Just outside of Cambridge is a little village called Grantchester, made famous to many by the Pink Floyd song Grantchester Meadows. A few months ago I paid it a visit!
It isn’t often that you get to taste something that you never imagined could exist, but that is exactly what happened with me and the Zubrowka Bison Grass Wodka back in October in Brussels.
About a month ago, I paid a visit to my ‘long lost’ third cousin Richard in the city of Bradford. On the return train back to Leeds (where I was stationed at the time) I hopped off in Shipley in order to investigate the renowned Saltaire Brewery. It did not disappoint.
I am now in York, the city with more pubs than days of the year. As such, I will be remaining here for at least a few months to do some exploring, and to work in a pub! On a related note, it is now the time of year for Winter ales, and since I am in York (a mere 10 miles from Tadcaster) who else would I bump in to than my old friend, the Samuel Smith’s Winter Welcome!
About a month ago I was in Birmingham, and though the birthplace of heavy metal had a certain attraction for me, it was clear that I was running out of interesting things to look at after three days of wandering around. I needed something else to do. As luck would have it, I remembered reading something about a bar crawl in Leam, and having a vague notion that I was perhaps near by, I went digging into my browser history!
Voila! A blog post “of all the pubs that you definitely haven’t visited, and probably shouldn’t.” That sounded like a challenge to me. After quickly copying down the bars from DollyFlower Cheese’s entertaining post, and figuring out that Leam was actually Royal-Leamington-Spa on the train line, I was ready.
Several years ago when I first got into cider, this was my favourite one! Compared to all the sweet stuff from Growers and Okanagan, this was so refreshingly weird, dry, and English. And then the liquor stores in BC stopped selling it. *Riley makes a sad face*
Yesterday I took the Metro train from Newcastle to North Shields for a stop of sorts on my ancestral home pub crawl. Except I wasn’t visiting a town where my ancestors lived; I was visiting real living relatives, my paternal grandfather’s cousins! I also didn’t stop in a pub, but I did drink some brandy, so I’ll give myself a pass.