BRAPA in..... BUZZARD UNCOVERED (YOU'VE MADE YOUR BEDS, NOW YOU'VE GOT A SI IN IT)

Saturday 6th December 2025

Having been Tony Gubba'd at home to the Smoggie darlings (0-4 down at half time, but we won the second half 1-0) the previous evening, it was a fragile BRAP soul who travelled down to Kings Cross on the 07:02 the following morning.

EMERGENCY HALF TIME GUINNESS SITUATION

But the restorative effects of an Arctic coffee and air fryer croissant cannot be underestimated. I gallop to Euston like a beast, have a quick widdle alongside a cross-eyed Spurs fan (narrows it down), and on the first available service to codebreaking Bucks hole, Bletchley.

Captain Ridley's Shooting Party, Bletchley (3188 / 6029) is actually named after code-speak, roughly translating as 'a pint of mixed with a side of tripe n' trotters my good man'. Try whispering it to the staff in the present day, and they'll just reply with "yes, that is the name of our pub". Shame. A functional 'Spoons with too many windows and roof lights to give you that authentic 'Spoons experience, but a coded carpet which screams 'manky fruit segments which need binning'. The Clootie Dumpling has travelled well from Orkney. I'll say zees only once but here I was, enjoying a 'Spoons Christmas beer in 2025! But it was swift. A plan is forming in the BRAPA brain. Unbeknownst to me at 7am, Fenny Stratford is highly walkable, and if I don't linger, I could get myself an hour ahead of my expected schedule!

So I scoot off purposefully, though holding a door open for a dithering elderly man cos I'm kind, still utterly amazed that Bletchley and Fenny Stratford are so close. I'd been to Fenny pre MK Dons many years back to tick a Red Lion (L**ds fans wrecked the joint a few weeks later, course they did) but the town had since tidied up.

In the bin with the manky fruit segments

Yards from the station (the key to making my plan possible), today's tick appears .....

Characterful gaff with good beam and brick coverage, Chequers, Fenny Stratford (3189 / 6030) appeals to me. The beer makes it better. Old Hooky. Bass. That guest Oakham I loved but spilled in Brentford. All three need pulling through (there's a Vale too but I didn't consider that), has me all twitchy for this next train, but the guv is such a smiley soul, I cannot display any outward impatience. And I've chosen the Hooky, definitely the hardest to neck of the three, utter dork. Then Bob comes in for a Strongbow. He looks like a man who knows local shizz so I ask him whether it is quicker to turn left or right out of the pub for the station. He says it is marginal, but sends me left. Was he right? Then the Seahorses start playing, random. Was obsessed with their only album back in the second half of '97 (funny cos I never took to the Stone Roses), back in my first Uni year, but listening to it now, just sounds like whiny indieness.

I needn't have rushed, the train is a couple of mins delayed which often happens when you've worked hard to fight against the clock, and won. It's FA Cup second round day and some visiting Oldham fans are standing around blinking like massive confused barm cakes who've never seen wintry sun before.

They'd lose 3-1 to the McMongs, who in turn would lose to Oxford in round 3, who now have Sunderland in round 4. They will lose that narrowly. We'll edge out Rosenoir's Chelsea in a thriller, and get a trip to Wearside in round 5. There. Calling it now. Remember this.

From 'early mad dash to get two pubs done' to 'gotta sit here and nurse one pint for an hour' at Station Tavern, Woburn Sands (3190 / 6031). But I find this quite a lame pub, and it surprises me because it looks a proper old Victoriana station gaff from the outside, but both service and beer quality is abysmal. Just where were the staff? At least at Wibbas Down (#NeverForget), they were present. The beer is Rockin' Rudolph, when will I learn not to be seduced by those LED reindeer lights? The general pub atmosphere doesn't sit right either. Kinda greasy and tatty, feels like they started trying to boutiquey modernise it then pulled out halfway through realising it wasn't what the punters want. I was here long enough to form such conclusions! Twilds careering about didn't help either. Anxious Toilet Guy tells his girlfriend 'I won't be long' and gives her an emotional kiss. This was after he's had Derby v Leicester changed for Villa v Arsenal despite not really caring. I left early because standing on a cold platform eating BRAPA snax felt preferable. 40 mins had felt like three hours.

Bedfordshire time! Two new ticks to do in Leighton Buzzard, the best beer town in the county and I doffed my imaginary cap to the brilliant Black Lion as I walk past, recalling the time the landlord got me pissed on beer festival tasters of 10% stouts, and then had to wake me up with an glass of icy cold water!

No chance of such japes today, but it had its moments .....

