BRAPA is .... SETTING THE BAR LOW-ESTOFT

Bungay didn't feel particularly remote, in fact it had a nice selection of well tarmacked roads going east and west. But there was something about being there. It felt like you'd never be allowed to leave.

Waiting half an hour for a bus that never showed didn't help, why were bus services so sparse? So how lucky was I when on the opposite side of the road, I manage to pick up an empty bus I didn't know existed rattling through to Beccles, 6pm by now, only three ticks done.

I calculated that if I dashed, I could get 28 minutes in my final Beccles GBG pub, and still make the next train to Lowestoft. That'd be five ticks. I'll take that after a difficult day.

But remember, today wasn't going to let me have it easy and as we reach Beccles, the driver, presumably thinking I just wanted the terminus, cuts off the corner nearest the pub, leaving me with an extra five minute walk. So make that 23 mins in the pub! Why is pub ticking so tough?

I jog to it, to try and gain a minute or two back. It didn't seem like the kind of pub people jog to .....

All encompassing backstreet boozing at the Ingate, Beccles ( 2545 / 4440 ) , love the 'strange & cheerful staff' sign, only just noticed that, and looking back yes she offered a perky welcome. The other customer's are all paint-stain overalled under 25's drinking hypnotically fizzy lagers glinting in the sun. I've chosen well with the Orange Wheat by Green Jack, I needed a highly quaffable ale with the time constraints and this is perfect, like your first bottle of Orangina from one of those bulgy glass bottles when you land in Lanzarote. In the back bar, under the shark by the red baize of the pool table, too many flies are circling so I take my drink to the outdoor area. Here, an even younger lad is sat with his tongue out. Like a cat when it gets distracted washing itself and hasn't realised. He reminds me of Keane Lewis Potter. There are some cute booths out here, a bit like the Blue Anchor Helston but a bit less historic. Bet I'm the first to mention these two pubs in the same breath. No time to get too comfy, focus on necking my Orange beer and then striding back to the station.

I make the train, and soon I was in Lowestoft and OMG, what a shittthhhoooollleee, the likes of which I've not seen for a long time on my travels.

Like a scene from The Birds, subservient local bag people cower beneath the angriest squawking seagulls I've ever witnessed, they really rule the roost here! One section of the pavement in this miserable shopping precinct is pure white with seagull shit. Obscure reference time - like that episode of Round the Twist where the ghost seagull covers the whole of Port Niranda. It stinks too. Castleford meets Bridlington with none of the humour or self deprictation.

Could tonight's pub (one of three here, but the other two were again to be 'strategic leaves' for tomorrow) fare any better?

Well yes, it could actually. In fact, Triangle Tavern, Lowestoft (2546 / 4441) must be regarded as one the strongest pubs of the week, up there with Bungay, Wenhaston, Westhall et al. Rapidly becoming a big Green Jack fan, and this is the place to find them - NOT that we get impressed by beer range on this channel, but seven of the eight on and an eighth on by the time I leave - locals congregated in the back bar sinking 'em like there is no tomorrow, myself and a couple of smiley 'tourists' (must've got lost looking for Southwold) in the perfectly formed square wooden front bar. And a lovely landlady, well once I offered to pay by cash and she stops eyeing me like a local scroat because my card had declined twice - too many small transactions in the same day? The pee stained seat was a highlight too, and the Lurcher Stout was supreme.

Back to Thetford for a late Rustlers inspired supper .....

.... it was perhaps no surprise I slept through my alarm the following morning.

Not ideal when you wanna get back to those eastern climes. Lowestoft again is my base as I take a bus south to the home of Adnams, and the scene of my birthday card from my parents for the last two years .... Southwold!

Prettier than Lowestoft (but so is Scunthorpe), the bus took its sweet-ass time in getting there but was worth the wait. Gorgeous town, even local wannabe mascots were whoring themselves in windows like something off of Amsterdam .....

Chris the crab was my fave, but he'd never fit into the BRAPA bag. I kind of regret not buying Ozan the Octopus. Shirley the Shrimp never really was considered viable.

Anyway, no time to tarry, I've got a pub to tick .....

Set in prime coastal location (shame we can't scroll to the right on the above photo to see the sea) Lord Nelson, Southwold (2547 / 4442) is perhaps the most surprising wet-led pub of my entire ticking career. A beautifully self-effacing wood panelled jewel. The atmosphere thrums in gentle pint drinking local daytime harmony, punctuated only by the semi-regular tourist request "do you do food?" They all scuttle out as quickly as they arrived, leaving amused satisfied relieved smiles to flicker across the faces of myself and the assembled drinkers. £5.40 may seem a bit steep for a 3.4% Adnams/Siren collaboration but believe me, it was very much worth it. Pint of the day, on a day where beer would struggle. And then there's the tale of the two abandoned Ghost Ships, spookily shipwrecked on the bar, one sip taken from each. "I don't think they're coming back" says a dreadlocked surfer type. "I'll leave them on the bar for now, you never know they may return, stranger things have happened" says the barmaid, and I don't doubt it. "Why would anyone DO this?" complains a motivated lady from New Zealand who has gone to get a takeaway coffee to drink in this pub, because her hobbit hubbie wants a pint and the coffee machine here is struggling or doesn't exist. "Happens more often than you'd fink!" chirps a man with hairy knuckles. I enjoyed this pub a lot.

Before my bus back north, there was enough time for a quick half at the post-emptive Sole Bay Inn which has featured on my last two birthday cards from Mummy BRAPA. Not quite as pretty in reality, and very foody. In fact, being so close to Adnams Brewery, and from my sniffing point at the door, I could smell the fish lunches through my right nostril, brewing through the left, a heady mix. Judging by the quality of this ale, and ones I'd have later in the day, I'd say this pub definitely deserves to be back in the 2024 edition of the GBG. "Those youse glasses?" asks a lady with a Coatbridge lilt, indicating a pair of reading glasses left at the bar. I tell her no, but I'll hand them in before I leave. She says "aye, thanks!" through a mouthful of crab and Buckfast, or whatever Coatbridge people sample when they are down in Southwold.

Another three pubs chalked off. Sadly I'm a month and three days behind again but not to worry, August should be a quietish month so plenty of chance to catch up.

And I'll be back tomorrow for the July month end review. Same format as last month, really enjoyed writing it, but give me feedback if it seems a bit dry, mappy and clinical.

Toe Update - biggest test for it yet yesterday, with a trip to Grimsby / Cleethorpes. It was sore, red and swollen when I got home, and had turned away from the toe next to it like they'd had a lovers tiff and weren't on speaking terms! Gonna strap it up today, hope they make friends again.

Si