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Friday and Saturday yielded two more little runs in the Orienteering Challenge (most recent prior entry, here).  The first one involved a trip to the mega-Sainsbury’s in Even Swindon and began near the Outlet Centre where I eventually hunted down the marker quite distant from the location the organisers’ map indicated:

The plan was to loop over to my old neighbourhood and pick up two more on the way to stock up on wine, liquor and artichoke hearts for the weekend, but the #6 marker was missing, victim to new lamp posts and other construction removals (fences, etc) at the intersection of the Western Flyer path and the National Bike Path #45.  Still, once laden with 4 cans of chokes, 1.5 litres of vodka, and 3 each of wine (a box) and tonic I made my way home via Wootton Bassett Road to pick up a third marker for the trip.

  

Saturday, the holy war continued and I took a trot to Purton with a side trip into the parkland just north of the Link Centre.  The exit from this section put me in the Lydiard Park and Manor grounds in which I always get lost.

  

So, the score sheet now stands at:

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The Swindon Rounds Orienteering Challenge is trundling along and forcing my runs into some territory I haven’t trod in a while (click on above map for link to full gmap of the project).

The theme today seemed to be the ghosts of old control markers, Hiroshima shadows of which were found on 3 out of the four marker sites (above at the bicycle flyover on the Oxford side of the A420/A419 roundabout).

Swindon is fairly urban but there are only a few neighbourhoods that are dodgy enough to give berth to, and then mostly only late at night.  You are reminded of this as you skirt such a buurt through a narrow tunnel of foliage looking for a clue in a children’s game.

On the other hand, everyone in these areas seemed really nice.  Some kids said, ‘hiya,’ in a friendly way as I passed, another couple of old dudes stopped their conversation to nod and smile, and a geezer urinating in the bushes gave me a thumbs-up as I passed (I hope that was a thumb).

So, for those of you playing along at home, here’s the dance card as it stands on 16 May 2013.  Once finished, I’ll expect a large number of you to send in for your prize (let me know if you do and I’ll post the ones from farthest afield).

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Board here for the Magical Mystery Tour:

 

[In honour of Albert Hofmann, a couple of days after the fifth anniversary of his transcendance (January 11, 1906 – April 29, 2008)]

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When the youths from the Marlborough College are packed on the bus and you are trying pass through the aisle with a flimsy shopping sack full of wine, vodka, and tonic you might have a sudden epiphany about the origin of William Golding’s Lord of the Flies whilst popping one of these privileged shits in the chest with an off-balance and accidental (we’ll go with that) elbow and dragging the bottle filled bag at skull level past three others until the rest duck-and-cover.  Earlier, on my way to the Queen’s Head, I passed Golding’s former digs next to the Church, so maybe that’s what brought on these literary thoughts….

The contrast between the gaggle of students and the friendly–if a bit surreal–patrons of the Queen’s Head was striking.  As a stranger negotiating the several small rooms to reach the back side of the public bar took a moment; it is a fairly old house but I am reckoning Edwardian or late Victorian despite the sturdy and ancient looking beams.; I’m sure the landlord will correct me as he seems as much an authority on any topic as he is authoritative and benignly autocratic…or the guy I’m assuming was the gov may have just been another punter.

I gave the pump clips a squint and decided on a Directors which made the three younger men at the bar burst into laughter as if they had been sitting on this merriment for minutes and could no longer hold it in.  ”What’s that then?” the one next to Maybe-The-Gaffer asked.  ”Courage,” he answered. “It’s a good strong ale.” They all laughed again.  ”Courage? What’s that?”  ”It’s a brewery.” ”There is a Courage Brewery down near my house. But, what’s that?” Another ejaculation of laughter…I concluded these boys were tripping and sat back for what turned into an Abbott and Costello (or maybe more like Abbott and the Three Stooges) bit.

Horse racing features in the room to the left with some great photos of jockeys being dismounted mid jump, and boxing is highlighted to the right but the room seems more a shrine to the career of Muhammed Ali.

This is my new favourite pub in Marlborough (although the Bear and the Dragon are a little easier to get to on a tourist trip).

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 19th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

Floating with a couple of beers and on a tight schedule for the bus, I dashed from the Golden Farm back to the Best Kebab, which was near the Bee’s Knees from whence this journey commenced. I’m not sure if it really is the best in Cirencester although it may be the only kebab place here.

