Look Out Leamington, Here Comes The Chip Foundation...

The Chip Foundation are a hardy bunch and we're not about to let a little bit of bad weather prevent us from attempting our first trip of 2022. Nick is ready and waiting to host a tour of Royal Leamington Spa's not-inconsiderable sporting pedigree so across to Warwickshire we go...

- Dr Henry Jephson -

Saturday 19th February is the agreed date for Episode 67 of the Chip Foundation Chronicles, and thankfully Storm Eunice has subsided after wreaking havoc across the country. Our 10:42 train from Wolverhampton is remarkably running to schedule given all the disruption, and we reach Leamington as planned on what is still a very wet morning. Rain or no rain, Nick leads us on a squelch through the Jephson Gardens so as to show us the Hitchman Fountain, the Glasshouse and a carved hedgehog. The park is named in tribute to the notable physician Dr Henry Jephson who promoted the health benefits of the local spa waters, hence his marble statue takes pride of place inside its own Corinthian-styled temple. 

- Drying out in the Builder's Arms -

Embracing his sporting theme with gusto, Nick guides us along Willes Road when pointing out blue plaque properties that were respectively home to the Renshaw Twins (pioneering tennis players) and the champion boxer Randolph Turpin. The deluge is catching up with us at this point so the shelter of a pub is much appreciated, hence we pitch into the Builders Arms on Lansdowne Street. Beardsmore Junior takes advantage of the cheap drinks deals in procuring discount pints of Guinness, Doom Bar and the requisite lemonade and blackcurrant; we then dry out over a discussion about Prince Andrew's out-of-court settlement, during which Mr B Senior declares that he wouldn't fork out for any Stephenish misdemeanours.

- Gathered in the Greyhound -

Luckily everyone is on their best behaviour as we relocate to our second watering hole merely a few yards along the same street. The Greyhound is a Craft Union establishment which is almost exclusively the preserve of middle-aged men - there's not a woman in sight! Most of the regulars are engrossed in the racing from Ascot so we take up a back bench beside an enlarged historic Ordnance Survey frieze. Conversation about tin mining prompts JB into a scathing assessment of Cornish beer, although I suspect the local ales down there have improved considerably since the days of Beardsmore yore. Elsewhere, Nick's hopes of an initial pub hat trick are thwarted by the Holly Bush being closed for refurbishment. 

- Lansdowne Circus -

The skies are promisingly clearing although there remain some ominous dark clouds hovering above Lansdowne Circus, an attractive pocket of townhouses arranged around a communal garden - the noted writer Nathaniel Hawthorne resided here once upon a time. Lunch comes courtesy of the Benjamin Satchwell Wetherspoons where a mysterious absence of Wiltshire ham almost brings about a mutiny. Stephen placates himself with a bowl of chips while Ken makes extensive use of the coffee machine. Nick and I keep the ale flag flying and confirm that the Byatt's XK Strong is drinking nicely as a beefed-up version of the brewery's Mild. 

- A Beacon For Bowls? -

Suitably nourished, we press on with Nick's afternoon agenda which requires a visit to lovely Victoria Park, flanking the far banks of the River Leam. The park grounds are home to the Royal Leamington Spa Bowls Club which proudly proclaims itself as the 'Home of Bowls' on account of holding the annual championships each year. There are five expertly-maintained competition greens which later this year will be a host venue for the Commonwealth Games. The whole site is overlooked by the Cricketers, a gem of a town pub complete with stained glass skylights and a bearded portrait of WG Grace. Timothy Taylor's Landlord seems to be the preferred tipple amongst our ensemble albeit I opt for Windmill Hill's 'The Chesterton', locally-brewed and most enjoyable as the football final scores filter in. 

- A Sense of Impending Doom (Bar) -

Having corroborated that Blues have drawn 2-2 at Stoke - a result Ken seems pleased about - we head into Old Town for Nick's final surprise of the day. Alas Apehangers Bar only opens for private functions so we are spared the novelty of walking through a Smeg fridge to gain entry; instead our fallback is the trusty Railway Inn on Clemens Street which is certainly getting into its Saturday evening stride (lively is an understatement). Finding a quieter corner, we partake of further Doom Bar and agree that the Chip Foundation ought to stage more Warwickshire adventures. The 18:15 train takes us home and that sirs rounds off a mighty fine day - cheers!