It’s already fading away into the past, although it was only a couple of weeks ago.
The van coped really well with the distance, and the travelling between towns. Only a couple of things broke.
Our first stop, at Banham, involved a most pleasant afternoon with old friends (from the northeast).
Our stay in Banham was something of an accident; we’d not realised that we’d stayed at the same place a decade or so earlier. After a couple of days, we moved on.
I’d never been to Great Yarmouth before; I found, as I’d been advised, that it resembles Blackpool.
Gorleston was much nicer, although the dog enjoyed the beach at both places. We did manage to find some pretty cool bars, particularly the Tombstone brewery and Thirsty Crow.
On the return trip, there was the compulsory stay in Peterborough.
I’d never been to Bakewell before, or (until a couple of years ago) know about the Peakender beer festival. I really wanted to go last year, but knew it wouldn’t be wise to leave the bar for four days in our first year (I’d already done that for Glastonbury).
So, this year, we made the decision to go as a team and close the bar. We didn’t regret it for a second.
The festival was more than a beer thing, there was music and a lovely vibe about the place. It was dog friendly and we even found a nearby stream for the hound.
The Thornbridge brewery tap room was a must at the close of the festival, as was some time in the town itself.
And we were so pleased that the van only smoked a little bit and just one bit fell off.
Some dog pictures from pubs in Newcastle the other night. She’s possibly the cutest dog ever.
I didn’t really want a dog, but once persuaded, I wanted a pub dog. I couldn’t have asked a better pub dog; or a better dog. Life wouldn’t be the same without her.
So, me, my beloved and the hound had a pleasant evening on Thursday in Peterborough.
We weren’t there for the best of reasons, a funeral.
Roadworks meant we arrived later than we’d have liked, but we still managed most of the bits that mattered: the Bumble Inn, the Ostrich, the Draper’s Arms, the College Arms (ok, so the last one’s awful).
We met a lovely guy in the Ostrich, from Cramlington originally, but he’s lived in Peterborough for a couple of decades. He’s a Gateshead supporter though.
This morning (yesterday really, I guess), I had a big decision to make. While my beloved was at the funeral, I could either fill in the pub gap from the previous night (just two), or go for a walk with the dog.
Surprisingly, I decided on the latter.
So, the hound and I walked along the Nene, ending up on the Green Wheel route. I’d cycled that way a few years ago, but it’s so much slower on foot, even with a two year old dog.
Anyway, we had a lovely walk this morning/afternoon.
And then it rained. And snowed (the hailstones we’re a killer).
The dog doesn’t like rain. So she didn’t like (or understand) hailstones. We were caught out in the open.
My usual plan in such circumstances would be to seek a pub. Unfortunately, this wasn’t an option, since I was on a bike path. That left me with a choice; continue on the path back to Peterborough, or seek shelter.
I decided on the latter, ending up in Stanground. That probably wasn’t my best decision.
With no shelter in Stanground, other than a leaky bus shelter, we waited to be rescued by my beloved. We were a bit wet at that point.
