Libertines

The night began with a trio of support acts comprised of bands from Peter Doherty’s own label Strap Originals. It is a very tight schedule with short five-minute changeover periods between the artists which isn’t helped by the doors opening quite late at 7pm and the first band due on at 7:20pm.  

First up are Nottingham’s Vona Vella, who are Izzy Davis and Dan Cunningham, a pair of harmonious singer songwriters who turn up as four piece tonight. They trade vocals over lively guitar driven melodies with a mishmash of styles but are generally mellow and summary, very Lloyd Cole, and highly likable. They come over as a group of mates having a great time. They’re possibly too nice and I’m not sure where they take this act from here. 

Up next are Real Farmer, a band from Groningen in the Netherlands. Their lead singer walks on stage, promptly throws away his mic stand, jumps in the air a few times and spits. Ugh. Then he starts pacing up and down. This is just his warm-up I think. Then...  It’s Play Dead! Or Killing Joke maybe. This is more my thing, spitting apart.

Finally, we have Reverend and the Makers guitarist Ed Cosens who gets a few songs in while the roadies are busy resetting the stage behind him for the Libertines. He’s missed his first assigned slot and now he gets to play a mere three acoustic numbers while fighting a battle against a now restless crowd.

Then… just as we’re expecting the main event to start rather than the whole band, we get just the one Libertine as Pete Doherty strolls on to the stage alone and introduces a poet he allegedly found on Upper Parliament Street while walking his dog last night. I think it’s fair to say that said poet goes down a bit mixed.

Fifteen minutes later Doherty is back, now in his raincoat but this time with the rest of the band. Then things really took off ‘Up The Bracket’ style as they opened with a classic that is now amazingly 22 years old.

Doherty spends most of the night loitering to one side as Carl Barat, kitted out in a trilby hat and blazer, commands things from centre stage. Everyone took a turn up front though with both drummer Gary Powell and Barat taking turns on the piano and bassist John Hassall taking a turn on vocals. 

 

The set was a mix of the classics and the brand new with plenty played from their new album ‘All Quiet On The Eastern Esplanade’ in a night that was riotous but retrained too. These days you are assured that the Libertines will not only turn up to play but they'll be on time and they’ll play through to the night’s conclusion rather than being prone to curtailing things at any moment.

After an eighteen song set that finished with ‘Can’t Stand Me Now’ the band returned for a long encore of a further seven songs that Doherty even took his coat off for. This included ‘Gunga Din’, which was one of only two included from their third album 2015’s ‘Anthems for Doomed Youth’, ‘Time For Heroes’ from album one and to round things off standalone single ‘Don’t Look Back Into The Sun’.

(Monday 21^st October)

A Neglected Childhood

L is in work on Monday so again misses the ecstasy of a trip to Sainsbury’s as she awaits her boss who is taking several hours to pump up his car tyres. Later I have cycling, the Exeter and a scotch egg to look forward to.

Having recovered from the illness I gave her, L is back at PT on Tuesday. As L leaves, Daughter pops home for a power nap, a shower and breakfast then heads out again. In the evening L is at ‘An Evening with Kate Summerscale’, which is a book event at Waterstones, while the Lad and I dog train.

Then she’s out again the next night, this time at Nottingham Playhouse with Harriet Walter and Friends. Something about Shakespeare’s women. I’m at the much less salubrious surroundings of the Viceroy Indian in Derby with my old school friend enjoying their £20 for 4 courses deal after a few pints in the Alexandra first. We pass on the dessert but I come home with plenty of Naan for the Lad.

It is good to see that the evening Red Arrow is now running every half an hour during the week as well as at weekends which is progress. 

On Thursday I’m out with my Dad and having another meal at the New Inn. Obviously, he’s on the fish and chips but I have a curry. We even have dessert. L meanwhile is on the healthy option of the gym and an evening swim.

On Friday we drive up to York for a weekend away and, yes, it includes Parkrun. We arrive early and find the centre of York all dug up and a congested nightmare. When we eventually park up we find the quirky Perky Peacock cafe for coffee and cake.

Then after we drive to our hotel, I find out that I’ve booked the wrong Holiday Inn. I had wanted the one adjacent to the Racecourse where parkrun is but the one I’ve actually booked is on the other side of York, miles away. It’s a bit isolated but we do have the Toby Carvery next door where we go for tea. They even let the Lad in to the bar.

