Emperor Hattious Conquers Colchester (well, nearly) by Man In a Hat

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we all know, Colchester was the place where the Roman invasion of Britain started nearly two thousand years ago, so in order to celebrate my sixty-halfth birthday, I decided to undertake my own invasion, under my new persona of Emperor Hattious.

 

Sixty-Halfth Birthday?

 

Last year, it became apparent that I wouldn’t be able to get away to celebrate my sixtieth birthday “properly”. I thought that would be that, but some just wouldn’t let it lie, so I decided to kill two birds with one stone and subject them all to an extended weekend of my typical life, i.e. of Stockport County, travel and real ale.

 

I therefore invited everyone to spend the weekend with me in Colchester, the oldest (and youngest) city in Britain, in order to watch County, drink real ale, and even explore the history and heritage of the area.

 

Over a period of months, XVI Legionaries were recruited to serve their Emperor (Hattious), and this is their brave tale.

 

Tale? Saga is more like it, so get yourself a drink and settle back for an epic six thousand word plus read. The problem was that the Emperor Hattious’s advisers decided that it would take IV nights to conquer Colchester.

 

The Legion

 

My Legion were a mixed bunch including close family, old friends and new, and even someone who I’d never met before. A typical Roman Legion would have MMMMMM (six thousand) men and no women, so by my reckoning we’re about MMMMMDCCCLXXXIV Legionnaires short, not to mention, IV of them were women, which you’d never find in a Legion.

 

Oh, by the way, aside from time and money, I’m switching to Roman Numerals now, so you may need this:- https://www.romannumerals.org/converter

 

A scouting party of VIII were to arrive in Colchester Thursday evening and were instructed to gather at the Other Monkey Brewery for a welcome meal. Stafford and I would not return to Stockport until Monday, so this was a IV night trip for some.

 

A Costly Hair-Raising Journey?

 

The journey to Colchester for Emperor Hattious appeared to be daunting, as it involved navigating through the London Underground, which for me may as well be Mordor, which didn’t even exist in Roman times.

 

However, as I was travelling with Stafford, and we’d booked Passenger Assistance, even I should be able to manage it.

 

It takes the whole journey, but we actually manage to complete the cryptic crossword in the Metro, bar one clue.

 

The 11:04 from Stockport was XIII minutes late into Euston, but even so, we had XXXIX minutes before our train to Colchester left Liverpool Street, a mere V stops on the Underground.

 

Although we’re met at Euston and transported on the assistance buggy to the assistance lounge, there is no assistance available between here and Euston Square, so we have to make our own way there.

 

I find a member of staff to help when we get there, but despite being met again at Liverpool Street, we miss our train to Colchester. No matter, as we weren’t able to book seats anyway.

 

On the tube, there was a notice on each door stating “Items trapped in the doors cause delays.”

 

 

These notices were introduced following an incident involving a young County Supporter who got his hairdryer (yes, his hairdryer) trapped in the doors during a trip to watch County play some London team or other decades ago.

 

The doors had to be reopened so that said hairdryer could be dislodged, during which time an announcement boomed around the station “THIS TRAIN IS NOT YOUR PERSONAL TAXI SERVICE……….”

 

We think this may have been Barnet in MMVIII when HISC (the Hatters Independent Supporters Club - remember them?) organised a Meet-the-Manager event upstairs in a pub in London for southern County exiles, the evening prior to the game. But there was another occasion this happened, so it could have been even earlier.

 

Anyway, we establish from the helpful Passenger Assistance people at Liverpool Street that there are trains to Colchester at 3pm, 3.30pm and 4pm, so we set off to try out the Wetherspoons that is situated inside the station itself, as recommended by one of my fellow CAMRA Members. The invasion will have to wait.

 

However, Passenger Assistance won’t come and fetch us from the pub, we have to make our way back to them. Outrageous! Do they not know who I am? Emperor Hattious!

 

The pub is called the Hamilton Hall, which was once a ballroom, but isn’t now, as all of the snooker tables have been removed.

 

Although the beer selection is very disappointing, the Devon Dew from a brewery called Summerskills is reasonably good. What isn’t good though is the price. II pints, even after using a CAMRA voucher, comes to £9.44. I ask if there has been some confusion and I’ve somehow ordered IV pints, but no. And, I even have to supply my own beermats!

 

We also need to eat something, and again the price seems to be almost double what you’d expect to pay in Calverts Court. Welcome to London.