The sizes were small, medium, and large so I got the small which would have fed two hungry adults or served as a snack to six. My ears still ring with parental admonitions to eat every bite before me though so guilt gluttony kicked in and I shovelled it all down. Not that this was a chore as it was quite tasty, too; I would easily have finished a medium and probably would have picked at the remains of a large if not hospitalised with a distended stomach from the effort. The lettuce and cabbage were crispy and crunchy, and the tomatoes burst forth with flavour despite the spicy and heavily garlicked chilli sauce. Addictive.

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An early afternoon trot around Cirencester is always a welcome thing, especially when you get dropped off nearly in front of a pub as welcoming as the Bee’s Knees.  Traditional architecture and hospitality but with a healthy dose of modern “sport bar” fixtures — there was sumo wrestling on tele! — combined for a good first impression.  I got an Arkell 3B and headed out to the smoking garden (since the other few early customers were all out there hacking up lungs).

The best thing of all, as I left for the start of the run there were blobs of flour at the door from which I inferred that a Hash House Harriers trail had been laid there recently; with any luck, it would lead me to another pub…which, eventually it did.

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When it turned up in the local newspaper, I recognised the alley as one of my regular cut-throughs on runs in the neighbourhood.  Later that same day it turned up on the BBC nightly News so the next morning I decided to go back for my own document of the boondoggle.

Double yellow lines limit parking from the center of the street to the kerb (curb) on the side of the street they are painted; you can stop to load/unload but otherwise the space must be left clear for emergency vehicles.  So, when a fire engine needs to get through the area above…see what everyone is on about?

My own photo really adds nothing to the debate and only serves to show that I need a few more sit-ups and lot less alcohol on a weekly basis (the gut alone would block an ambulance’s passage).  Here’s the same photo with two vehicles illegally parked, scaled to the alleyway’s dimensions:

Everyone wants a picture of this alley, now.  While there setting up my own camera two different citizens with SLRs popped up at the wide end and another at the narrow bit.  I posed with my arms partly stretched to the walls for one of the photographers.

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While not a big fan of comic books*, I have really enjoyed the TV version of The Walking Dead although most of the pleasure comes from its setting (and location shooting) in the hinterlands where I spent the bulk of my youth between Griffin, Newnan, and Atlanta, Georgia. I can assure you that there have always been savage, unthinking monsters threatening the safety of the general public there and the depictions are as much horror show as they are like a family reunion. Very pleasant except for the occasional moments of terror.

So, the publication of Black Charity, a “graphic novel” [comic book] set in Swindon (my new home town) is greeted with some measure of excitement. I haven’t read it, but probably shall do. Thumbing through to find the drawings of dungeon scenes at the dominatrix’ flat some local landmarks featured in this blog have sprung to light including my local just down the Western Street hill, the Beehive, and another pub over in Wanborough, the Harrow.

Black Charity by Bal Speer, an art lecturer at the local college, is available at your local book store (don’t give those fuckers at Amazon any money).

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*As a kid, I tried to read comics but couldn’t really buy the story lines and generally stuck with the satirical periodicals. Mad Magazine got me through my early years although I had to have most of the superhero references explained to me. As I grew, I moved on to National Lampoon and then, in my teens made the leap to adult satire by reading the New York Times. Now I get most of my news and humour from the fortnightly delivery of Private Eye.

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Spring in England is usually glorious, coming convulsively starting at the end of February until it collapses in a sweaty mess close to the end of June. MOST years. This year the continuous cold and endless precipitation have pushed the start back. Some hearty fruit varieties blossomed a couple of weeks ago, but this year even the blackthorn (usually a riot of insect activity in early March) has yet to pop. Riding for miles every day past the bare limbs of so many trees has me at the breaking point.

But, walking past you can see the leaf and flower buds are ready to go. This is the second day in a row over 10° C (50° F), and we may see 16° C (61° F) on the weekend). I fully expect to go into work via a winter landscape and return through a forest, any day now.