There is actually a parkrun near where we are staying but we find out that it’s been called off. The next nearest one is mind numbing five laps. So we opt to drive back to the Racecourse where we splash round the waterlogged course and the lad finds plenty of puddles to rest up in. We then somehow manage to get all the way back to our hotel in time for breakfast which was being served until 10.30.

Then we get the bus into York, as it’s too far to walk. The Lad not only copes with that but with a bus tour around the sights as well although this consists of mostly getting stuck in the traffic again. After that we walk him along the city walls before slipping into the Slip Inn for a drink and then to a Black Sheep pub that serves the best curry I’ve had in a quite a while, better than last few restaurant ones I’ve had. We get a different bus back which goes a different route and we get off at the wrong stop but we manage to navigate our way down some country lanes back to the hotel.

On Sunday, after breakfast at the hotel, we then head back onto the previous night’s bus route because we had noticed that they’d been setting that up for the Yorkshire marathon which we go and watch. Storm Ashley has caused the Great South Run to be cancelled but up here in the north life goes on as normal. After we’ve watched all the runners, we head home but first L puts up with me going to York’s famous Railway Museum. A treat I was denied as a kid. She hides in the coffee shop with a book while I relive my neglected childhood. The Flying Scotsman is not there but at least the Mallard is. 

(Sunday 20^th October)

250%

L is in work on Monday and with a boss, so she stays there and is annoyed to miss the thrill of Sainsbury’s.

My health is not yet 100%, so I cancel my cycling session as that requires at least 250% health. Daughter is away but having the house to ourselves sadly coincides with me passing my germs on to ill who retreats to bed at 7pm where she stays for most of Tuesday having cancelled her PT and stayed off work. She briefly emerges for the dog walks in the morning and evening but returns to bunker in between.

We defer Tuesday's Steak Night until L is better and instead I take my Dad out to a very quiet New Inn amidst heavy rain.

By Wednesday L is recovering but very slowly and still cancels Wednesday’s yoga and book club. She also moves her usual Thursday with her parents to Saturday.

By Saturday L is firing on all cylinders and just in time for Alvaston Parkrun. After which, while L is visiting her Dad I take mine to a pair of doctor’s appointment and then to Brenda’s cafe on London Road for lunch.

In the evening, we walk down to Caning Circus where after having found the Blue Monkey to be too busy, we have one in the Good Fellow George before settling in the Borlase where we get to flirt with an eleven-week-old whippet puppy.

On Sunday we do a joint gym and then we do our third cinema week in a row. It is by far the oddest of the three and is called Timestalker. 

Alice Lowe plays a woman who continually regenerates after death into another person, forever in pursuit of the same man and forever destined to die for him or because of him, usually horrifically. In the 17th Century she is a maidservant who is enamoured with a preacher about to be executed. In 18th Century she is a noblewoman who has a fascination with a highwayman. In the 1980s she is a superfan chasing a pop star. 

She also pops up in between but some of these are so fleeting you lose track of what's going on as the film gets forever messier and you perhaps come to the conclusion that she, and perhaps everyone else, are just totally mad.

We try to debrief afterwards over a Thai curry in Paste. 

(Sunday 13^th October)

Shorter Distances Are Available

L is in work briefly on Monday but as her boss again doesn’t turn up for duty she soon comes home. 

I’m at cycling and on Tuesday L is at PT where her trainer is considering, but only considering, taking up running. However when he asked L how long a half marathon was and she told him, he was a bit shocked. Of course shorter distances are available and we look forward to seeing him at Parkrun.

In the evening L is dining out posh with friends at Le Bistrot Pierre in Derby while the Lad and I are slumming it at dog training where he does ok for the second week in a row.

On Thursday we do another early morning run, doing the legendary ‘Rodney’ route covering 6k in total.

On Friday we’re in Burton for a curry at Balti Tower with friends before which we grab a pint in the Devonshire Arms.

I wake up with a bit of a temperature which L thinks is curry induced but I beg to differ. I do decide that it would be prudent to skip Parkrun even though it is Forest Rec’s 500^th event. The Lad is frustrated to not get to run as we go to support L.

Later Derby beat QPR 2-0 and then we’re in the Plough where the advertised Porters are not on but at least Supreme is.

