The Kings Of Lynn by Man in a Hat.
Kings Lynn Eve
It seems appropriate to start this blog the day before we set off for Kings Lynn.
Due to my CAMRA duties of dishing out the Opening Times magazine and Mild Magic packs to some of the 94 pubs participating this year, I’ve hardly been at home since the Needham Market trip.
We’re sat in Ye Olde Vic after beating Wealdstone, trying to deal with the trauma resulting from the game.
I feel partly responsible, as my pre-match routine went completely out of the window. I didn’t walk into Stockport for the game, I wasn’t wearing a hat, and I sat in the Cheadle End instead of with Stafford in the Main Stand.
The reasons were logical enough. I had to deliver CAMRA’s Mild Magic pack and Opening Times magazines to the Arden Arms (Bredbury) on my way to the game, so I didn’t want to carry my hat as well.
This also meant I had to stay for a beer and then get the bus from there, which I would have done had Kenny Boxshall not kindly pulled over at the bus stop and given me a lift on his way to fulfil his Edgeley Park responsibilities.
Stafford was at Edgeley Park pre-match as a guest at the internment of County stalwart Supporter Roy Davies’ ashes, so nothing was routine.
The weather was set fair, so the winter coat had been put away. For some reason, the summer coat seems a little snug, further evidence if any were needed as to who ate all the pies!
I actually found the Wealdstone match quite refreshing. I have to confess that I’ve really missed the usual stress of watching County, that genuine sense of jeopardy. In recent months, I have found myself wondering whether this is what it’s like to follow City, i.e. knowing your team are going to win even before a ball is kicked.
I don’t think I’ve spoken to anyone today who isn’t staying over in Kings Lynn. There are multiple reasons for this. 1/ It’s an awfully long way there and back in a day; 2/ this will our last ever game against Kings Lynn; 3/ Kings Lynn looks like a great place for a beer or two; and 4/ the date has been known since the start of the season and could not be changed due to the FA Trophy, giving plenty of opportunity to make all of the required arrangements with complete confidence.
Already on Plan B
Our Kings Lynn party consists of Stafford, #39 and myself. Accommodation at the White Hart, which serves real ale, was booked last year, selected from a short list of
3. As you know, I’m always on the lookout for opportunities to support any pub that serves real ale, in addition to drinking their beer of course.
The train was booked early January, a nice easy route, i.e. just one change (at Ely). However, when we tried to book passenger assistance a couple of days before setting off, we discovered that the train we we’re booked on no longer existed, so we’re already on Plan B and we haven’t even set off yet.
After much debate as to the options, and as it was too late to change our rooms at the pub, we decided to stick with travelling to the game on Sunday.
However, instead of a leisurely 5 hour journey starting at 12:55 with one change at Ely, we are now faced with a 5 and a half hour trip starting at 10:23 with 3 changes, at Doncaster, Peterborough and Ely.
Furthermore, the Peterborough Ely leg is a rail replacement bus. All good fun, potentially.
Another issue is that the train leaves Stockport 10 minutes before my first available bus on a Sunday, so I now have to taxi in to meet the others.
Anyway, everyone is in good spirits and looking forward to the trip, not least as there is a “Whimpey” in Kings Lynn, which everyone is very excited about. What the hell is a Whimpey?
Travelling on a Sunday in a Cattle Truck & Various Buses
I’m wearing my white “The Stockport Express & Times say Stand Up & Be County’d” t-shirt today. Why is the O in County’d a pound coin? Answers on a postcard please.
For some reason, Passenger Assistance put the 3 of us in some sort of quarantine-style carriage at Stockport. This is right next to First Class, but we’re not allowed in there of course.
The only seating are spring-loaded flip-up seats bolted to the sides of the carriage, facing inwards. There are hardly any windows. Very cramped and very uncomfortable.
The door to the carriage behind us is locked, so we’re stuck in here until Doncaster in 1 hour 13 minutes time.
From what we can tell through the air holes that have been drilled into the coach in order to enable us to breath, Sheffield looks very busy. This is confirmed when our cattle truck fills up with other Sunday travellers.