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I noticed them before we moved house in January, the thick flocks of birds flying their synchronized and psychedelic patterns in the dusk sky.  I thought it was neat, but apparently it is also unusual for it to last so long or with such large aggregations of birds.  The Beeb (and other news distributors) have taken notice and their stories are worth a look for photos of the beautiful aerobatic patterns.  I noticed patterns, too, on my way to the butcher:

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 15th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

 

The photoshopped text is an old, Beavis and Butthead style bit of silliness I do every time I see this dealership but can’t help myself (very immature).  The kebab was picked up at Caner’s Kebab stand down a road resembling an auto salvage yard just behind Dick Lovett and was quite a find.

I am nursing an inflamed iliotibial (IT) band and off running for a week or two and decided to find a few trails on my other project, covering Every Trail in Old Town when I spotted this little treasure…friendly staff, cheap, and some of the tastiest döner yet.  It especially benefits from getting thrown on a hot griddle from the steam table thus carbonizing a portion of the sliced meat.  I would score it down for the appearance of the chilli sauce but it was actually fantastic.  Love it.

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It continued to rain as I left the canal path but the sun came out and a few moments later I stood at the edge of the Pelican car park, damp and yet curiously dry mouthed.  Inside, I was the first customer for the friendly barmaid who frowned when I chose the Banker’s Draft (my accent threw her).

It is a big, modern pub and the character is kind of minimal which serves as a warning about ill-advised refurbishment (this is a 350 year old inn, but you would guess it was built in the early 1970s).  Still, they have good beverages and the food gets great reviews.

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The plan was to catch the bus to Hungerford and jog the canal path to Kintbury, grab a pint and head back.  As is typical, the run started off wrong and got worse but, all tolled, was not an especially bad day out.

I thought we approached Hungerford from the south and so turned right onto the path which was a soupy and slick nightmare.  With no traction, it took two to three times the number of steps to cover the distance and there was always a reasonable chance of falling into the canal.

At the road to Froxfield, I checked my map and realised I was near the Pelican and decided it would have to do as a turnaround point.  Not relishing the return mud bath I went over some hilly trails to get to a single track road that, this time, actually did approach Hungerford from the south.

Hungerford is pretty.  Here’s the town hall and some detail:

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From the King’s Arms in All Cannings to the New Inn in Coate is just about 2.5 miles except when the trails aren’t marked, it’s overcast (so dead reckoning is a bit tough), there are two hills on the map but you only see one, and you have left your compass somewhere.  Etchilhampton wasn’t so pleasant as to merit doubling the length of this leg of the journey but I’m really glad I didn’t opt to go straight into Devizes once I realised my error.

I had a Corvus Stout, brewed by Wadworth, although the oaken gravity-fed barrels were tempting.  The bartender was quite friendly and she and several of the punters showed a genuine (not just polite) interest in the day’s journey.  They all love the Barge and were pushing the music weekends when you are welcome to camp in the field adjacent.

When I pointed out that we never really tried that last year because the hike from Pewsey in the unstable weather with camping gear wasn’t too attractive they pointed me toward a Vale of Pewsey bus service that you have to call and book (so your journey depends on who booked before and after you on the varying but generally circular route).

Apparently this bus service is also a sort of freak show, as well, with all sorts of potty personages (my comment that “we just call them ‘British’ in the rest of the world” didn’t meet with disapproval); one I especially want to ride with shouts, “wheeeeeeee,” on bridges and curves.

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Already sore from runs yesterday and cold in my minimal running kit on this run, I struggled along from the Barge Inn toward All Cannings doing the 2.5 miles between the door and the King’s Arms in a slow 22 minutes (including a stop to pee).  The ice on the canal persisted in the face of the warm stream and the trail was muddier than the previous section but the landscape and tailing breeze were distractions and helpful, respectively.

The King’s Arms has signs around town but always two or three turns away from the location on Pub Lane.  It was packed with lunchers and people awaiting seating, but I was served my pint of Wadworth Horizon quickly and joined some folks back in the cramped snooker snug adjacent to the bar.

There was great pub and inn memorabilia all over the place and if I ever read that it is closing down (unlikely with the trade they were doing) I am coming out with a crowbar and breaking in for this piece:

The next leg of the run took me away from the canals and I got a look at a farm or refuge behind the pub on my way out to the bridleway–ostriches, how bizarre out here.

Next stop was to be Coate and the New Inn but there would be trouble with my route….

