August 2026. Frome. I can’t remember why we started our Proper Pub Crawl/Curated Survey of Licensed Premises* at the Blue Boar. Oh yes, it opened at 10am. We live in a world where many pubs don’t open till 4pm (if at all) during the week, noon if you’re lucky, so the value operators like Wetherspoons and (as here)...

August 2026. Frome. Somerset. A weekend in student digs in Bath, with the centrepiece a Saturday pubbing in Frome, guided by local celebrities Jon and Tracey. “Froooom. Throwm. ANiceTotnes. However you pronounce it, Frome is a gem”, I wrote on my last visit in March 2020, just before something cataclysmic happened....

August 2026. Bath. I’d opted for a couple of nights down in Bath, a little luxurious but the student residences on the edge of town were cheaper than a Doncaster Travelodge, Twerton Mill’s riverside rooms near Bath City FC spotless and (most importantly) with high-speed Wi-Fi. OK, they’re also half an hour’s walk...

August 2026. Bath. I arrived back at Isambard’s (quite good) statue with 5 minutes to spare, and half an hour later was clambering the Paragon steps on the edge of central Bath. You must know this one. A symphony in brown dark red, where Stafford Paul awaited with the sacred jug of flat Bass. I’d put my Bath Star...

August 2026. Bristol. My train to Bath left in 50 minutes time; Google reckoned 54 minutes walk from the Port of Call to Temple Meads, which gave little time for dawdling on the descent through Cotham Hill. And so, once more, I could only pause at the Highbury Vaults, and marvel that they still have the full range...

August 2026. Bristol. I’ll show my deep ignorance of suburban Bristol now and admit I don’t really know the difference between Clifton Village and Clifton proper, about 50p on a pint I guessed. Yes, there are buses I could have taken, but then I’d have missed the closed zoo, Clifton Down looking like a scorched...

August 2026. Bristol. It’s been a while, but I finally managed a trip outside that brutal Manchester-Midlands-Cambridge-Kent corridor last weekend. A choice of routes down to Bath, and the one stopping at Oxford would have been ideal except the pub there didn’t open till 2pm and I needed to be at the Star for 4. So,...

August 2026. Skegness. Lincolnshire. We stayed at The Vine, as we did back in 1999 when our 6 month old cried through Roger Protz’s dinner in the oak panelled dining room. A week later we found out James had a hernia, bless him. I’m not sure if this Best Western even is the smartest place in Skeggy; as I mentioned...

August 2026. Skegness. Lincolnshire. Obviously Skegness isn’t the most newsworthy east coast seaside resort this week, what with alien bins* competing for our attention, but I was genuinely keen to discover why the trains from Sheffield and buses from Lincoln seemed so packed in Summer. Previous visits I remember...

August 2026. Skegness. A Sunday night in Skegness, my first Summer visit, so no better time to see the real heart of the seaside choice of the entire East Midlands. I’d been looking at a train from Sheffield but a) it’s £54 before railcard, b) takes over 3 hours, c) the carriages are more crowded than the hen party...

August 2026. Skegness. Lincolnshire As you’ll know I’m not intending to complete the Beer Guide again, once in a lifetime is scary enough, as David Byrne sang. But I still like visiting the new GBG pubs, and colouring in the maps, and a lone micro had prevented me licking Lincolnshire for too long. So, after...

August 2026. Sawtry. Near Huntingdon. This was the view from our motel window last Saturday, near the lowest pub in the country*. Redwings Lodge, on the B1043 (Ermine Street) alongside the A1(M) at Sawtry, was the only place (well) under a hundred quid we could stay near Dad last Saturday night. This weekend is...