You may have seen 3rd class rail travel trucks in a transport museum, or perhaps in a book? Well, the only difference between those and our truck is that we have a roof.
We are met by Passenger Assistance at Doncaster. Our train to Peterborough will leave from the same platform (platform 8) in 40 minutes time, so she will return then.
#39 and Stafford spot a Starbucks, so once I’ve stashed them in there, and after double-checking they’re both sure they don’t want beer, I’m off to find a copy of the Non-League Paper (NLP) and grab a beer at the Draughtsman Alehouse on Platform 3B.
Jamaican Rum Stout brewed by North Riding. Outstanding.
County just about get a mention on the front page of the NLP “Hatters stage fab fightback”.
Even with Passenger Assistance, there is absolutely no chance of sitting together on the train to Peterborough. Why? Because it’s heading to London, so every man and his dog is on board.
Why everyone wants to go to London is beyond me. Baffling.
I manage to secure 3 seats in the same carriage, but not together, so we’re all spread out.
It’s a bit weird reading the NLP on the way to watching County, rather than on the way home from a game. If fact, I can’t remember that ever happening before in all my travels (I think this is my 44th blog).
County verses Wealdstone was given 5 stars in the NLP and Paddy was in Team of the Week, quite rightly, although he wasn’t Man-of-the-Match at EP yesterday.
This honour went to Myles Hippolyte. Bizarrely, the spell check offers up Hippolyta as a correction for Hippolyte, but I don’t think it’s likely that Myles is “a queen of the Amazons, variously said to have been killed by Hercules or to have been conquered and married by Theseus”, so I decide to leave the original spelling.
I’m sharing a table with 3 chaps from London who are discussing how much their houses are worth. It’s a different world down there by the sounds of it.
We’re met by Passenger Assistance in Peterborough, who escort us to the rail replacement bus (coach) via the toilets. Stafford and #39 are allowed to board first. I’m eventually let on when they realise we’re together. All in all a very good service.
An hour and 10 minute later we arrive in Ely, where Passenger Assistance are once again on hand. We’re informed that there are no trains as the overhead power lines are down, so it’s another bus, this time to Downham Market via Littleport.
Once again our Passenger Assistance dude ensures we are first to board, which turns out to be very handy, as by the time the bus is ready to leave it’s standing room only, and some are even left behind to wait for the next bus.
Stafford is dishing out some emergency chocolate, which seems to be smashed to smithereens, making it difficult to get any decent sized chunk in your mouth.
As we arrive at Downham Market, the train to Kings Lynn is waiting. Miraculously, we actually arrive at Kings Lynn on time (15:53).
Murder in the Warehouse?
It’s down to me to navigate us to the White Hart, as #39’s mobile device can’t be easily seen in the bright sunlight, and he’s having trouble “getting a signal”.
I revert to my trusted navigational aid, which does not need a signal or batteries, and can be read easily in natural light, namely a paper map.
We find the White Hart, and once we’ve decided who will be in which room, we’ll head out to eat at Wenn’s Chop & Ale House, which also happens to be in the Good Beer Guide and is just a few doors down, on a road called Saturday Market Place.
We agree rooms on the basis that there is only one remotely safe enough for Stafford, e.g. the room I end up in has steps down into the room and more steps up into the bathroom, without a rail in sight.
The room I have been assigned is big, but badly in need of redecorating. The TV is so small it’s simply not fit-for-purpose, so I’ll only be able to use it as a radio.
When unpacking, I spot some black tar down my treasured t-shirt, which I realise must be chocolate from the bus journey. I try to clean it off, but give up. Change my shirt? Not a chance. Two shirts in one day - never. I travel light.
In fact, one of the things I like about these 3 night trips, is that it is the longest trip you can undertake with just one pair of pants. Day 1 - wear correctly; day 2 - wear back-to-front; day 3 - wear correctly but inside-out; day 4 - wear back-to-front and inside-out.
