Like Chris Wood (the musical one) these two Martins never quite know when enough is enough in the introduction line. Eventually, enough is enough, especially when they are both such stunningly good guitarists. Excellent variety of numbers, from folky to world music to jazz to (almost) easy listening. I can’t help thinking that Martin Simpson has the harder edge – but that’s mostly because I know him too as a singer.
The Edinburgh Arms is quite friendly and cosy in an expansive sort of way, though it doesn’t really do half-pints. We explained that we’d been to 18 pubs already, and were due to visit 18 more. Out the back and 20 yards to the Sea Horse, a Sam Smith’s pub with the usual restricted choice, though the layout is nice, with separate rooms and well laid out and comfortable seating. But the star of the evening was the recently re-opened Phoenix. Three decent beers, a friendly welcome, an open fire, and a decor which invited you to just sink in and enjoy (though no cushions or soft furnishings in sight). And that was just the front bar. They also do a wine list and a small selection of single malt whiskeys. Vaut le detour.
Train to Darlington through extremely wet countryside – the Ouse at York well over the Ings and the riverside footpaths and every stream and small river north wards full to overflowing. At times the train on its embankment was crossing lakes, from which at intervals sprouted the tops of fences, or trees, or a half-submerged shed. Bus from Darlington to Richmond – confusingly altered to pass Darlington station in the reverse direction (where there is no bus shelter). At Richmond a quick change to a local bus through dripping countryside and flooded lanes to Ravensworth, a village set round a large green with at the top a magnificently ruined and jagged castle. No shop, and the pub not open yet (still only 11.30) so off up the 1 in 4 road masquerading as a stream bed to Kirby Hill. True to its name, there was a large parish church in a very commanding position atop a ridge, overlooking a magnificent series of hills and valleys to the North. Behind the Church cluster cottages and farms round a small green, off the through road. More of this in a subsequent blog, I hope. A fine pub, but also closed because it was Monday. A quick sally on the faithful Brompton to the villages on either side showed picturesque wetness, more stream/roads and one other closed pub. Must come back when it’s not Monday. And so back to Richmond – the ford I’d been warned about now thankfully only an inch or two deep. Richmond seemed to have at least one excellent butcher, at which I bought an excellent haggis.
The rain, which had mostly kept off all day, fell heavily on the b us to Darlington, but that was OK.
Apart from the fact that the patter to songs ratio is too heavily weighted onto the patter, what a superb entertainer ! Humorous songs and deadly serious ones – like the one about the shooting of Jean Charles de Menezes which makes the stalkers sound like gangsters from the start.. Liked his description of the then Mrs Thatcher as a “vicious old spiv.” The band, this time, included a cellist, a trombone player, and a drummer. Nice sound – including the trombone as a Spitfire.