To my surprise the Supreme doesn’t seem to have cured whatever illness I seem to have picked up and I’m still ill on Sunday morning as L runs off to outdoor yoga at Wollaton Hall. We meet for coffee and a bacon roll afterwards.

Then we’re at Broadway later for a meal and to see the film 'Lee' about former model and photographer Lee Miller played by Kate Winslet. 

The film focuses on Miller’s time as a war correspondent during WWII after she refused to be pigeonholed as a has-been model. She travels to the frontline in Europe and then later becomes one of the first to discover the Nazi concentration camps. This tale of the chain-smoking and hard-drinking Miller features gratuitous topless scenes and the most dubious attempt ever to get sex by use of camouflage paint, that oddly seemed to work.

The story is built from the significant collection of photographs and manuscripts that were discovered in Miller's attic following her death in 1977, a collection that became the Lee Miller Archives. Most of which seemed to be unknown to her family.

The story is told in retrospect in what initially appears to be an interview with her late in her life by a man who later turns out to be her son Antony Penrose and the interview is in fact a memory from his perspective. 

(Sunday 6^th October)

Stingy Old Gits

L is in work on Monday but all on her own with initially no boss and no one else in the building at all which sounds a bit spooky. She wisely locks herself in until her boss arrives, full of cold.

Something has been digging holes in our garden and now I’ve finally found the culprit. It’s the same squirrel that’s been stealing nuts from our bird feeder. He\she’s been burying his\her stolen goods in our lawn. The Lad has chased him\her off several times but he\she keeps coming back.

In the evening I have a committee meeting where we have to replace our Chair who is standing down. Thankfully I don’t have to step in.

In a week of new experiences. L does landmines at PT, something I’m surprised she hasn’t done before. Apparently it is something that could help improve her swim ‘speed’. That’s not a word she often uses.

Meanwhile Daughter starts new role at work and the Lad actually looking a bit like a dog that knows what it’s doing at training.

On our morning walk the local Mr Healthy pulls up on his mobility scooter to offer the Lad a biscuit. When he’s gone L tells me he’s on the way to shop for his daily diet of chicken nuggets and an eight pack of Carling. He's three times married apparently although they have all left him. Can’t imagine why.

The much healthier L goes out for a morning run on Thursday but I don’t join her. She’s then on her usual Derby trip while I’m out later with my Dad in the New Inn.

On Friday night I am out in Bingham with my mates from Uni. I head over on the bus to what is our first reunion in two years. As usual we meet in the Horse and Plough but in a departure we then go for a meal in the Circle restaurant. What a bunch of old gits we are now as we all whip out our glasses to read the menu. One of the guys even leaves his chips, just like my 96 year old Dad does. Then we head off to Wetherspoons, which halves the price of all the drinks. How more stingy old git can you get than that.

On Saturday I sit out Parkrun at Wollaton and just support L. Then we both head over to Derby because Son is over for the match in his Dad’s seat, who is away. L comes over for the rare chance to touch base with him. As expected, with Son present, Derby lose although they’re actually robbed by a goal after the ball went out of play as they lose 3-2 to Norwich.

Then it’s a night on the Chocolate Stout and Bendigo in the Plough after L has been in the gym.

On Sunday we watch the Robin Hood Half, then the slightly less dynamic World Cycling Championship from Zurich. After which we do a joint gym, where L has a bit of a bitch (which isn’t like her) because nearly all the treadmills are taken by people walking, and then we're at the cinema with a pre-film meal of rather messy Tacos at Broadway.

We are here to see ‘The Outrun’. I think largely because it's set on Orkney which is one of L's favourite places particularly if it involves a wind-lashed cottage. Naturally I'd rather be camping. 

Saoirse Ronan is a young woman from Orkney but who has been living the student high life in London and has become an expert at getting legless. Now she is back on Orkney, volunteering for the RSPB helping to protect the local corncrakes while trying to dry out. Alongside this she has a host of parental issues. She has an alcoholic and bipolar father, who she seems to take after. He is living in a caravan having sold the family farm while her Mum has found religion. She is not at all enamoured with either.

(Sunday 29^th September)

Legendary

Saturday’s parkrun at Forest Rec is on an amended course due to the Goose Fair. They send us twice up the hill, which is nice of them. It’s more like the old course, which also had two ascents of the hill but via an easier route! We go to café afterwards where the coffee is very very slow to arrive and we also find out they no longer do breakfast cobs. 