In Wenn’s, I have the Juice Rocket from Three Blind Mice, very tasty indeed, particularly after such a long journey. We all eat very well. I then try the Courage Directors, which isn’t as good.
We then decide to try the beer back at the White Hart. I have the Norfolk Topper from Barsham, which is very nice.
Stafford and #39 are both calling it a night, so I’m left to my own devices. In fairness, it’s been a long day already, involving an overly complicated journey. The return trip will be a lot easier, with just one change at Ely, assuming the overhead lines have been repaired near Downham Market.
Anyway, I’m out exploring, starting with Marriott’s Warehouse on the South Quay, which should have 3 ales on, and is in the Good Beer Guide, despite being food-led. I try the only ale available, the Jigfoot from Moon Gazer, which is ok, but not up to Good Beer Guide standard in my opinion.
This is a very posh restaurant on the water-front in a 16th Century riverside converted warehouse. A great place for a nice meal by the look of it.
So I’m sat there in my chocolate stained t-shirt, the only one drinking beer in so far as I can see, making notes about the journey so far.
There is a very frosty atmosphere between the 2 members of staff on duty. Are they short-handed? Is this tension born of something sexual? Or, are they desperate for the venue to clear so that they can dispose of their murder victim, currently hidden away in the cellar?
Whatever is going on, both have noticed my note taking, which doesn’t seem to be helping the situation.
Do they think I’m a secret-shopper writing a killer review, a reclusive novelist writing his next blockbuster, or perhaps a Police detective working under cover, who has tumbled their murderous caper?
I suspect that the other thing that didn’t help to ease their collective anxiety was my failed attempt to find the toilet, which in hindsight, must have looked like I was casing the joint.
The truth is that I’m just a bloke who’s turned up 2 days too early for a football match, who is now making a hasty exit in case he ends up in the cellar with their other victim.
As I leave, I spot the beer mat I’ve left behind as my calling card being removed using tongs, presumably for appropriate disposal.
Troublesome Tractor Drivers
Haven’t seen any of the Blue Army yet, who’ve probably got more sense than to try and use public transport on a Sunday. I’m sure they’ll be everywhere tomorrow.
I work my way along the quay looking for the Bank House. Not in the Good Beer Guide, but could have 3 ales available. There are lots of working boats along the River Great Ouse. Should be quite a sight in the daylight.
Again, just a single ale to try, the Razorback from Ringwood, a familiar ale, which I score as good. The Bank House is essentially a hotel, and I’m in the bar which is also open to non-residents. Another very posh venue, but one far more relaxing for a drink than Marriott’s Warehouse.
I locate a nice little cranny to sit in, and find myself listening in to 2 retired couples passionately discussing tractor drivers. Yep, tractor drivers!
The main crux of the conversation is in respect of the conduct of tractor drivers when using the public highway. More specifically, the differences between the present day (bad) and the way things were in the good old days (good).
Basically, the tractor drivers of today are completely ignorant as to the proper etiquette, and are very rude to boot, whereas the tractor drivers of old knew the unwritten rules and were also very friendly.
But then, it got really heated, as the conversation moved on to the differences between Norfolk (here) and Suffolk (there). Those Suffolk tractor drivers are all wrong n’s, have no idea how to behave on the public highway, and to make things worse, become very rude when offered advice on how to improve their driving.
I’m off to find the Globe, the local Wetherspoons. It’s really cold. Wish I’d brought my winter coat now. Looks like my natural personal lagging will come in very handy this trip.
The Globe Hotel is not only absolutely huge, it’s one of the quietest Wetherspoons I’ve ever been in. I don’t know how large the Blue Army will be, but I’m sure this venue could comfortably accommodate all of them.
Oakham’s Citra, one of my favourite ales, is not at its best, but still good.
The Globe also does accommodation, and I imagine some County Supporters will almost certainly be staying here. The only reason we choose the White Hart was its proximity to the train station.
I decide to call it a night, and on my way back to the White Hart, I spot somewhere called “Wimpy”. Has the prophecy come to pass?