Limited, not really fit-for-purpose shop which lets you drink in, Bottle House, Leighton Buzzard (3191 / 6032) felt like the local CAMRA were desperately grasping for something, anything, modern n crafty to swell their GBG ranks. I sort of understand it, in a part of the world where you're more likely to get a wooden food clipboard menu pushed into your chest on arrival as you decide between GK IPA and a Wells Eagle that tastes like rusty 2p coins in a Bridlington amusement arcade. "Any cask ales on?" I ask the cheerful lady, who's utterly confused. She answers with "???" then "Oh, carrrrsssk, carrrsk, don't fink so". She tells me she'll leave me alone to make a decision(!) At this moment, I spot a sticker on the barrel underneath saying 'KeyKeg', I follow the tube up to corresponding pump, so ask for a pint of that. A fizzy Siren collab with a Welsh paralympian, course it is! £7.50, second cheapest beer here, course it is! I squish into a narrow raised window seat trying not to block door, or knock off the guy's olives next to me. Herculean effort. Five folk in and it is packed. Jeez, I'm SO looking forward to the day that Jim Brunt posts a link in the pub tickers WhatsApp group saying they've knocked through to an adjoining building due to the popularity of their venture, meaning I have to go back(!!)

More LB GBG nonsense is the notion that our next pub is closer to the station than this one, even though in reality the Bottle House is quite handy being in the centre of town, and this is a 15-20 min trek out to the 'burbs.

Exciting traffic island location, but a proper boozer and as you can imagine by what's preceded it, is what I'm craving. Stag, Leighton Buzzard (3192 / 6033) is so uncannily like the Stradey Arms in Llanelli, I started hacking up phlegm in Welsh 'll's'. An obscure comparison, but if you've been to both in the last five years and agree/disagree, please advise! Quietish mid aft, I'd put money on this place being rather lively at 10pm, ooof! London Pride is normally a safe pair of hands on the ale front, hence the "drinking well" tag, but just like in south St Albans on Thursday, it is found wanting here. Of course there's a Blind Sooty on the bar, totally that type of pub. He seems to be taunting me for swerving the ESB. "Patience grasshopper, Parcel Yard is a possibility" I tell him, the barmaid thinks I've taken leave of my senses. But then she smashes a glass so we're even, especially when old Geoff roars with laughter..... "Not again!" "That's my fourth this week!" she admits. Carpet is an encouraging 8.5, 9 if you take the oche into account. 'D' Division runners up, you'll never sing that.

Back to LB station on foot, next stop Cheddington for today's trickiest tick. Ideally I'd want to do the tricky stuff first, and the easier stuff last, but it doesn't always work out like that.

I must've done this exact same walk back 20th May 2017 when I ticked the Old Swan as part of my 100% Bucks completion year, and 8.5 yrs on it has had the nerve to include a newbie in with an entrance that took some finding.

I was expecting some gastro bollocks as you can well imagine from the above photo, but perhaps I lucked in with my accidental choice of entrance door because Three Horseshoes, Cheddington (3193 / 6014) transports me back in time to the year 1858 - a bygone, venerable square one-roomed bar of much repute, chivvied along by a top class Rebellion Smugglers, something I wasn't taking for granted as good beer had been at a premium today despite walking around with this heavy book called the GOOD BEER guide. Lose-lose in my attempts to find the loos! I push through the door to the other bar, convinced they must be there. I trip over the step. Laughed at by lumpy locals, who inform me they are outdoors anyway. Course they bloody are! A more 'outdoor looey' pub atmosphere you won't find on the wrong side of Bucks. Back in my quiet safe room, bladder turbulence over, my peace is broken by the Piss Family Robinson, here for tea. Mum, Dad, teenage kids. My random cold weather comment gets a hearty BRAPA chat going, and although the teenage lad glares moodily at Minecraft Porn (look, I don't know what teenage lads are into these days), the other three seem fascinated. So a nice ending to an interesting day of variable quality.

So that was all very pleasant wasn't it?

Back in London, with apologies to Blind Sooty for missing my Parcel Yard ESSB, I keep my good recent pre-emptive 'Spoons form going by ticking the Montagu Pyke, Charing Cross. Heaving, but leaning on the upstairs balcony outside the gents, I couldn't have done much better. The Leicester Square 'Spoons had been queuing and bouncers, so I'd declined that one (for now).

I'm on a 'witch walk' tomorrow (whatever that is) and then off to So'ton on Sat, so back Sunday evening to tell you what East Yorkshire and Millwall have in common.

Keep it pub, Si