 

We make our way back to the Assistance Point in good time for the 3.30pm to Norwich, and it’s a good job, as it’s quite a trek to the platform and then to the front coach.

 

We’re met in Colchester, escorted to a taxi, and once Stafford has been familiarised with his room, we’re soon in the bar at the George Hotel enjoying a pint with my other uncle, Uncle Malcolm, ahead of meeting the other V Legionaries at the brewery. The beer was very good, Sweeney Todd, fittingly from Colchester Brewing.

 

Stuart and Andy (originally from Sutton Coldfield) have arrived, but no Lea, so the Legion is already about VI% depleted before we even get started.

 

The Legion Start to Gather Monkeys

 

The Other Monkey Brewery Taproom is literally just across the street from the George, where I try the Empty Streets at Dawn, a rather excellent dark mild, brewed right here.

 

Fintan is struggling to get from London to Colchester after having flown in from Dublin, and Uncle Sam is stuck somewhere on the A12, so we decide to delay eating until both arrive. More dark mild for me.

 

I have mentioned before how lucky I am, and tonight is no exception. We’ve stumbled on curry night at the brewery. £10 for a pint and a curry, which was adorned with lots of freshly chopped chillies (red and green), and absolutely superb. Not for the faint-hearted, but all of my party like a good curry, so no problem there.

 

Afterwards, we retire to the Three Wise Monkeys next door, a pub run by the brewery which is in the Good Beer Guide.

 

The Metropolis brewed by Colchester Brewing is really good.

 

Thankfully, the George don’t have a residents` bar, so it’s time to call it a night.

 

What a great opening night. The invasion is up and running.

 

Early Out to Play

 

Breakfast is plentiful, so Stafford and the Emperor Hattious take full opportunity to set ourselves up for the day of the invasion proper. Fruit, full English, toast, coffee, cold meats, cheese, pastries, and in Stafford’s case, porridge.

 

The plan today is to immerse ourselves in the heritage of historic Colchester, starting with a tour of the castle at noon.

 

However, I’d forgotten that some of my Legionnaires still have day-jobs, so the opportunity to be boozing on a Friday morning can’t be missed. I can already feel my carefully laid invasion plans starting to unravel.

 

11:05 and we’re in the Playhouse (Wetherspoons), having braved blizzard conditions to get there. Thankfully the snow shows no signs of settling.

 

Due to the poor selection of beers, I have to drink the Ten Fifty brewed by Grainstore, which weighs in at 5% ABV, and is rather good. Given what we have planned today, even I have to concede that this is not sensible, but I am an Emperor and therefore immoral, sorry, I mean immortal. Stafford opts for coffee, which is clearly a better choice.

 

What a venue this is. Opened in the XX’s as the Playhouse Theatre, then became a cinema in the XXX’s, before turning into a bingo hall in the LXXX’s and then closing for good. After considerable renovation, Wetherspoons reopened the venue as a pub in MCMXCIV.

 

The balcony still has the original seating, where all sorts of cardboard, puppet and mannequin celebrities can be seen. The ground floor, including the stage has seating for drinkers and diners, and is pretty busy for 11am on a Friday. 

 

 

 

The walls are covered with loads of memorabilia from the days when this was a theatre and also from historical Colchester itself, so what better place to start our historical exploration (invasion) of the City.

 

My party are reporting the weather conditions from their respective homelands. Heavy snow in Dublin; schools closed in Sutton Coldfield.

 

Uncle Sam presents Uncle Malcolm with a collapsible walking stick, his first ever walking stick despite being in his mid-LXXX’s. Malc doesn’t look convinced that he needs it.

 

For some reason, people are slow to gather, i.e. can’t follow orders, so we end up heading to the Castle a lot later than planned, affording Emperor Hattious the opportunity to try more ale, including Darwin’s Origin from Salopian, which is good. £3.44 for two pints with CAMRA vouchers - this is more like it.

 

Everything Prior to My Invasion

 

We get to the Castle in time for the 1pm tour.

 

 

The tour is excellent, covering the entire history, starting in the Roman Vaults, the foundations of the Temple of my predecessor, Claudius, up the Great Stairs, and onto the Castle roof.

 

Safe to say that Uncle Malcolm and Stafford struggle a little down in the Vaults, as some of the doorways are nothing more than tunnels really, but it’s well worth the effort. 

