Next Time We'll Stay In The Pub...

Once again there's no District line service this weekend necessitating a pre-6am departure from home. At least I was more than ready for breakfast at Da Vinci's when I got to King's Cross. Just me in there today - presumably it's all quiet due to the lack of Premiershite matches.

I got into Lincoln about 30 mins before opening time and it's such a lovely sunny day I decide to break with tradition and do a bit of touristy- stuff.

Normally I don't walk far into the nicer part of Lincoln but after coming here for many years, it was high time I had a closer look at the cathedral which dominates the town.

(left) Lincoln Cathedral - big ain't it?

The only problem is that it's a bit of a climb to get to it - I went via the cunningly-named Steep Hill and after 10 mins of puffing and blowing I finally got there. An impressive structure but there seems to be quite a lot of repair work going to various parts of the structure.

From there I had a short wander round the edge of the nearby castle and to a new pub for me, the Victoria, a Batemans outlet on Union Road, which sits just outside the castle ramparts. It had a big sign advertising a beer festival but alas that was the previous week.

Nevertheless, they still had a very reasonable range - Batemans XB and Summer Swallow, Landlord, Everards Sunchaser, Exmoor Gold, Castle Rock Harvest Pale and Black Hole's Red Dwarf.

I had the Summer Swallow which was a little disappointing as I've enjoyed the bottled variety on a number of occasions. The best on offer though was the Red Dwarf - a double SIBA award winner which went down very nicely.

John Bell had joined me by this point having made an impressive time up the hill from the station. It would normally have been a pub to spend all lunchtime in but we'd agreed to meet the others in our usual watering hole, the Golden Eagle.

It was quite a schlep but well worth it as they did have a beer festival on. There were a few DAFTS already in situ - Tony and Ray Waters as well as Chris and Simon. We were later joined by Colin, Brian, Doug Embleton and the Meynell father and son combo.

Beers on offer were Castle Rock Screech Owl, Crouch Vale Best Bitter, Springhead Roaring Meg and Libert, Saltaire Elderflower, Wentworth Oatmeal Stout, Batemans XB and the 9% Double IPA from the Alehouse Brewery.

(right) Tony tells it like it is while John nabs a scratching

I started on the Crouch Vale which was OK but a little dull - I moved onto the Screech Owl, another SIBA award winner which I've had before and was happy to have again. Despite being 5% it is very drinkable, almost sessionable.

I also got a half pint of the Alehouse IPA so we could all have a try - it was quite murky but tasted OK albeit it a little warm - a lot of hops but unfortunately too sweet for most of us.

Final beer for the lunchtime was the ever reliable Wentworth Stout - one of my favourite stouts and one of the few good things to come out of Rotherham - though it was annoying to have it served up in a jug instead of a proper glass.

We made it to the game just in time for kick-off but it wasn't long before we were regretting turning down Brian's suggestion that we stay in the pub - but then it's the same suggestion every weekend and we don't really give it the serious consideration it merits. One day we'll actually do it. On this performance it will be quite soon.

Three minutes gone and we're 1-0 down. And then it's 2-0 after half an hour - just like the opening day at Aldershot when we look like a team that doesn't know each other.

As the first-half mercifully draws to a close, I try and persuade the others to cut short our losses and go to the pub - there appears no way back from this judging by the lack of effort being shown out on the pitch.

To his credit, Colin stays loyal and suggests we stick it out but when the third goal is scored just before the hour is up they all come round to my way of thinking and we leave.

It's not like me to get up and leave early - normally it's only done to catch a train - but it was clear that the players were not interested so why should I?

(left) Brian tries to not look back in anger

We head off to our usual post-match pub - the Treaty of Commerce - and try and persuade the locals that we've left early as we're winning. They're not that daft.

I can't remember what beer I had but it was woeful and I hardly touched it.

I had plans to leave in good time to catch the train to Newark but I get a phone call from Chris - who is actually in the same pub but out of sight - that he's found some rail tickets in the away end and do I know who they belong to?

Yes, I did as I'd only handed them over to Martin Deans before kick-off! So I collect them from Chris and call Martin who was in the ground frantically searching for them (even searching the pitch for some reason!). By the time all this was sorted I'd missed my train to Newark.

Instead I got the next train an hour later in the company of Chris and Simon - we had to walk from Newark Castle station to Newark Northgate but happily for them we pass a supermarket so they could take on beer. More importantly it allowed me to get haddock, chips and scraps from the Appleton Gate fish bar, one of the best chippies on the League 2 circuit.