From Hut to Palace
Monday morning, the shower is too hot. First time for everything I suppose, but it means I can’t stand under it, and have to resort to standing to the side and carefully splashing water on myself.
The bed was also terrible. Can’t complain though, I could be trapped in a basement in Mariupol. Today, I’m wearing my National League North Champions polo-shirt.
It’s 10am. Stafford and #39 have already been out for breakfast. They’ve decided to move out of the White Hart. In fact, they’ve already booked into Wenn’s Chop & Ale House, where we ate last night! There is a room available for me as well if I want it.
Aside from the broken windows and lack of water in #39’s room, the main issue appears to be the access when the pub itself isn’t open.
I experienced this last night and I thought it was very entertaining. All you have to do is go through the main gate (operated by a rope - a bit like in Double-Deckers - “get on board”) into a narrow cobbled delivery yard.
Then there is a challenging obstacle course consisting of empty beer barrels, gas cylinders, wheelie bins, brooms, ladders, etc. and the fire escape. In addition, the course itself is by no means in a straight line.
Stafford also advises that the landlord has been piping music through into the yard, specifically the theme tune to Mission Impossible, although I suspect that this is all in his imagination.
Best to stick together, so I also opt to move into Wenn’s.
So, it’s back to the White Hart to pick up our stuff. One last trip through the yard. Thankfully, by the time we get back downstairs, a member of staff has turned up, so we can exit through the front door. This also affords me the opportunity to let them know that we are moving out and why.
Checking into Wenn’s, involves the usual routine of ensuring that Stafford has the room that is safest for him, which is easy, as 2 of the 3 rooms are on the second floor.
Looks like we have effectively moved out of a hut and into a palace. After familiarising Stafford with the layout of his room, which is called Kings, I head upstairs to see if my room, called Gardiner is as good.
I open the door into a short corridor. To the left is the East Wing, which has my en-suite bedroom with king-size bed, large television, walk-in shower, bath and square toilet.
To the right is the West Wing, which has my lounge, giant television and breakfast bar, with a fully equipped kitchen including oven, fridge, dishwasher, oven and everything else you need for entertaining guests.
Remember me telling you I’ve always been lucky?
Looking through the bowed window in the far corner of the West Wing, one of the 4 windows in my suite (the same number as my house), I’m afforded views of Kings Lynn Minster.
I invite Stafford up to my new apartment for a look around whilst I lay out my pyjamas and unpack my 2 remaining clean shirts. I’m going to be rattling around in here like a pea in a hot air balloon.
We retire to the bar and find #39 enjoying a beer. Everyone is happy and relaxed again. Access to the rooms is easy, even when the pub is shut, Stafford feels safe, and #39 has windows and water, which is also hot.
Blue Army Sighted
Off to the Crown & Mitre for lunch. Not in the Good Beer Guide, but should be up to 5 ales. A wrong turn takes us to the jetty where the ferry across the Ouse embarks from. Some nice views of the Ouse, but no point in getting the ferry, as there is absolutely nothing the other side, i.e. no pubs.
When we find the Crown & Mitre it’s shut, we end up in the Globe, where I try the JHB from Oakham, which is pretty average, albeit drinkable.
#39 needs to do some shopping, so we leave him to it and head to a pub near the ground, called Live and Let Live, just to check out the lay of the land for tomorrow you understand.
On the way, we pass an eatery called the Poco Lounge, which Stafford insists on being photographed in front of.
Live and Let Live is in the Good Beer Guide and always has a mild available. Navigating to the pub during the school run proves to be well worth the effort. Our first ale is the Oscar Wilde Mild from Mighty Oak, which is very good indeed.
We then try the Black Treacle Porter from Humpty Dumpty, which is even better. Excellent.
About 4.30pm, through the pub window we have our first sighting of the Blue Army, wandering past. It’s Ged and Bev again. I shout down the street that unless they stop following us, I’m going to call the Police.
In hindsight this was a bad idea, as some locals come to their windows to see what’s going on. Well, it’s not easy to explain. You had to be there.