 

 

 

After the tour, things really start to unravel, I’ve never come across such an undisciplined Legion. In fairness, we have successfully captured the Castle, so I’m probably being a bit harsh here.

 

Uncle Sam is meeting some friends who live locally, the pub we we’re supposed to gather in ahead of our walking tour at 4pm (Queens Street Brewhouse) doesn’t open until 4pm, and Uncle Malcolm has bailed out completely, as have some other Legionnaires.

 

Uncle Sam is in the Foresters Arms, which is nearby, so we join him in there ahead of the walking tour and arrange to meet the rest of the Legion in the Queens Street Brewhouse afterwards, which should be open by then.

 

The Foresters wasn’t part of the invasion plan, so it’s very nice to find a good pint of St. Austell’s Proper Job served by gravity (straight from the cask). And there is homemade soup, which will do nicely, as we won’t be eating again until quite late I suspect.

 

Unfortunately, the sign doesn’t say soup, it says soap. This doesn’t go down well with Emperor Hattious. Why would a pub be selling homemade soap. Ridiculous! The Emperor goes hungry.

 

As we sit there enjoying the beer, there are sporadic heavy snow showers, which I secretly hope continue during the walking tour.

 

Russ, my CAMRA Legionnaire from Cornwall has arrived, so the walking tour sets off with VI hardy souls, IV having dropped out (just one flake of snow, call yourselves Legionnaires……). Russ is a heritage volunteer for CAMRA, so this is very much “his bag”.

 

Our Walking Tour Guide, Steve (a local Briton), is a real history enthusiast, as you’d expect, and happily fields all manner of questions from our small band of tourists (Stafford, Russ, Uncle Sam, Stuart, Andy and myself) during the next II hours as we tour around the City and the roman walls.

 

What I find interesting, is that when the toughest leader of all of the tribes in tribal Britain, who was this Colchester chap (can’t remember his name) died, the Romans decided that this was the perfect opportunity to invade and conquer Britain.

 

The Emperor at the time was Claudius, and Colchester (called Camulodunum in those days) was their logical number one target. We’re talking AD XL something here, and this was the only occasion on which Claudius journeyed anywhere from Rome. Hence Colchester was the first city in Britain.

 

Claudius personally led the final assault on Camulodunum and a Temple was built for him here in Colchester and dedicated to him upon his death in the AD L’s. 

 

 

                                                                                    

The thing is, it’s very flat in this part of the world, so there are not enough building materials, particularly if you’re trying to build city walls and a temple for an emperor, so they had to ship in everything they needed from the coast.

 

Pretty much everything that followed, for example the Norman Castle we captured earlier, was simply constructed from all of the original materials of the temple, and also built directly onto the temple foundations.

 

More Legionnaires and Collaborator Recruited

 

By the time we finish the walking tour, we realise that we need to eat before heading to the Queens Street Brewhouse. Those who ducked out of the tour are already there.

 

The quickest option was to eat at the Three Wise Monkeys, which Uncle Sam, Stafford and I do, the two-meat combo for me. Others make their own arrangements. I neglect to note down what ale I have (don’t tell CAMRA).

 

We eventually make it to the Queens Street Brewhouse, but there is no real ale, and hasn’t been for some time. However, there is a good selection of draft keg beer, mostly Belgian stuff, which as you know tends to be on the strong side.

 

It’s a shame there’s no real ale, as the place is clearly run by genuine beer enthusiasts, who both do their utmost to find me (often described as the ultimate real ale snob) something to drink. I end up on the draft Kriek, a cherry Lambic fruit beer, primarily as it’s a sensible 3.5% ABV. This is actually very nice, particularly as I’ve only just eaten, i.e. this is like my pudding.

 

Stafford ends up on a Belgian 7% ABV beer, and Uncle Sam something even stronger.

 

Everyone is here, including the remaining arrivals expected today; Andy N, Bev and Jo, all friends from Sutton Coldfield, where I was born and raised.

 

I’ve instructed that Legionnaires establish various camps around the City, in order to stay visible, keep locals in line, and to remind them that they are to be conquered and enslaved over the next couple of days.

 

Many are yet to eat, so we all go our separate ways. Stafford calls it a night, and Russ, his local mate Jeff (a Colchester United Season Ticket holder), Uncle Sam and myself head for the only pub in Colchester with any heritage credentials (in keeping with the theme of the day), a place called the Odd One Out. 

