A rare outing for Luke 4:23 on the blog as I return to the UK for those pubs you all love. High tables, foliage, irrelevant tat on the walls. Yes, I’m sure you’ve identified Brunning & Price disease already. A miserable drizzled walk out from confusing New Street Station, but at least I remembered my… Continue reading PHYSICIAN, HEAL THYSELF – EDGBASTON EXCESS
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
Good Bass, bad Bass. That’s the problem in the age of the cask lottery. The next day Bass popped up again in Bourne, of all places. What is this witchcraft, is Bass suddenly fashionable ?* Bourne isn’t fashionable. Even with the giants of Stamford and Spalding either side. A town that’s basically a busy bit… Continue reading THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM : CUT THE BEER RANGE
A bit of a rush of posts at the moment as I want to keep up to date, otherwise people get bewildered. And I can’t be held responsible. Next stop, a bit of genuine minor English tourism. The Dukeries don’t feature much on this blog, just one incredibly dull post from my first month as… Continue reading CRESWELL CRAGS
Three days off pruning hedges and feeding teenagers, then off to Brum on World Cup Semi-Final Day. I won’t tell you how many England won by, just in case you still haven’t watched it on I-Player. The journey took 2 hrs 20, compared to the 90 minute stroll to St Andrews before the A14 improvements… Continue reading DIGBETH ’18 – IT BEGINS
Two down in Dumfries, four to go. But first a little tourism. With the Burns centre and the Bruce pub, it helps if you like Roberts. Sadly no Cure museum, though the Coach & Horses had plenty of their stuff on the jukebox. I thought Dumfries would be smarter; it looked unchanged since the ’70s… Continue reading “WAIT HERE TO BE SEATED”
Petersfield endured, it was onto a bumper Hampshire derby showcasing the best and worst of the South coast. Starting in Pompey, which isn’t short of pubs. An admission. I was a teenage Pompey fan during the glory years (Div 4); an attachment based seemingly only on a visit to a Chichester convent and Bognor Regis… Continue reading POMPEY ! PRESLEY ! PUMPS ! PISH !