To add insult to injury the train was running 30 mins late which at least allowed Chris and Simon time to nip back to the chippy - they couldn't resist after seeing mine. Watch and learn from the master, boys!

Finally the train arrives - I leave the other two as I'm in first class today where thankfully it's nice and quiet and I can try and dwell on the good parts of the day...

Too Late/Frozen (reprise)

For once I'll spare you the intimate details of my breakfast and fast forward to my arrival in Lincoln - a pleasant jaunt through the snow-covered Lincolnshire landscape and the start of what promised to be a bright sunny day.

For once (again) we were ignoring the tried and tested, in this case former DAFTS Pub of the Year, the Golden Eagle, in order to try out somewhere new that recently popped up on our radar, the Green Dragon. It was about 10:45 when I got there but it was already open - why can't more pubs open at 10am?

The upstairs bar/dining area was the only bit open at that time but they had four Milestone beers available and I opted for the lightest, Hopelicious, just 3.8%. The name suggests lots of hoppy goodness but it was pretty average.

By the time I'd finished it, I was joined by John Bell and Brian Esley - and then by John and Bev Wilson and finally Colin Fletcher resplendent in his Table Soccer shirt (remembered not to use the Subbuteo word) . After a pint of Milestone's Loxley Ale, we were informed the Real Ale bar downstairs was now open and would we like to move down there? I think we were making their nice dining area look scruffy so we were happy to oblige.

The Real Ale bar does what is says on the tin - there were about 10 beers on tap, most of them quite new to me and there even some new ones for Colin. Our little group was completed the arrival of the father and son combo, Ray and Tony Waters - good timing.

The Green Dragon has it's own microbrewery, Cathedral Ales, so some of us opted for their one beer on offer, Golden Imp. A huge disappointment - at around 4.5% we expected some sort of taste but this was little stronger than water. Thankfully our tastebuds were rescued by a pint of Oakham's Gravity - a brewery that never lets you down.

As I nipped off the gents, my mobile rang and John took the call - it was Chris Stockdale informing us the game had been called off. I called him back - surely this was a joke - but he'd seen the players get their fish and chips and head off back home on the bus so not a joke - it was off. There was general disbelief which turned to amazement once the Lincoln fans in the pub got confirmation.

To break up the rest of the day and get a bit if fresh air, we walked a few hundred yards towards the station to a pub called Sippers - another newie for me. This had a couple of Hop Back beers (Crop Circle and Odyssey) plus Tetleys and Tom Wood's Bomber County. It looks slightly run-down but was very welcoming and we had a few decent pints there.

John, Bev and I decided to move to pastures new and we caught the train to Newark. Newark Castle to be precise which is not a station we've ever been to before. John and I were here a few seasons ago and we had a long wait for a train - ever resourceful we followed our noses and found a good pub and a cracking chippy and so we thought we'd drop in again.

The walk to the Fox and Crown was quite pleasant - through a side of Newark we'd not really seen before - and I opted for a pint of Castle Rock Screech Owl IPA - a lovely full flavoured beer! In the gents I bumped into Brad, one of the many London Millers who'd not been to the Don Valley Stadium that day - it's a small world.

Hunger pangs then got the better of us and we decided against another pint in favour of haddock and chips (and peas) from Appletongate Fish Bar. I wish I lived near this place - crisp golden chips, well-cooked fish, quick service - thankfully the southbound train we caught back to King's Cross was almost deserted and no one objected to the fishy smell.

As Liz was due into King's Cross about half an hour after me, I decided to wait in the Betjeman Arms which occupies a quite corner of the refurbished St Pancras station. I'm not sure what Sir John would have made of this place but it doesn't exude the class and erudition one associates with him.

The outside bar is not really designed for the cold winter months so I headed inside and settle onto a stool at the bar.

They have about three real ales on offer - their own Betjeman beer from Sharps, London Pride direct from a bar-top barrel and XXXB from Batemans. I had a pint of the latter - served in a dimple glass that I suppose the management think is quaint and old-fashioned but is just clunky - the XXXB is OK but not in brilliant condition, a bit on the jaded side.

This place is not the ideal environment for an old git like me but it's quiet and has a decent choice for a railway bar - a shame the ambience was spoilt by the burnt cooking smell coming from the open kitchen. Almost put me off my Indian takeway...