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I did a Sunday mid-day run down the Kennet and Avon Canal Path and then overland to Devizes from Pewsey with a number of pubs in my sights.  The first leg, from the bus stop north of Pewsey out to Honeystreet and the Barge Inn are shown here with an early section showing the iced over waters that kept me company most of the way:

The music for the run was Sixto Rodriguez, the subject of the Oscar-winning documentary ‘Searching for Sugar Man‘ which we saw the opening night of the Swindon Film Fest.  This is some fantastic stuff but I have to wonder if I would feel as strongly about it without the detail in the film.  The albums, Cold Fact (1970) and Coming from Reality (1971), have aged especially well despite a bit of overproduction; you hear bits of Leonard Cohen, Dylan, and Simon and Garfunkel in some cuts but the lyrics are definitely specific to the composer and his location.  The movie was as much a revelation about him as it was about the liberal-leaning white population of Apartheid era South Africa and the police state in which the bootlegged copies of these (unknown in the States) albums became some of the most important musical benchmarks of the time.

But, musical benchmarks are everywhere I remembered as the Barge Inn loomed.  Rodriguez faded as soon as I removed the earphones and was replaced in my head with my own very poor rendition of Wild Thing on the ukulele (which I have been working out, unsuccessfully since Reg Presley, lead singer of the Troggs passed away last month…Reg is quoted as saying this was his favourite pub).

Mine as well (and the barkeeper and most of the patrons at the New Inn in Coate, which I visited later in the day agree).  I sat beneath what is essentially the Sistine Chapel Roof of crop circles and there is a hippie vibe but one that emanates from the sort of hippies that use soap and frequent booksellers–perhaps more like beatniks than flower power proponents.  Next to my seat was a large African tom-tom and nearby was a tempting acoustic guitar (but neither I nor any of the dozen or so drinkers here at 8 minutes past noon had taken in enough alcohol for that).

I had a Croppie from Honeystreet Brewery which I highly recommend for a long run (abv just over 4%).  While finishing the brew I peaked out my window to see another of the Wiltshire White Horses to tick off my checklist; a moment later, I was back out on the canal path heading toward the King’s Arms in All Cannings (with Sixto back in full howl).

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[Originally, this project was described here,  and you can see the most recent prior Update (1) here.]

I’m glad I extended the natural bounds of Old Town to include everything the estate agents like to market thus, if for no other reason than the legitimate bounds are so small and this gives me a bit more connectivity to the greater region.  However, I did choose some butt-ugly territory when I was drawing the initial border.  Oh, well…shall we carry on?

 

It was cold but calm and clear and birds were singing–more spring than winter–so I didn’t linger over the coffee and Sunday Observer too long and got out into the fresh air.  The Radnor Street Cemetery has an entrance on my side of Eastcott and since it serves both as a formal Victorian burial ground AND as a nature preserve it is always a nice crossing but especially in the mid-winter morning light.  Photos of the RSC next time (or, there are very nice ones at Swindon in the Past Lane), but I was keen to clear some of the bounds from the map today and continued on to the rail bridge that divides north and south Swindon then around to the rail trail that used to connect Old Town Station (and then Marlborough to Salisbury) with Swindon.  The final few turns were just ‘zenning’ the trail and I found a quick connection to Bath Road from the house via King William Street (at Eastcott Hill near the Moose Lodge).

Though still winter, the days are getting longer at a noticeable clip and I slipped into my sweats while on the bus and ran from the tented market up Commercial Street with the sun setting behind me.  I stopped by the house to drop off my backpack and continued out to the Town Gardens which I found was already closed (winter hours).

  

At the end of Quarry there’s an alleyway with a great mural on it but the alleyway is barely wide enough for two people to squeeze past one another and the mural is mostly dark colours so I couldn’t manage a decent picture of it on this trip, but there were loads of decent graffiti around including this shiny bit under the Devizes Road bridge over the rail trail next to where I discarded yet another race/hash shirt combo:

The climb up Mill Road/Westlecot was steeper than I was really prepared for and I took it a bit fast.  Reaching The Mall, I opted for the flat route past the Commonweal School then a few alleyways and South Street (where one of the Victorian cottages at the Prospect Hill end has a cool bit of signage out back):

Although not a run because I was laden with 6 bottles of wine (from Tesco, not the now-residential Eastcott Hill Wine Store) and other groceries, I explored a bit of the alleyway archipelago.

