BRAPA ..... RUTLAND WEEKEND ALEVISION SPECIAL

When Daddy BRAPA wielded the green Staedtler (love you guys, please send me free pens) on the Plough, Greetham (2839 / 4999), it became my second county completion in the space of a few days, following hot on the heels of Greater Manchester.

My second Rutland completion, having previously done it back in March 2018, and only two pubs remained from that time, Oakham's Grainstore Tap and Ryhall's Green Dragon.

The standard of pubs in the 2024 edition was far superior than those of 2018, and that is heart warming. Greetham's Plough served the kind of JHB which glides down effortlessly, even six pints in when you've been drinking at a rate of knots. It had a superb carpet, darts Oche line, and piano, what more do you want from your boozer?

I'm too young to remember Rutland Weekend Television by the way, being more Count Duckula era, but I nicked the idea off ticker extraordinaire Duncan Mackay, who I would like to apologise to for falsely asserting that he'd been scared of Ashton-under-Lyne's Halfway House last time out. He in fact found it really friendly. So please don't sue.

The day had started in the Crown Inn, Uppingham (2834 / 4994), quite the bustling town for Rutland, even on a Sunday morning. We'd set off from York 8:45am, and the pub was in full swing well before 11am.

Dad later revealed that this was his 'pub of the day', partly on the basis that he often likes the first pub best. Personally, I thought it was one of our weaker ones, though only in the grand scheme of this high quality day. His fake orange J2O served in quality whisky tumbler was presumably a nicer drink than my quite watery Everard's session guest. But the young staff were very polite, the pub was warm and convivial, and decently populated for such an unlikely pub going time of the week. Oh, and any pub which plays Summer Wine by Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra gets a bonus point, even sans carpet.

To find one non Wetherspoons pub open before noon on a Sunday is a rarity, so to find two in close proximity was quite astonishing, even if the sage green inn sign and dreadful font fooled me into thinking it was gonna be namby pamby dining lameness.

Truth of the matter is that the Plough Inn, Caldecott (2835 / 4995) is a strong contender - note the orangey stone which we noticed all over Rutland, the colour of a quality golden ale. It is a pub first and foremost, and if you wanna eat, that's your beeswax, you can do so unpretentiously. 'Nothing green on my plate!' warns the woman next to us (thankfully, she had plenty of carrots to offer some break from the beige). We got some reet good banter going with the lady behind the bar, proper perky character, guest beer is aptly called Electric Landlady and it was like she'd been plugged in to achieve such a high level of barmaiding. What a beer btw, from the local Baker's Dozen which I'd never seen before. They do a 6% IPA called '12 Second Panda' which today's mascot Ivor was hoping to see. Daddy B rates Ivor as the BEST mascot since Colin. "Really got something about him that lad!" I agree. Keane Lewis Who? Oh, and this pub represents 63% of the GBG complete.

Forgive me whilst we briefly get distracted by Northamptonshire. Today was the perfect opportunity to tackle my 11th last N'hants tick, and perhaps the most isolated, which is quite an achievement when you consider what a tricky bugger that county is. We kept passing amazing viaducts, and the villages were effortlessly chocolate box.

This is the Harringworth viaduct and Daddy B is here to tell you more "....one passenger train a day from Melton Mowbray to St Pancake via Corby goes right over the viaduct, plus freight trains and specials. IT crosses the River Welland and is 1,300 yards long". So now you know!

As we step out of the car, I shout hello to a bloke straight out of a modern Midsomer Murders, and he seems quite taken aback, but as I learnt in Ashley & Weston-by-Welland, you have to be prepared for a bit of snooty rudeness in this part of the world.

So I'm relieved to report what a welcoming pub the Cross Keys, King's Cliffe (2836 / 4996) actually is. Guv'nor makes it. One of those hugely impressive ultra switched-on type of dudes who is all over every feature of this deceptively deep multi-faceted inn. Remember my lamentations back in Broadstairs regarding my failure to get a pint of that new Ossett / Oakham 'collab'? Well, it was on here and every bit as delicious as I'd hoped. East Midlands beer quality so good - easy to forget it isn't all about Derbys & Notts and it extends well into Leics, Rutters, Northants and I guess the not very East Midlandy Cambs. I am in magnanimous mood this evening, but even I can't bring myself to include Lincs in this. We sit on some spinny Guinness stools, surprise John Smith's brewerianarama distracts me from the fake bookcase wallpaper. Then I go a wandering and end up apologising to this cute family in a large baronial dining room, though I fail to locate the Skittles table ... though I'd failed to locate the snug room in Caldecott so I guess I'm just not that observant.

Back into Rutters we go, and the amazing run of form continues in another cute hovel called Ketton.

I usually find non-railway towns & villages which have pubs harking back to a railway era a bit annoying, because the public transport ticker in me feels like they are rubbing my nose in it, but like the excellent Railway Tavern in Aby, this Railway, Ketton (2837 / 4997) is yet another pub of the day contender. Ketton is the home of Baker's Dozen brewery and they have another one on here, called Phantom. But I have to go 'old skool' as the landlady puts it and go Bass. I recount the electric landlady story, to which she and the bar blockers all laugh, but then asks "Am I not electric enough? Am I more phantom?" and it was a difficult question to answer so I join Dad in the corner, sup up and say nowt. An angry cockney geezer is trying to impress some ladies with tales of how much lager he drank in Cyprus.

A few nerves start building on the eve of pub five because any ticker worth their salt will be well aware how awkward the opening hours are for this particular club ... but a 'summer' Sunday afternoon seemed the right time to visit, and the sight of distant Twilds dicking around atop a bouncy castle convinced me all was open and errm, bouncing.

Open door policy at Empingham Cricket & Social Club, Empingham (2838 / 4998) and that's what you like to see from your GBG club, no questions, no cards, no codes, no charity tins, no guest books. The Moor Resonance is lovely and murky, and it comes in a Bass glass which makes up for the lack of Bass glass for my Ketton Bass. Uganda aren't doing very well in the cricket, I wonder how they'd shape up against Empingham? But then I remember Uganda rhymes with Panda due to an obscure Hull City chant in the early noughties for Gary Alexander. 'Won't you lend me your sander?' On the way back from the loos, I feel confident enough to pinch us a couple of baby new potatoes, although a woman does give me a scowl.

And then it was on to Greetham where we began, and the long drive back to York where Daddy B rewards himself for an abstemious day with a late Fox Inn main bar blockbuster. What a pub!

See you all very soon over on Twxtter for my 2,840th tick.

Si