retiredmartin
retiredmartin
Martin
Retired NHS, doing long walks around UK and the world to record the great bits. Focused on Good Beer Guide pubs and live music.
Latest Posts
January 2026. St Annes. Mrs RM decided to leave the Fifteen at Seventeen Twenty-Three. I have no idea why. “A walk along the bracing sea front, Mrs RM ?“ “No, Mr RM. Tea and back to that nice warm room at the Travelodge“. St Annes was...
January 2026. St Annes. Two nights in St Annes, with Friday designated as “Tick Blackpool Day”, so we went local on Thursday. St. Tanz is the sort of genius pun that BRAPA would be proud of, in a seaside retirement town that lacks trad...
January 2026. Lytham St. Annes. A confession. The things that stress me aren’t the things that should stress an approaching middle-age boomer. I detest cars. Last Autumn (America – “Fall”) our Citroen’s gears started playing up, the main...
January 2026. Watton. Norfolk. I knew you’d want a proper post on Watton (pronounced Wotton) ahead of the holiday you’ve just booked on account of the NBSS 4 that I just gave Greene King IPA. Assuming you’re going, here’s some...
January 2026. Watton. Norfolk. Obviously no pressure to visit the GBG newbies anymore, but there’s something compelling about them, even if my pinking is a bit half-hearted these days. The places I’d circled were the newbies, and as I’ve...
January 2026. Sheffield. Enough of me, I’m sure you’re all keen to know how Mrs RM is getting on with her 0.0 January. Well, she holds on to the lie that alcohol-free beer tastes just like the real thing, and was ready to have temptation...
January 2026. Sheffield. Back home in Sheffield on Saturday lunchtime, I hid under the covers avoiding the Manchester derby. Unless I’m physically at the match, I have to avoid the score till the final whistle and last VAR review. “Ooh,...
January 2026. Widnes. A confession. I intended to make that post on Mudgie’s funeral a long read including the post-wake pubs, but Mrs RM had finished her pint/wine/Amaretto Disaronno in St Annes Spoons and I had to press “PUBLISH” in...
January 2026. Widnes. A really good turnout for Mudgie’s send off, with loads of friends from Stockport CAMRA. Good to catch up with Tandleman from over the border, too. With some lovely poems from Peter’s next of kin Pam this was a...
January 2026. Widnes. From a morning in Liverpool to mourning in Widnes, as Peter is laid to rest with his parents. “Anyone for Widnes needs to move to the front carriages” says the nice guard in his guttural Mersey accent, confirming...
January 2026. Liverpool. A night in Liverpool before Old Mudgie’s funeral on Friday in Widnes. He’d have been pleased with the last couple of Proper Pubs, and no doubt with the Excelsior across from my £24.99 Travelodge if I’d gone in,...
January 2025. Liverpool. One of my (few) guiding principles in life is that I will never stand still (literally) when there’s a walk to be done, and “Your food will be ready in 10 minutes” is an instruction, not invitation, to skip out...
January 2026. Liverpool. I hope AI does take over the world. It’s much more polite than the humans. Chat GPT may not know how to count, but it can do useful things like advise on Chinese takeaways. And so it was that in the Roscoe Head I...
January 2026. Liverpool. Ten minutes walk from Love Lane through Liverpool One‘s shops brings me to my Travelodge, and reminds me I still haven’t repaired that wedding ring I had surgically removed by Ernest Jones Jewellers here in 2023....
January 2026. Liverpool. A third new Liverpool GBG tick in barely an hour brought me to the scruffier bit of the modern city, not far from Toxteth and Cains and all that. Love Lane is notably quieter than the Ropewalks pubs, but seems to...