CAN’T SAY HALF IN WORKSOP”

RUSHING KIDS, ROYAL CHILDREN

  On Wednesday morning I got a text message from youngest son Matt. “Soz Dad, short notice.  Can I go 2 We Came As Romans gig tonite plz.” “OK. Where ? “Nottingham. London date sold out” “OK” “Radddd” You can guess where he gets it from. So at 6.30pm we were back here, having made… Continue reading RUSHING KIDS, ROYAL CHILDREN