 

 

The Odd One Out turns out to be about twice as far away as we expected, but the walk does us all good, well apart from Uncle Sam anyway.

 

Now this is a proper pub, a superb boozer. No TV, no music, no machines. Just a cosy place where people come to drink good beer in front of an open fire.

 

It’s Friday night, but somehow we manage to get seats near the fire on a table where we chat with one of the regulars.

 

I’m on a dark beer called Ciara from a brewery called Hadham. Very good indeed, so good in fact, that I don’t try any of the other V ales available, all of which are also very good according to my drinking companions.

 

Our new friend advises that on Tuesday, King Charles turned up to award Colchester city status. However, as we already know, Charlie was nearly MM years late, so he was apparently sent away with a flea in his ear. In any event, Emperor Hattious is now taking over, and Emperors outrank Kings.

 

Russ’s friend Jeff is a Colchester Season Ticket holder and advises that Colchester haven’t scored for V games. County haven’t scored for IV, so this has nil-nil written all over it.

 

During the course of the evening, Jeff learns of our plans for tomorrow, i.e. 11am start, then III Good Beer Guide pubs and a chariot to the ground, and decides he’d like to join us. Jeff is now a Roman collaborator, the first of many- I hope.

 

Russ fills us in on the heritage status of “Oddie” as it is known locally, namely a MCMXXX’s counter, bevelled mirror panels, a brick fireplace and bench seating. We’ve also learned off another local Briton that the name is down to the Odd One Out being the only pub in Colchester to serve real ale in pre-CAMRA days.

 

Jeff lives outside of the City of Colchester, so we all share a chariot and the rest of us get dropped off at our various camps.

 

When I return to my room, I find that it has been restored to the way it was when I arrived yesterday (seems like a week has already gone by to me). This means that I have to remove the cushions and long piece of cloth off the end of my bed (what are these for?) and return my towels into the bathroom (why would I want them folded up and put in the bedroom?).

 

The Legion take St. Johns

 

Regarding breakfast, I’d like to refer honourable readers to the answer I gave earlier.

 

I’m wearing my grey sweatshirt displaying County’s current crest, as I expect it to be very cold today, together with my lucky Peaky Blinder hat of course.

 

I have a couple of errands to run before setting off for the Playhouse to get the day’s proceedings underway, specifically to obtain a local scroll in order to read about the big match build up; and to arrange chariots to and from the ground for the XII who are attending the game today.

 

The hotel has recommended a chariot firm who have a camp nearby, so I manage to arrange II VI seaters to pick us up from the Fat Cat at 2.15pm and then collect us from the stadium at 5pm.

 

All Legionnaires are aware that we’re starting at the Playhouse and that we’ll then move on at XII to an area of the City called St. Johns, where there is a nice cluster of III Good Beer Guide pubs.

 

The beer selection in the Playhouse today is much better than yesterday. I’m on the Black Pheasant from the Pheasantry Brewery, which is a little disappointing, but the Bishops farewell from Oakham is much better.

 

The Colchester Gazette Scroll helps us all get in the right mood for the inevitable nil-nil draw. With odds of VII to I, some of my Legionnaires are “having some of that”.

 

As Legionnaires arrive, I issue each with a ticket for the game, together with a souvenir to mark the occasion.

 

I manage to get some pictures in the Playhouse, before being told off for using flash photography. 

 

 

 

 

We have the III Good Beer Guide pubs to squeeze in before heading to the game, so shortly after Noon, we’re on the move.

 

A short walk away is the New Inn. I choose the Devout Stout brewed by Bishop Nick, from the diverse selection of IV ales, and very good it is too.

 

Then, an even shorter walk away, is the Ale House, with VIII ales to choose from. I’m on the dark stuff again, specifically the Old Man and the Sea, brewed by Mighty Oak. Very good again.

 

Marcus shows up, bizarrely the only one in the whole Legion with a Roman name.

 

Over the road, which has a XX mile an hour speed limit, is the Fat Cat. Unfortunately, none of the motorists seem to know about the speed limit, so getting across safely certainly gets the old bottle twitching, unless you can’t see of course, in which case you’re none the wiser.

 

The final II Legionnaires arrive, my Nephew Ben and Brother Nigel. The Legion is complete at last, and we can set about conquering Colchester.

 

I was the only one who knew Nig was coming, so his arrival is akin to that of the prodigal son.