While there we talk with a chap from Redhill club who is still running in his 80s. He fondly recalls some cracking times he was still running in his 60s which are faster than anything I’ve done ever.

Talking of oldies. It is also my Dad’s 96^th birthday. I go over to listen to the match on the radio with him and then bring him over for a night in the Plough. L fortifies us first with her legendary cottage pie.

The Plough has a beer called ‘Wot No Cheyz’, an oatcake stout from Front Row Brewery in Stoke, which is very nice.

My Dad stays over and then we take him to the Wollaton for breakfast and then up to a 1940s Military Day at Newstead Abbey. Sadly the fact we’ve had some heavy rain means there’s little on display but my Dad has a good time and a great weekend.

(Sunday 22^nd September)

Los Campesinos

Tonight I am at the Foundry, otherwise known as the Students Union of Sheffield University. The support band Me Rex are very very loud unless its purely because I’m stood right next to a speaker stack. They are definitely raucous and very good with a touch of Forward Russia about them. 

Their enthusiasm is hugely infectious and they quickly won over the crowd with a performance of what I'm told was indie punk bubblegrunge (or something like that). However getting deafened by the support band probably isn’t a great tactic.

In between bands I head off to find a beer as Sheffield Uni is usually awash with Thornbridge but not tonight and I come back empty handed.

Los Campesinos take the stage and immediately up the stakes out-racousing Me Rex. Opening with 'A Psychic Wound' from the new album which slides us in gently until the popular threesome of 'I Broke Up in Amarante', 'Romance Is Boring' and 'Avocado, Baby' up the craziness as they add in first crowd surfing and then a circle pit. It's clear already that it's not just the support band who were loud and I'm now very deaf. 

Los Campesinos were formed in 2006 and looking around a lot of the audience would barely be born then. Lead singer Gareth clearly has the same thought and asks how many were here the first time they played Sheffield, in this very room, 17 years ago in 2007. Four hands go up. How many seeing them for the first time… about half the room. All barely older than the lifetime of the bad. Yet when 'Knee Deep at ATP', from the first album, comes round they all go wild. It's very interesting how people get into bands these days. 

The band had a brief moment in the sun in the late 2000s with the likes of 'You! Me! Dancing!', saved as always for the encore, but they were then largely written off but not forgotten. The seven-piece, who cram on to a stage bedecked with banners for just causes, have become cult stars who sadly come around far too infrequently. Their new album 'All Hell' is their seventh but their first for seven years and it is self-produced, self-released and self-marketed on a budget of allegedly just £190. Yet tonight and the whole tour are sold out.

Tracks from the new album slot in neatly within a career spanning set list covering their usual subjects - doomed romances, doomed football, doomed capitalism etc. On of their new tracks 'To Hell in a Handjob' is apparently about 'punching fascists with your mates'. Musically, they don’t miss a beat.

Gareth gives up the mic briefly for keyboardist Kim takes the lead on the wonderful 'kms' before taking it back and insisting that the rest of the set will all be 'bangers', if anyone has any energy left. I could have done with that beer. 

Fading Light

One of my old student hangouts in Nottingham, The Palais, re-opens this week. It has now been taken over by the DHP Family, the owners of Rock City. They say they will be bringing back student nights, alongside ex-student nights and in due course they plan to put on live music. Could be interesting.

On Saturday at Alvaston Parkrun my time of 25:57 is my fastest for two years. Derby’s start decent to the season continues with a win 1-0 over Cardiff, their third win from five games. L does a late gym and then we do a late Plough although I may have twisted her arm on both. I work my way through Supreme, Bullion and Legend with each one running out after I’d had a pint of it.

We do a joint gym on Sunday then we’re both we’re back at work on Monday and for L it’s the first time in the office for seven whole weeks but she’s back home by 11am as her boss seemingly forgets he supposed to be back in at all. I, of course, have no office to go into. I am back on the track in the evening and at the Exeter afterwards.

Tuesday sees L make another attempt to link up with her boss and isn’t happy about it as he turns up this time. Another return on Tuesday is dog training.

On Wednesday we haul ourselves out of bed early and do a 4k run with the Lad. Thursday has L in Derby and then at yoga while with the evening light now fading we bring tennis forward to 5pm to get a final game of the season in. 