Ged and Bev pop their heads in, but aren’t staying, so we head off for our next Good Beer Guide pub, the Stuart House, where we plan to eat. The Stuart House was on the short list for places to stay, as it’s very close to The Walks Stadium, and is also in the Good Beer Guide.
Very posh again. On the long gravel drive is parked an immaculate Morris Minor Traveller, the same car that I took my driving test in (3 times).
As we’re eating, we encounter another County Supporter, who is staying here. Tom is also a fellow CAMRA volunteer and is off to explore. He won’t have to go far to find the best pub in Kings Lynn, Live and Let Live.
The food is really good, as is the beer, Oakham’s JHB again, only this time, just as it should be. We both indulge in an Irish Coffee, purely to aid digestion. Unbelievably, the first Irish Coffees the young lady has ever made, and very nice too.
From here, it’s a short walk to the Lord Napier, for a very nice pint of Timothy Taylor’s Landlord. The pub has a really good vibe, and one of the regulars kindly takes us back to Live and Let Live using a shortcut through some carpark or other.
Surely the Lord Napier is more deserving of a place in the Good Beer Guide than Marriott’s Warehouse?
Back at Live and Let Live we chat to a couple of chaps who are working in the area, and we suggest that if they’re looking for something to do tomorrow night, they could do worse than going to watch County.
We arrange a taxi back to Wenn’s and discover that the driver is a Stopfordian who left Stockport back in the 80s, and now follows Lynn. He’s taking the night off tomorrow in order to go to the game.
After a resident’s nightcap, I eventually have to face going upstairs to the nightmare of my accommodation.
Which television to watch, which chair to sit in, what temperature to set each of the 7 different radiators and having to remember which door leads to the bedroom.
Exploring Lynn
The walk in shower is so large that I can stand in it without getting wet. And yes, the shower is running!
The towel is so big, that it actually fits all the way around me. Me!
As I sit sipping my green tea, I decide I haven’t got time to conduct an audit of all the cushions in my palace, so I head out. Smart casual today as it’s hospitality tonight.
The first task is to buy an FM radio for Stafford, as he’s forgotten his, so he won’t be able to listen to live commentary at the game this evening.
This lunchtime, we are going to try a few pubs (surely not) that we haven’t managed to frequent as yet.
One is the Maids Head, on a road called Tuesday Market Place. How many market places does Kings Lynn need? I tried to call in here Sunday evening, but it was closed, as it is again, Tuesday lunchtime. Is this the Tuesday Market Place or not?
We decide to try the Crown & Mitre again. Looks promising as the lights are on outside. We later learn that these are illuminated when the pub is open, to save drinkers wandering right down to the end of Ferry Street, only to find that the pub is closed. You can’t beat local knowledge.
In we go to check out the 6 ales and “good value food”.
Following a busy weekend, just one ale remains, the Norwegian Blue from Parkway, which is quite good. Stafford is flatly refused a taster, so opts for Guinness.
There will be lots more ale on tomorrow, but that’s no good to us here today. Food isn’t available as yet.
The landlord is a little eccentric to say the least. When I ask if he would like cash or card, he says he “doesn’t give a ****”. Don’t think he wants to be here personally.
The pub is actually a very interesting place to enjoy a few pints, even in the absence of the entertaining landlord, as it’s absolutely crammed with all sorts of sea-faring memorabilia.
As we leave, the Landlord decides to help Stafford. Remorse for his earlier behaviour? I reckon the Mrs has had a word.
We try the Maids Head again. Still shut, so we pop back to the hotel to pick up my hat ahead of the game tonight, before going to Wimpy for lunch. No sign of the Blue Army so far today.
I manage to eat my “Wimpy” without getting any of it down my smart casual shirt or my smart casual trousers. Stafford enjoys his first “Wimpy” for 25 years! Can’t see what all the fuss is about myself, I mean this is hardly a chicken balti pie.
Kings Lynn is mobility scooter central. Very flat and highly pedestrianised, so understandable. This also makes for a good environment for those with sight loss.
Back to the Maids Head. Shut.