 

Another great selection of ales, all served by gravity, from which I select the Martyr from Bishop Nick. III great pubs, all within a stone’s throw of each other, all with a great selection of beers kept to a high standard.

 

Good job I’m staying another II nights. I’ll be back.

 

Apologies for the lack of photos from these III venues, Emperor Hattious was just too busy organising his Legion.

 

Off to the Foremost Battle

 

Both chariots arrive as requested and ferry us to the JobServe Community Stadium. An Audio Description Device has been ordered for Stafford, which we collect from reception.

 

Over half of Clubs in League Two offer an audio description service, but rather disappointingly, County are not one of them. Stafford therefore gets a lot more enjoyment “watching” County away, than at Edgeley Park.

 

Chicken Balti Pies are on the menu, but they’ve run out, as have the Steak pies, so we reluctantly opt for the Chicken and Mushroom Vegan pie. Shocking! Should have gone for the sausage rolls.

 

We can’t find the rest of the Legion and the Audio Description Headphones have no power. In fairness to the stewards, they do their best to rectify the situation, but to no avail, so Stafford effectively misses the first half.

 

We know there is commentary on BBC Radio Essex, and one of the stewards knows the frequency, but the signal is scratchy, so we head to the other side of the stand for the second half to see if there is a better signal there, where we find the rest of the Legion.

 

Somehow, Uncle Sam has managed to get hold of a chicken balti pie, which looks and smells fantastic, but I’m still full of vegan pie, and my arteries are rapidly unclogging, so I’m getting a bit edgy.

 

Stafford manages to pick up BBC Radio Essex for the second half. It’s very useful having someone sat next to you with match commentary, not least to keep up with other relevant scores should County be winning - which they are!

 

The hat is back. I never doubted the Peaky Blinder hat. It’s record now reads (post Mansfield); won VIII; drawn III; lost I, promotion form if ever I saw it.

 

Uncle Sam manages to get some pictures of my Legion conquering Colchester.

 

 

 

Our chariots back into Colchester aren’t quite where we expect them to be, so we’re a little delayed in getting on the road. I’m also confused as there only seem to be XI of us.

 

Marcus came with us, and Dave is taking his place, but there should still be XII. Eventually we work out that Jeff, the Colchester local and Roman collaborator, was never coming back with us, so all is well.

 

It has to be said that the chariot service was excellent.

 

Celebrating Conquering Colchester

 

At 6pm at the George, we have my LX halfth birthday meal, which was excellent, although the real ale ran out, which led to me having to drink wine. The final II Legionaries had arrived (Tina and Annie).

 

Afterwards we all decamp to the Victoria Inn to celebrate conquering Colchester. This tavern is not only in the Good Beer Guide but has also been recommended to me by local Britons multiple times.

 

The Blackwood, brewed by Grain, is so good, that I stick with that for the rest of the evening (I really should start on something lighter). Reports from my Legion on the other V ales available are all favourable.

 

Amongst my Legion, we have a Millwall Supporter, a Derby Supporter, and my Brother and Nephew are both West Brom Supporters, despite my best efforts to indoctrinate my Nephew into County from birth.

Therefore, we’re starting to make plans to attend all III play-off finals at Wembley at the end of May. Stockport County verses whoever in the League II final, Derby County verses whoever in the League I Final, and Millwall verses West Brom in the Championship Final. Unless Stockport County mess it all up by getting automatic promotion of course.

 

I had planned to visit the Magnet this evening, another Good Beer Guide pub that is a couple of minutes’ walk away, but we’re all nicely settled here in the Victoria Inn, so that will have to wait until tomorrow.

 

Dave and I walk back to the George, where there is still no real ale on offer, so we decide to call it a night.

 

A Day at the Seaside

 

Stafford and I decided to extend the trip in order to have a day out at the seaside, as it’s only XX minutes on the train to Clacton-on-Sea, where there is a Good Beer Guide pub, III other pubs worth exploring, a pier, and crucially, crazy golf!

 

However, now that Tina and Annie have decided that they would also like to go to Clacton, we’ll be getting a lift there and back. Result!

 

Colchester having been conquered, everybody else is making their way back to Rome today, and from what I gather they’ve all enjoyed the weekend as much as I, so it’s been a successful campaign. Those who doubt Man-in-a-Hat’s capabilities should note the following comment “excellent organisation as always”.

