The Joiners Arms, Newton-on-the-Sea, Northumberland. No apostrophe. This describes itself as a 'gastro pub', a self-delineation that I sometimes think can be a hostage to fortune. No such worries here. The food is superb. Chicken in a mushroom sauce for the Groupie, and a hearty fishfinger stotty with chips and a bowl of five bean soup for BFP. The Pig washed this down with a pint of Black Sheep Bitter.
You may gather from this information that Groupie and the Pig are on tour, staying in a suitably luxurious apartment in Beadnell. We were supposed to be in this glorious corner of England to celebrate the Pig's sixtieth two years ago, but Covid put paid to that. Now we are here and the Groupie had her own significant birthday yesterday. I won't get all soppy on you but it has to be said that it is the highest of honours that she passes her life with me. Many Happy Returns Gorgeous.
Before our lunch we had walked along Bamburgh's magnificent beach and in the evening we had a further celebratory drink in Beadnell's Craster Inn, a walk of fully fifty yards from the apartment. They were serving some gargantuan looking portions of fish and chips but we will save that treat for another day. The Pig confined himself to a pint of Beadnell Blonde. Life's been good to me so far.
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