15th October 2017
Sometime after dark, down beyond the last crossing of a sandy back road in Suffolk, past the third turning and over a small green, is a pub with the finest Thursday night folk scene that you might never have been to. It’s a cacophony of the good, the bad, and the dreary, all packed into a too-small space with stout poured all over it for good measure. It’s where you’d have found me and a friend of mine on Thursday, wondering, about this time of year, if they might have some olde ale on the pumps.
Slip some socks onto your sandals and come along. Continue reading “A Blog in a Folk-Hole”