 

Before setting off, I even have time for a coffee in my room for the first time this trip. Good grief, brew bags! Why is life getting more complicated?

 

How is having to extract a bag from a plastic packet (without rupturing the bag), putting that in a cup, “brewing” it for IV minutes in a cup and then having to get it back out of the cup and into the bin without dripping coffee on the carpet, better than instant coffee?

 

And it tastes exactly the same! First world problems.

 

On our arrival in Clacton, our first stop is the Clacton Railway Club near the station, where we decide to park the car for the day.

 

Although Clacton Railway Club is a members’ only club, as it serves real ale, it’s happy to allow visits from CAMRA Members, as are many clubs across the UK.

 

Keen students of these blogs will recall many a good club we’ve been allowed to drink in over the years, e.g. the Guiseley Factory Workers Club and the Woking Railway Athletic Club.

 

I’d arranged to visit the Clacton Railway Club via email prior to setting off for Colchester, so we’re expected. It’s Fullers London Pride or Sharps Doombar, so I opt for the former.

 

Although London Pride isn’t the sort of ale I typically drink, it’s actually very good, particularly as it’s most likely the first pint to be drawn off today.

 

The Club is just as you’d expect it to be, a huge square venue with a small stage on the back wall. As you enter, there is a board listing all of the Members of the Committee, which indicates who is currently on the premises. No hiding place then.

 

We are made to feel very welcome (as IV Members of CAMRA you may recall), despite the fact that I am the only one actually drinking real ale. Stafford opted for Guinness and Tina and Annie are both having a cup of tea!

 

It’s about a XV minute walk to Clacton Pier from here, past the Old Lifeboat House, the only Good Beer Guide pub in the area, which we’re saving for later.

 

The walk along the front to the pier is very pleasant and it’s remarkably mild considering what the weather was like just a couple of days ago. 

 

 

 

The crazy golf starts to emerge along the front. It’s gigantic. I can’t wait to give this one a go. Disaster! Closed for repairs.

 

 

Facing the pier are II pubs, Tom Peppers and the Moon and Starfish.

 

As we enter Tom Peppers, which should have III ales available, I note that Doombar is the only offering, resulting in a hasty about turn.

 

Over the road is the Moon and Starfish, the local Wetherspoons, where I try the Ten Fifty from Grainstore, which isn’t bad, but not as good as it was in the Playhouse in Colchester on Thursday.

 

Annoyingly, this was the third ale I’d asked for, the first II being unavailable despite the pump-clips facing towards me, the customer, rather than the bar staff, which would indicate non-availability. Apparently, it’s Wetherspoons policy to leave all pump-clips facing the customer irrespective, which surely just wastes a lot of time and cheeses off customers?

 

Annie indulges in some fish and chips. The place is very busy, but aside from the name and the old pictures of Clacton, is a rather unremarkable venue.

 

The pier is crammed packed full of stuff to do: the big wheel; log flume; various roller-coasters , bumper cars; kids rides; and of course arcade games galore, including surely the most boring game ever invented, the coin pusher, which I gather is now a TV programme. What a world.

 

 

I would have had a go on some of the rides, but the only way you’re allowed, is it you buy some “fun tokens”, and whilst each ride is II or III tokens, the minimum you can purchase is XI. Too complicated for me.

 

I think this is the largest pier I’ve ever been on. It’s shaped like a cartoon bone, with the prom-end housing the rides and arcades, and the end in the sea, where you’ll find the Jolly Roger bar / cafe. The narrow bit in-between has various displays and places where you can sit and enjoy the sea air.

 

 

 

After some freshly made seaside doughnuts (who can resist that smell?) we head back to the Old Lifeboat House for refreshments. Surely there is no way that this used to be the Lifeboat House, it just looks like some random red-brick building. 

 

 

However, there is a good selection of ales in here, so we settle in whilst I work my way along the row of V pumps. The ales are all good, without being exceptional, including the Blood Orange IPA from Settle and Preservation from Castle Rock.

 

The best beer of the visit to Clacton ended up being the London Pride in the Clacton Railway Club. Didn’t see that one coming.

 

Back to Base Camp

 

The drive back to Colchester is certainly interesting, aided by II Satnavs, the one in the car, and another on a mobile device. Also chipping in is a road atlas. The result is III versions of the truth and regular off-roading, which is not great when you’re full of beer.

 

Back in Colchester, Stafford and I are treated to a curry by Tina and Annie at the Maharani on High Street, opposite the Three Wise Monkeys, just a few doors down from the George.