(Thursday 19^th September)

Welsh Coastal Tour With A Beachaholic Dog

Our fortnight's holiday starts with rehanging my Dad’s gate that he’s being repairing and repainting. This involves me cutting my hand, which isn’t a good start to the trip.

Not long after crossing the border into Wales is our first stop at Llangollen where we check out the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct at a place simply known as Trevor. L and my Dad go on the boat across the aqueduct while I walk across with the Lad who isn’t allowed on board. 

Our first stay is at the Hand Hotel. After checking in, L and I go exploring and find the Corn Mill pub which has five beers but all pale ones. The pick of the bunch has to be Old Prickly because L says it must be named after her. Back at the hotel the only beer is Clogwin Gold from Conwy at only 3.6% but they do provide us with a Sunday Roast. It quickly transpires that my Dad has forgotten his bank card, so it seems that all the bills will be on me. 

The next day we visit the two bookshops in Llangollen before pushing on with our tour which briefly takes us to Rhyl which is not particularly pleasant. Neither is the coastal road spoilt as it is by the awful A55. The beach and coffee that we find at Colwyn Bay is the best of a bad bunch. We arrive at our next total in Llandudno at 3pm and send my father to bed. L and I then walk the pier and go on the Ferris Wheel with the not terribly impressed Lad before ending up at Tapps micro pub. The Titanic Atlantic Red at 5.4% is very nice but not at all Welsh. The Tenby made Mor Du 5% stout certainly is. The hotel meanwhile has bottles from the Conwy Brewery, one of which Rampart at 4.8% quickly becomes a favourite of mine. We also sample the local Penderyn whiskey, which has one of its three distilleries in Llandudno. 

On Tuesday we take a bus tour to Conwy where we walk down the Quayside and have a pint in the Bank of Conwy which is no longer a bank. In the evening we do a 5k run back in Llandudno where I move on to bottles of Celtic Pride as I’ve drunk all the Rampart. 

Our third day in Llandudno sees my Dad and I take the tram up the Great Orme while L walks up and down it with the Lad.

Then my Dad gets to do a spin on the Ferris wheel. We spend another night in the hotel bar with their limited food range but at least they have restocked the Rampart.

We’re back on the road on Thursday and we take a trip to Beaumaris on Angeley but don’t stop as there’s little to see and no easy parking for my Dad while dogs are seemingly not welcome near the castle. Instead we take a boat trip on the Menai Strait from Caernarfon before getting back in the car and completing the journey to our next stopover at the Sandbanks Hotel in Barmouth. We have an excellent room with a sea view although this isn’t ideal with a beachaholic dog.

After checking in we walk up to Myrddins Tap and some nice Black Rock Porter 5.6% from the Tudor Brewery. We eat back at the hotel where they have Purple Moose in bottles and on keg. It’s very raucous in their bar and may be even more so the next day when they have Elvis performing. So we may go elsewhere.

Friday is hot and we have a beach day much to the Lad’s delight. That is until he vomits up seawater and his breakfast. L swims in the sea and my Dad has a paddle. We have coffee on the sea front and then an afternoon beer back in Myrddins Tap. Later we are at the Bank Restaurant to avoid Elvis where I have the rack of lamb, L has a cauliflower masaman and my Dad has unbattered cod without chips and eats the lot.

Saturday is of course Parkrun in Barmouth or Y Promenâd Parkrun yn Abermaw as they say around here. I run with the Lad while my Dad can literally watch from the hotel where we join him afterwards for a late breakfast. Post-Parkrun L swims in sea again then we take a ferry boat from Barmouth Harbour across the bay to Fairbourne where we catch a steam train and then a mainline train to bring us back to Barmouth. Quite an exciting trip especially if you’re the Lad or a 95 year old like my Dad. L and I have to sneak off to the Tap again to recover.

Two pints and three shots of local gin later we eat at the hotel where they have another singer on but this time not Elvis.

L runs on Sunday but I don’t. It’s a wet day as we drive south over a toll bridge before eventually ending up back at Fairbourne where we were the other day, looking back across the bay to Barmouth.

Our journey then takes us to Tywyn where we seek out the train from Race The Train which L did in the late 90s and have a coffee on the seafront. By the time we arrive at our next stop, the Pier Hotel in Aberystwyth, the weather has got very windy. Time to batten down the hatches and hide under the duvet for a while before checking out the Bank Vaults for a couple of beers/blackcurrant gins. We eat in the dog friendly Antalya Turkish restaurant right next door to the hotel.