  

The route was meant to (and did) take me past the Swindon Cycle Working Men’s Club which is still CIU affiliated but not so much a men’s club or having anything to do with cycling.  I read they are looking for new members and as I have moved away from Ferndale WMC (and let my membership lapse and I think it has shut down anyway) and it is pretty close to the house.  On the way I spotted this wall in an alleyway (nice the way the door is surrounded by the art) and these neat roof ornaments on Dryden:

Hopped off the bus just after the Magic Roundabout and did a bit of a neat neighbourhood I’ve never explored before and finally entered the mapping zone at the Queen’s Park which is sort of a gigantic arboretum and really holds some promise for spring and summer visits:

  

On exiting, I realised where I was when I spotted the back of the Jewel in the Crown, but the Holy Rood School was a bit of a surprise.

The Friday run this week took in a bit of Marlborough Road corridor including the area around Intel, the Marriott, a giant wooded park to the south, and the Croft Sport Centre.  I also spotted these two houses…the one on the left was the one we were driving out to see if we wanted to rent it just over two years ago but were crashed into by a large Mercedes van.  The one on the right was the first one we inspected for this most recent move but the stairwell was too narrow for any of the shit we would have wanted to put upstairs (and the landlord would accept the kitty as a cohabitant).

  

More next week….

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Jackie worked this weekend leaving me to my own devices so I hopped the 49 at ten and popped off to Devizes. I got a run in yesterday and still suffer body aches from the move and refurbishments so this was just to grab a couple of pints and head back up to do more work on the house.

The first stop was the Silk Mercer, a Wetherspoons in a Grade 2 listed 18th century building that used to house the ‘John James Fox & Sons Linen and Woollen Drapers and Silk Mercers’. Spoilt for choice on the beer front, I settled on a Box Steam Brewery Dark and Handsome, chocolatey and thick and a good breakfast choice.

(Note: noticed on exiting that it is listed in the Good Beer Guide 2013, as well.)

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So, four years now (or, rather, next week it will be…here’s the annual reports for years Three, Two, and One for historical perspective).

We just received our new visas valid until 2016 but plan to take the next step toward citizenship in a year, Indefinite Leave to Remain…sort of the British Green Card.  There is an exam, first, but in general it is all downhill from here.

The view from Western Street near the new house…also all downhill

Additionally, we are in the process of moving house (which is why I rushed the annual report a week forward) from just north of the Oasis over to Old Town to a house situated close walks to either the Beehive or the Castle or the Globe (recently reopened!)—three locals instead of one and all three of high quality—and dozens of others a short walk. The new house has three bedrooms each larger than its counterpart in the old house, the two receptions are larger and made into more of an open-plan configuration, the bath is larger and has a tub (not just a shower), and there is a finished basement; on the down side, the kitchen is a little narrower and more primitive as is the small garden but everything we do and everywhere we normally go in Swindon (save for the butcher) is so close.

The only races I did this past year were the London Marathon (5 pubs plus a can of Carling on the last mile) and the Beerathon (5 miles with a pint and a hefty food item between each) and the mileage run for the year suffered from this lack of focus—1950 give or take about 25 (most estimates pretty good using gmap-pedometer), while the last several years (except for the year of the wreck) were in the 2200-2500 range.

On the runs, I visited  255 new pubs with a stunning 67 new ones (steep part of the graph) in September when I took two weeks off work and ran at least 10 miles per day in new territory each day. The 1000th wasn’t as big a thrill as I thought it would be, but I saw some really nice places and met some really fine folk. The September holiday found me visiting Gloucester, South Wales, Slough (exotic, I know) and Exeter along with some nearer-to-Swindon trips. The 100 Yellow Beer Challenge was responsible for a lot of second visits to pubs I might not otherwise have gone to after an initial stop and many of these seemed better the second time around. Oh, and my Workingman’s Club appears to have failed or at least hasn’t been open the last several times I’ve popped by (I have a grand one scoped out for the new neighbourhood, though).

