Lewes. Lovely little town, unless you have mobility issues. The Dripping Pan. Lovely little ground, unless you have mobility issues. The locals all very friendly on the outside but they're laughing on the inside, safe in the knowledge that the steps and hills will get you in the end.
The lucky ones made it to the clubhouse, only to be disappointed to find they had a bit of a Harveys festival going on, it was terrible. Then there were the pies from the teabar which had everybody yearning for one of those burgers of indeterminate origin available at most football grounds.
So the town got a tick, the ground got a tick, as did the natives, the Harveys and the pies. The game may even have merited a tick if it hadn't been instantly forgettable.
A trip to South Park was eschewed in favour of a splendid ribeye steak and Tring Brewery's Moongazing at the Prince George in Watford. A wise choice in more ways than one as it turned out.
Tomorrow it's a trip to the Pilot Field in Hastings, 950 years and a day after a certain battle. Transport links were better in the 11th century when you could simply sail into Pevensey Bay and ride hither and thither on horseback. Nowadays it's a train that travels through East Sussex in seemingly ever decreasing circles before limping into Hastings. Always good to visit the Old Town before heading to the Pilot Field and we aim to be in the Olde Pumphouse on George Street (a favourite of Diggler's for some reason) shortly after opening time at 11, no chance of a lie in then.
With a squad of 14 due to travel the smart money will be on our fine away run continuing a little longer but you never know (and because you never know you keep coming back to this tremendously annoying, complex yet simple game of football).
Keep it Green
Allez les Verts!!