The other pub that has been shut for our entire visit is the Nip & Growler Ale House, but we already knew this, as it closes at 6pm on a Sunday and doesn’t open Mondays or Tuesdays. A real shame, as it boasts 10 cask ales, and barring Kings Lynn getting to the first round of the FA Cup, I doubt we’ll ever have cause to return.
Odours & Accidents
We have a bit of time to kill before heading to the game (via Live and Let Live) so we pop into Wetherspoons, aka the Globe, in search of the Blue Army.
We’re in luck. Some familiar faces at last.
Sat in the gents minding my own “business”, I suddenly hear a female voice, apologising to a few others who are now making a hasty exit.
She says that it was necessary for her to come in as someone had been “too smelly”.
I doubt that the contribution I’m currently making is going to help any. Sure enough, as I leave, she shoots back in! Still got it!
This is the smallest number of County Supporters that I’ve ever seen in a Wetherspoons at the same time. I’m trying the Mahseer IPA from Green Jack. Remember Lowestoft?
Apparently, the Mahseer is a predatory fish from the carp family, and it can grow to be very big.
I try to arrange a taxi via the bar staff, and then with the lady looking after hotel reception, but there is simply nothing available. Apparently this is due to the school run and everything being so spread out in this part of the world, i.e. everyone lives out in the sticks.
Even #39 can’t get anything using his mobile device, so we’ll have to get the bus.
Fletch is in, moaning about his planned train to Eastleigh being totally messed up by East Midlands Railways (I think). Nationalise I say, nationalise! The trains are already subsidised to the hilt by the Government so why keep denying it?
We already know where the bus station is, and we’re soon on the Excel C bus to Peterborough. We’re warned that we must get off at South Gate, as if we don’t, we’ll end up on the A47, next stop Wisbech, some 15 miles down the road.
However, we needn’t worry, as there is a driver change at South Gate, so what can possibly go wrong?
As it’s rush hour by now, the traffic is horrific, but we eventually arrive at our destination. We had planned to try the London Porterhouse, but we don’t have time, so we head straight to Live and Let Live.
In reality it’s still early, but we can’t hang about on account of doing Matchday hospitality. Even at this hour, the Blue Army is gathering, including Martin, Steve & Paul, who have blagged a nice table in the back room.
The pub soon starts to fill up, including one County Supporter, on a rare day off from working for the NHS, who had been administering first aid at the scene of a serious accident nearby where a car had driven into a house. I kid you not:- Man in hospital after car collides with house in King's Lynn (lynnnews.co.uk)
No wonder the traffic was so bad.
Also in the pub were Tim and Stacey, 38 ½ weeks pregnant (i.e. already due) who is attending the game to try and take her mind off it!
At ten to six, the coach party arrives. Time to vacate our seats and head to The Walks Stadium for our pre-match entitlements. I can promise you that there was no way of getting any photos before we left.
Familiar Faces at the Game
The food is good, tomato soup, lasagne and honeycomb cheesecake, but there is no draft beer, so we have to drink wine. Inevitably, we encounter the Club’s representatives, and Steve Bellis insists on having his photo taken wearing the hat. Must be jealous of Dave Challinor in Needham Market?`
The Lynn fans we’re sat with aren’t really Lynn fans, but I don’t fully comprehend why. We’re bigger Lynn fans than them, albeit fans of Lynn, the provider of beer in Ye Olde Vic.
Lynn are playing in Ukrainian blue & yellow. Does this mean we’re Russia? I hope not. BBC Radio Norfolk have full live commentary, so Stafford is able to enjoy the game, and reports that the commentators are very complimentary towards County.
After the game, a taxi is kindly arranged for us, and all in all we thoroughly enjoyed the hospitality at The Walks Stadium.
Back at Wenn’s, there’s time for one last beer, the Wherry from Woodforde, the best beer I’ve had here all trip, or perhaps it’s just the (now familiar) taste of victory on the road?
Leisurely Trip
No hot water this morning, and we were told last night that there wouldn’t be anyone around until 9am, so I decide to go out for breakfast first.