 

The curry was excellent and very much appreciated.

 

I convince myself that there is still time to conclude some unfinished business, namely the Magnet, so Tina kindly agrees to drop me off on her way to her hotel.

 

However, the Magnet closes at 6pm on Sundays (I’ve since updated local CAMRA who have already updated Whatpub.com) so I end up in the Victoria again, meaning I can try a few more of their ales.

 

Only one ale has survived last night, i.e. they’ve all been drunk, and I know that the one I recognise was put on during our visit yesterday evening. There are therefore V new ales to tempt me, including a dark mild from a brewery called Unbarred, which is good.

 

As I imbibe my final pint of the trip, I’m finding it quite nice being on my own after all of the excitement of the past IV days. Sometimes an Emperor needs some space.

 

But what’s this? Another new ale is being pulled through. The turnover of ale in this pub is truly remarkable. As you know, one of the unwritten rules of drinking real ale is, that if a new beer comes on, you’re obliged to stay and try it.

 

So, after my final, final ale of the trip I walk back to the George, safe in the knowledge that there will be no ale there to keep me out of bed any longer.

 

Taking Stock of the Campaign

 

As there was no teletext on the TV in my room, due to it being too modern and therefore much better (i.e. totally useless), we’re none-the-wiser as to how County’s magnificent win has affected the League table.

 

I therefore acquire a copy of the League Paper during our walk to the train station, which takes a little longer than anticipated. Nevertheless, Passenger Assistance is waiting for Stafford, so all is well.

 

County now have LIX points. Last season, the third placed team finished on LXXX and the seventh placed team got LXXVII, the highest for a number of seasons, so there is still work to be done.

 

Looking at the last V seasons, LXX points could be enough for seventh, but it has needed LXXXV points to secure automatic promotion. I hope that’s all clear?

 

No? Well, it looks like we may need (post Mansfield) VI wins from IX games to get into the play-offs, or VIII to go straight up. Surely that can’t be right!

 

After the League Paper unkindly informs us that Mansfield have the best away record in the Division, we move onto the cryptic crossword.

 

We’re met by Passenger Assistance at Liverpool Street and safely escorted to the tube that will take us the Euston Square, where we’re met again and taken to the top of the stairs and given directions to Euston.

 

When we get to Euston, we’re taken on the buggy to the appropriate platform, long before it’s location is announced to the unassisted masses, meaning we can get settled before the inevitable stampede.

 

The crossword is a bit of a struggle. For one clue “Extreme Europeans” I want to put “Nazis”, but the answer turns out to be “Poles”.

 

We’re met again at Stockport, and Stafford is escorted to his train to Davenport, as he’s far too busy to come out with me for a few beers and something to eat in Stockport.

 

I head for the Wellington on my way for tea at the Boars Head in the Market Place. It’s chucking it down. Great to be back. What a superb “weekend”, even the football, and lots of proper pubs selling excellent real ale to boot.

 

In Bakers Vaults, I exchange nods with Matty and Chris. Little do they know that I’m still on my way back from Colchester.

 

Is there unfinished business in Colchester? Oh yes. The Magnet, the British Grenadier and the Purple Dog (although some of my Legion did capture this in my name), not to mention only being able to have a single pint in each of the pubs in St. Johns.

 

Back in Rome

 

Upon returning home I find a message on my phone (what sits on a table in my house!), and an email, from the George who have been trying to reach me in order to finalise the arrangements for my meal there Saturday night. Why they didn’t try room 202 in their own hotel heaven only knows.

 

One of the things that I’ve realised this trip, is that if I want to keep on doing trips like these, I’m probably going to have to do less trips like these, so that’s probably me done, at least until the play-offs anyway.

 

One final word about the Passenger Assistance, which was consistently excellent throughout the trip, and now that their website has been sorted out, very easy to arrange.

 

Of course, the acid test is could Stafford have made the trip without help from his friends? You’d have to ask him, but this is the first time I’ve actually felt that he probably could have.

 

You don’t have to be registered as disabled to use Passenger Assistance, so if you fancy giving it a try, click here:- https://booking.passengerassistance.com/

 

Should County (and I) make the play-offs, I promise to report with more brevity.

 

#On a gathering storm comes a short ugly Emperor, in a tatty blue hat, with a blue right hand.#

 

 

Emperor in a Hat