“I’m so pleased you’ve been helping with the gardening” said Mrs RM, mistaking weary compliance for enthusiasm. I retired so I could walk aimlessly and mysteriously end up at the pub, NOT spend 2 days sawing up and putting wood into a skip. Actually, TWO skips were filled, though I’ve rescued the match ball from… Continue reading A POST-GARDENING TIPPLE
Tag: Sheffield
HANDSWORTH – THE HOLY GRAIL OF SHEFFIELD SUBURBAN PUB-TICKING
In four days time, God willing, I will be in a pub. Perhaps even in esteemed company. Only a few more of this pointless exploration of Sheffield’s eastern suburbs with their loveably scruffy pubs and artisan litter. But that’s Handsworth, Brum, which IS ethnically diverse, or was last time I went there. The South Yorkshire… Continue reading HANDSWORTH – THE HOLY GRAIL OF SHEFFIELD SUBURBAN PUB-TICKING
GUESS THE PUB GOES LOCAL
Only 8 more days and we can confine “Guess the Pub” to the dustbin of blog history. At least until the tricky Carluke variant (only tackled by adding Buckfast to the vaccine) comes along, anyway. I’m staying local today, barely 20 minutes from home. Duncan will be able to identify the location from my drone… Continue reading GUESS THE PUB GOES LOCAL
BOLE HILL
Loads of positive things to tell you about Britain’s First City, but I’ll need a while to compose that post, so here’s an art shot to commemorate Nearly Bass Day or whatever it is. The beer is Raspberry Blonde from Little Critters, beautifully left behind my bins by the Gardeners Rest, but can you identify… Continue reading BOLE HILL
TO BOOK, OR NOT TO BOOK
Just back from a walk round a Hillsborough bursting to get back to life. The park next to Wednesday was clear of rubbish, folk keeping 60 feet apart, and a new craft beer bar is about to liven super-trad Middlewood Road, until recently the exclusive province of family butchers and discount stores. Hillsborough Fencing suggest… Continue reading TO BOOK, OR NOT TO BOOK
BYE BYE SHEFFIELD
Sometimes in life you just have to admit you need to move on. And so it is with us, as this month we’ll be leaving Sheffield (safe in Will’s hands, no doubt) for pastures new. Sadly we won’t even get to enjoy the inside of its magical pubs.. …or Stones Bitter on cask. BUT I… Continue reading BYE BYE SHEFFIELD
DORE BEFORE THE MOOR
We thought it was about time we visited Sheffield’s wealthiest suburb on the way to t’ moors. And sat eating gooey pork and stuffing rolls messily in front of folk with pashminas and “Financial Advisor” suits. Yes, it’s Dore, of Dore & Totley fame. Last stop on the Hope Valley line before the Peaks. Home… Continue reading DORE BEFORE THE MOOR
DARNALL DELIGHTS
More suburban strolling, then I must get back to Guess the Pub or Lorenzo will have withdrawal symptoms. I finally made it to Darnall this week, though I saved Handsworth and the High Hazels (sounds like a pub rock band from the mid-70s) for a rainy day. Just east of centre, south of Greenland, north… Continue reading DARNALL DELIGHTS
SHEFFIELD’S MONDRIAN OBSSESSION AND OTHER ODDITIES
Only two and a bit more weeks of this desperate nonsense and I can write about pubs again. Well, pub wine gardens, which I reckon will be just as full of human life on the 12th*. In the meantime, I’ve been tidying my photos and observing some of Sheffield’s little oddities that probably account for… Continue reading SHEFFIELD’S MONDRIAN OBSSESSION AND OTHER ODDITIES
A PICNIC AT DAMFLASK
We pressed on to the Bradfields, Sheffield’s equivalent of the Hamptons I guess. One of the largest parishes in Britain, stretching from the housing estates of Stannington to the weekend walker wonderlands of Strines, Bradfield dominates North-West Sheffield and the entrance to the Peak. High Bradfield has the huge Thwaites dining pub and the eponymous… Continue reading A PICNIC AT DAMFLASK