Best pubs in Year Four (reverse order by First Visit write-up):
The Southgate Inn, Devizes
Byron’s, Swindon
The Hop Inn, Swindon
Dicey Reilly’s, Teignmouth
The Brass Monkey, Teignmouth
One Eyed Jack’s, Gloucester
Ye Olde Red Lion, Tredegar
The Rose of Denmark, Woolwich
The Volunteer Rifleman’s Arms
The Green Dragon, Marlborough
The British Lion, Devizes
The Blue Boar, Alsbourne (for the Dr. Who connections)

Favourite write-ups:
Postboxes
British Citizenship Exam Prep
Risk Assessment-Bins
Oxford Tourists
Assize Court, Bristol

Cock Flavour
Paul Simon in Hyde Park
Edie’s Lawn
The hunt
The Bremen Musicians (German children’s story)
Sex Tourism in Wiltshire
Modern Algebra for Omid
Burns’ Day Lunch

There are others search for ‘made me laugh.’  The blog may or may not have made some of the over 100,000 visitors laugh, but the damn fools keep checking in (that’s you, that is).

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The previous post was better, but I wanted to showcase the screensavers pieced together by Squeezin’ (with my gratitude for these).  The pics, in order, are

Venue	Where	beer #
The Princess Hotel (done around 5 am New Year’s Day)	Swindon	1
The Bank House	Cheltenham	2
At the New Year’s Races in Cheltenham (watching my nag drag in)	Cheltenham	3
Midlands Hotel	Cheltenham	4
The Queen’s Tap	Swindon	5
The Four Candles	Oxford	6
The Turf Tavern (at the sign commemorating Clinton failing to inhale there)	Oxford	7
The White Horse	Oxford	8
O’Neill’s	Oxford	9
Ellington’s	Swindon	10
The Red Lion	Oxford	11
The Gloucester Arms	Oxford	12
Eurobar	Oxford	13
The Volunteer	Faringdon	14
The Red Lion	Faringdon	15
The Bell	Faringdon	16
The Lamb and Flag	Oxford	17
The Bird and Baby	Oxford	18
Far  The Madding Crowd	Oxford	19
Southbrook Inn	Swindon	20
The White Hart	Wolvercote, Oxfordshire	21
The Red Lion	Wolvercote, Oxfordshire	22
The Plough	Oxford	23
The Gardener’s Arms	Oxford	24
The Rose and Crown	Oxford	25
TP’s	Swindon	26
The De’s Cut	Oxford	27
The King and Queen	Longcot, Oxfordshire	28
The Woodman Inn	Fernham, Oxfordshire	29
The Eagle	Little Cocks Swell, Oxfordshire	30
The Wheatsheaf	Faringdon, Oxfordshire	31
Faringdon Folly	Faringdon, Oxfordshire	32
Salisbury Cathedral	Salisbury	33
The King’s Arms	Salisbury	34
The Old Castle Pub	Salisbury	35
The keep at Old Sarum	Salisbury	36
Wheatsheaf	Lower Woodford, Wiltshire	37
Bridge Inn	Upper Woodford, Wiltshire	38
Black Horse	Great Durnford, Wiltshire	39
Wilsford Cum Lake sign (heh, heh)	Wiltshire	40
Stonehenge (really a great disappointment)	Wiltshire	41
King’s Arms	Amesbury, Wiltshire	42
George Hotel	Amesbury, Wiltshire	43
New Inn	Amesbury, Wiltshire	44
The Greyhound	Amesbury, Wiltshire	45
Royal Oak	Oxford	46
The Red Lion	Marston, Oxfordshire	47
The Angel and Greyhound	Oxford	48
The University Club	Oxford	49
The GW Hotel	Swindon	50
Jude the Obscure	Oxford	51
The Victoria	Oxford	52
The Rickety Press	Oxford	53
Wahoo Sport Bar	Oxford	54
The Oxford Retreat	Oxford	55
The Grapes	Oxford	56
The Rolleston	Swindon	57
The Baker’s Arms	Swindon	58
The Dolphin	Swindon	59
Marsh Farm Hotel	Royal Wootton Bassett	60
The Cross Keys	Royal Wootton Bassett	61
The Old School	Oxford	62
