The lights weren't on, but they were home ......
Gone 12 noon at the Crown, Surfleet, on the latest Daddy BRAPA Lincs Chauffeuring extravaganza on this Bank Holiday Sunday at the end of August.
The wiry gardening landlord, stood to the back left of the pub, sees me lurking and asks if he can help. He really is the most chipper chap with the sunniest outlook who has denied me entry to his pub ever!
"Not opening Sunday daytime until 17th September" he chirrups like a gladdened Goldcrest. At this point, I should really have done a Columbo, turned on my haunches, and said, wagging a finger "....and one more thing ..... what are your opening hours on Thursday's and Saturday's?" but I forgot.
Was praying this pub got binned from the 2024 GBG, but it hasn't, so expect to see a second BRAPA farce in the coming months. Might have to break the habit of a lifetime and phone ahead! Keeping social media up to date certainly isn't something they believe in. I read most of their trade revolves around wakes! There is a crematorium nearby. Insert your own joke.
Thankfully, solace was found just a couple of miles down the road ......
This thatched beauty, the Ship Inn, Pinchbeck (2629 / 4524) was such a hive of Bank Holiday festivity, you had to wonder if the throbbing throng were 50% disappointed Surfleeteers. Our furthest jaunt south yet, I had been worried just 'how low (south) Daddy B. was willing to go' but this proved his net spreads further than the mid Lincs as I'd feared after our recent Louth/Aby day. Ghost Ship was the beer I opt for, because a cute toy pheasant's beak was pointing at the pump clip. Well, how do you choose your beer? Fabulous window display, cotton wool clouds, miniature animals, hot air balloons, steampunk on safari? I like a quirky pub who refuses to play it safe with blandness (within reason). The staff tell us there is a live music outside, so we go for a wander, where a barbecue is being fired up as the masses grab the sauce and picnic benches on the large undulating lawn. A bloke is violining to a backing track. Dad eventually recognises the tune as Amy MacDonald's 'This is the Life'. Good catch, Daddy B! With his nostrils now twitching as those burgers sizzle, I thought it best to move on before we get too comfy (six ticks n all that!)
Still in the 2024 GBG? Yes, and fully deserved on this visit.
Next stop was a typically Lincs village called Donington, famous for being the home of former Aussie explorer Matty Flinders. I've been to a pub on Flinders Street in Melbourne, and raced down it to hop aboard the Neighbours tour bus just in the nick of time! So I felt an instant affinity with the lad.
They found his body under Euston Station a couple of years back, probably as underwhelmed by the Doric Arch as I usually am, and is being brought back to Donington in 2024 for a re-burial. Nice.
Really noticeable that when you get further south in Lincs, it starts becoming a livelier happier county - something I'd witnessed around Sleaford recently, and this pub, Black Bull, Donington (2630 / 4525) was full of highly motivated characters. A shuffling old bloke gently knees me in the groin and murmurs something amusing which I can't understand. The barmaid has the poise and grace of one of the greats of the silver screen, and I go for a wee just to get out of the way because I keep colliding with well meaning staff. I've never seen so many doors marked 'private', I wonder what goes on here?! Best I don't know, the Gents door is about the 50th I reach, after a washing machine! When I return, Dad has found a low down plush benched area with an ancient stand alone beam, which must MEAN something. The bar front is glorious, the pub sings, and my 5% Bateman's drinks like a lit Christmas tree. Pub of the day contender this.
Still in the 2024 GBG? You betcha life it is!
Just down t'road, we come to the third and final pub of this part.
The ancient inn sign at the 1665 built Bubonic-tastic Ye Olde Red Lion, Bicker (2631 / 4526) was a highlight. NOT that I disliked it, in fact it had a lot going for it, but after the highs of the previous two, this was a more stereotypical unashamed dining Lincs experience. Old Speckled Hen (a beer I struggle with these days) in an impossibly heavy octagonal heavy drinking vessel didn't help, neither did a giant blackboard claiming "tipping makes you sexy!" But the hardworking army of staff were endearing, especially when I got lost finding the loo and a black and white waitress put me right, I exclaim "corrr, I clocked 'em when we were getting served and then totally forgot, hope I'm not drunk already hahahaha" and she replied with "hahahaha" which I appreciated. Bet she thought 'right weirdo!' The pub got more atmospheric the longer you were here, warped beams and stone-flagged floors helping, plus a series a tanned pink folk morphing into each other, some were landlord's posing as drinkers, others laboured under their prawn tagliatelle. Yes, on reflection, decent place this. In Kingdom of Fife, it is POTY.
Still in the 2024 GBG? Sure is, which makes it 100% for this blog. Nice lack of churn, Lincs.
Join me next week for part 2, how many of those pubs will remain in the 2024 GBG? Could we keep this promising standard going?
Thanks for reading, Si
Coming back to this as I stopped in Donington Black Bull for lunch yesterday, return after many years, glad you both liked it. SO much life, cider company reps on Christmas meet-up, OK Bateman, HUGE burger.