The Lynn manager is on BBC Radio Norfolk this morning complaining about the referee, and probably with good cause from what I recall.
Bubble and squeak for breakfast. This is only a bit of offal short of the promised land! Stafford and #39 also roll in, but I’m off back to Wenn’s so see if the hot water can be fixed.
The guy in charge is very helpful. Turns out that my living quarters has its own boiler, which he fixes, leaving me just enough time to have a shower before meeting up to walk to the station.
We bump into Ged & Bev again, who are returning to Stockport via London, i.e. train to Kings Cross, the train home from Euston. More than one way to skin a cat. There are also a few more County Supporters dotted about.
Stafford informs us that County are now 10 points clear, and that the aggregate score of the 4 games against Kings Lynn is 16-0.
As you can imagine, it’s quite difficult to get 3 people through a ticket barrier, particularly when one of you can’t see the ticket popping back out to activate the gate. Typically, we’re let through manually by whoever is manning the barriers, but not this morning.
The guy on the platform is just not having it. We’re told to report to Passenger Assistance. However, all is well, as Steve the Passenger Assistance chap lets us through the gates, and we get on board.
We nearly fail to get off the train at Ely, and have to resort to holding the doors open, whilst everyone disembarks. Passenger Assistance find us and apologise for being late.
After buying some food for the journey, we’re safely on the train, direct to Stockport. This is how train travel should be. Just settle in for the next 3 & a half hours. No changes, no rail replacement buses, no 3rd class cattle trucks.
It’s so relaxing, that between us, we actually manage to finish the cryptic crossword in the Metro, for the first time ever.
Soon we’re back in Stockport, on time (15:25).
Hold on though, Stafford wants to go boozing around Stockport! #39 legs it, he’s had enough.
On the way to the Angel, we take the opportunity to familiarise Stafford with the roadworks on Station Road between the station and McDonalds.
At the Angel Inn we have the Moonraker Mild from Empire, which is very nice. Good to see the pub limbering up for CAMRA’s Mild Magic trail which starts Friday 1st April and runs through to the middle of May. I’m looking forward to that:- SSM CAMRA - Campaigning
We’re really looking for somewhere to eat. Nothing on at the Cocked Hat, so we try Bakers Vaults. No food, but they do have the excellent Plum Porter Grand Reserve from Titanic. Whilst it’s far too early to be drinking this ale, you don’t see it that often, so what can you do?
First to Set Off, Last to Get Home
As we walk past Petersgate Tap on our way to eat at Se7en, we’re spotted by some unsavoury characters, who hurtle out of the pub and insist we join them for a drink.
Like us, Matty, Sliding and various others are still trying to get home from Kings Lynn.
After eating, we head back to Petersgate Tap, but they’ve all gone. What lightweights! Looks like we’ll not only be the first to set off for Kings Lynn, but also the last ones to get home.
Anyway, may as well make the most of it. Achocolypse from Thirst Class. Taxi for Stafford, as he’s off to Eastleigh the day after tomorrow (Friday).
I decided not to do Eastleigh before the season even started. Admittedly, it did look like a good opportunity for a double header, but a trip involving games on a Tuesday and a Saturday, is a totally different animal to a trip involving games on a Saturday and a Tuesday, if that make’s sense.
Tuesday / Saturday would probably be a 6 night trip, whereas with a Saturday / Tuesday trip you can get away with 4 nights.
Whilst sat on the bus, I’ve been jotting down a few notes, so I haven’t noticed that the bus has taken a diversion down the side streets of Denton. Then, the driver has to get out and start knocking on doors as he can’t get past a parked car.
A lady appears, who had clearly been dragged out of bed, and proceeds to move her car in her dressing gown and slippers.
The driver informs me that he can’t get up to Haughton Green as a massive sinkhole has appeared outside the Carters Arms, hence the diversion, so I end up walking the final mile home.
Thankfully, this will be my final stay-over trip of the season, unless we end up in the play-offs of course. Noooooooo.
Man in a Hat
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