The next day we’re on our second tram of the holiday, or rather the Aberystwyth Cliff Railway, where we have breakfast cobs and coffee at top before driving to the next cove but there isn’t a lot there. 

 

We return to Aberystwyth where my Dad and I frequent Sophie’s cafe while L does the book shops. Then with my Dad back at the hotel having a nap, we check out the Bottle & Barrel which is the big sister pub of the Vaults we were in the previous night. Later we walk my Dad to the Baravin restaurant which was a bit too far for him really but actually only 300 metres. Perhaps he’ll let us bring the wheelchair next time.

On Tuesday morning we run along the prom covering 4k in what are still very windy conditions. We are then back on the road, grabbing breakfast on route at the Corris Craft Centre before driving up through Dolgellau to Beddgelert and our next stopover at the Royal Goat Hotel. We go for a walk and have a look at our old campsite, which is now very posh, and find a van completely wedged in the narrow lane behind it. We then have a drink at the Llewellyn where we used to take the kids for turkey twizzlers. We eat at our hotel where they have Purple Moose in bottles.

On Wednesday L runs but again I don’t. Then we walk my Dad down into the centre of the village looking for the hotel he once stayed in. This was probably the Saracens Head. We then take him on the Aberglaslyn Express train to Porthmadog. We did the same trip when we were last in Wales only in reverse. He finds the walk up to the station and at the other end hard work. Yes, I think the wheelchair might have helped. When we get back we sample the beer in the Saracens which would probably be a good place to stay as it’s also very dog friendly. Only the Tanronen is not dog friendly and doesn’t look that human friendly either. We eat at the hotel again and have a bottle of wine between us.

The next day L and I run along the footpath to Rhyd Du which is a very nice route. Then we start the drive back towards home via the Glaslyn Osprey centre and then Betws-y-Coed for coffee. We’re not heading all the way home just yet though as we have one more stop planned in Mold. Although we are actually staying in New Brighton which is about 1.5 miles outside of Mold. L and I walk in, to find the bookshop and the Micropub. We are still back at the hotel in time for the Lad’s teatime. We eat at the hotel where they have two real ales on, the best of any of the hotels we’re stayed in. Both from Facers Ales from Flint or Fflint as they call it in Wales. 

On our final day we visit the Mold Museum, the home of the famous Mincemeat soldier before heading back home via coffee and cake in Whitchurch. Once back home we’re both straight in the gym to work off that cake... and everything else.

 (Friday 13^th September)

Family Politics

Monday is a Bank Holiday, so that’s two lie-ins in two days. Nice. After still doing the normal Monday shop at Sainsbury’s, I cut the lawns at Aston followed by a pint with my Dad in the Harrington at Thulston. 

After PT on Tuesday L heads off to Mickleover because her brother is sending someone to collect the rest of his stuff to be sent to his new home in Columbia. In the evening Derby go out of the League Cup to Barrow on penalties continuing our proud tradition of losing to lower league sides in the cups. It’s slightly embarrassing but that’s what you get when you don’t take these competitions seriously.

On Wednesday Dog training is back from it’s summer break but just for one week for the Lad and I as we’re then off on holiday for a fortnight. It’s a calm reintroduction just doing the basics meaning the Lad doesn’t get to do any of the five tunnels on offer.

There’s no tennis on Thursday so we do a joint but not joint gym session. Then, as we’ve been doing for several evenings, we listen to Family Politics by John O’Farrell which is a lot duller than he made out at his talk and frankly quite annoying. It drives us to drink, a rather nice Mount Ventoux red with a picture of cyclist Tom Simpson on the front of it. Which is perfect for watching the Vuelta which is on at the moment.

We aren’t seeing much of Daughter at the moment but she does pop home occasionally from a secret location somewhere for a shower and a change of clothes.

L has extra PT on Friday as she will miss some sessions while we’re away. On Saturday we run Poolsbrook parkrun with L’s sister followed by bacon sandwiches at the park café. It’s also the Lad’s fourth parkrun in a row as I get used to new hand held lead rules. Meanwhile the 1,000th event at Bushy Park pulls 6,000 runners. Then Derby put in their best performance so far this season to beat Bristol City 3-0. We stay in as we’re off away on Sunday. 

(Saturday 31^st August)