The King’s Arms	Oxford	63
The Swan and Castle	Oxford	64
The Victoria Arms	Marston, Oxfordshire	65
The Black Swan	Abingdon, Oxfordshire	66
The Blue Boar	Abingdon, Oxfordshire	67
The Bowyer Arms	Radley, Oxfordshire	68
Zen Bar	Swindon	69
Sir Daniel Arms	Swindon	70
White Hart	Lyneham, Wiltshire	71
Sodom	Wiltshire	72
The Angel	Royal Wootton Bassett, Wiltshire	73
Cape of Good Hope	Oxford	74
Rudi’s	Swindon	75
Burn’s Day Lunch (Haggis, Neeps, Tatties, Whisky, and 2 beers)	Oxford	76
Swindon Wildcats 3, Sheffield Steeldogs 4 (SO)	Swindon	77
The Longwall	Oxford	78
The Royal George	Purton, Wiltshire	79
Riff’s Bar	Greatfield, Wiltshire	80
Magic Roundabout	Swindon	81
The Three Tuns	Wroughton	82
The Havana	Swindon	83
The Lydiard	Swindon	84
The Savoy	Swindon	85
The Brewer’s Arms	Cirencester	86
The White Horse	Woolstone	87
The College Farm	Watchfield	88
The Horse and Jockey	Ashton Keynes, Gloucestershire	89
The Vale Hotel	Cricklade	90
Goldfinger Tavern	Highworth, Wiltshire	91
The Red Lion	Northmoor, Oxfordshire	92
The Bell Inn	Standlake, Oxfordshire	93
The Maybush	Newbridge, Oxfordshire	94
The Beehive (this is about 100 yards from the house we are moving to)	Swindon	95
Baker Street	Swindon	96
Steam Railway Company Pub	Swindon	97
The Pig on the Hill	Swindon	98
Long’s Bar	Swindon	99
near Parliament, with a Cuban cigar and a bunch of dirty looks (and after 5 pub stops)	London Marathon	100
The Bear	Oxford	101
The Old Tom	Oxford	102
The Crown	Oxford	103
The Beehive	Carterton, Oxfordshire	104
The Crown Inn	Faringdon, Oxfordshire	105
Romany Inn	Bampton, Oxfordshire	106
Talbot Hotel	Bampton, Oxfordshire	107
The George Inn	Sandy Lane, Wiltshire	108
The White Hart	Calne, Wiltshire	109
The now defunct King George	Calne, Wiltshire	110
Barrington Arms	Shrivenham, Oxfordshire	111
Groves Company Inn	Swindon	112
Revolution	Swindon	113
The Plough	Sutton Courtenay, Oxfordshire	114
The George and Dragon	Sutton Courtenay, Oxfordshire	115
The Fish	Sutton Courtenay, Oxfordshire	116
Great Western Railway Staff Association	Didcot, Oxfordshire	117
The Prince of Wales	Didcot, Oxfordshire	118
Tap and Barrel (good read goes along with this pic)	Swindon	119
Old Town Festival	Swindon Town Gardens	120
Cock Inn	Combe, Oxfordshire	121
Three Horseshoes	Long Hanborough, Oxfordshire	122
Swindon Pride 2012	Swindon (duh)	123
Wernham Hogg’s	Slough, Berkshire	124
The Myrtle Grove	Risca, Gwent, Wales	125
The Sirhowy	Blackwood, Gwent, Wales	126
Railway Tavern	Sirhowy, Blaenau Gwent, Wales	127
The Castle	Bryn Serth, Blaenau Gwent, Wales	128
The Coach and Horses	Ashvale, Blaenau Gwent, Wales	129
Ye Olde Red Lion Hotel	Tredegar, Blaenau Gwent, Wales	130
The Tumble Inn	Pontypridd, Wales	131
The Maltster’s Arms	Pontypridd, Wales	132
Wyvern Theatre	Swindon	133
Byron’s Bar	Swindon	134
The Bear Hotel	Wantage, Oxfordshire	135
Source ot the River Thames	Kemble, Gloucestershire	136
Carpenter’s Arms	Lacock, Wiltshire	137
Mill House	Chippenham, Wiltshire	138
Sunny’s Pool Bar	Swindon	139
The Royal Oak	Marlborough, Wiltshire	140
The Lamb Inn	Marlborough, Wiltshire	141
The Crown	Marlborough, Wiltshire	142
IMS/TOF Mass Spectrometer	Oxford University	143
New Year’s Eve on Ferndale Road	Swindon	144