A Night With Rodger

We parkrun at Markeaton this morning as I promised a friend of mine that we’d be there to witness his first even parkrun. He doesn’t show up.

We have a leisurely post-run coffee and bacon roll as L as no pilates today due to it allegedly still being Christmas but it’s not too leisurely as we need to fit in a late lie-in before I head off to the match this afternoon. Which turns out to be a disappointing 0-0 draw.

Then it’s a question of deciding what to do tonight and finding somewhere that doesn’t need a ticket to get in to. In the end we head off to the Horse and Jockey at Stapleford where get to rub shoulders with various Rock stars - Freddie Mercury, Meat Loaf, Axl Rose (at least we think it was him), Madonna (possibly) etc.

The dark beer range is rather impressive with Aurora Big Dark nicely strong at 5.3% and to water that down Burton Bridge XL Mild. Then I spot something nestling discretely at the end of the bar, it’s Marston's Owd Rodger. I add it to my trail although I'm not sure if it technically is a 'dark' ale but as it’s around 25 years since I've seen this in a bar on hand pump I'm including it. It takes me back to my student days when we always used to have two pints of the 7.4% Owd Rodger in the Ye Olde Trip To Jerusalem before heading off to a gig at Rock City.

At around 11pm we get a bus home, yes Trent Barton are running a few, and get back in time to spend New Year with the boys along with Jools’ Hootenanny of course.

(Saturday 31^st December)

Owner Shaming

We drive down to Heathrow and take a mid afternoon flight to Budapest. It’s with British Airways now necessarily by choice but due to the discount we got after the lost skis debacle in back March in Toulouse.

After the two and a half hour flight another lifetime ambition is realised. I've always sort of wanted a chauffeur standing at arrivals holding a board with my name on it. Today it happens because we have booked a taxi transfer to the Hotel. Which was rather good value as it happens. The service works well and the chap will be there to pick us up again on Monday.

Our hotel is on Heroes Square, where apparently Madonna warbled her way through Evita while pretending she was in Buenos Aries, close to the City Park where the race start is tomorrow. So after settling in, we attempt to find the race village and stumble across a rap concert in the City Park instead. Unless it's a very lively pre-race pasta party.

We hydrate with a beer or three from a street stall. It’s very nice and surprisingly dark too. It washed down the kebab and strudel we have with it. Hardly your typical pre-race food but then this isn't your typical race.

As we sup our beer the dog sitter (Daughter) starts sending us ‘dog shaming’ photos only it’s us who are being shamed for leaving them. Actually MD looks like he’s pleading with us to come home and rescue him.

(Saturday 7^th September)