I'd love to see Constantinople, but it hasn't happened yet.
What I do know is that a Turkish barbershop is the only place to get your face done and your hair did.
I steered clear of having my barnet sheared by a local in Manchester, mindful of how terrible the Gallaghers et al are turned out.
It was a relief, therefore, to return to London and see my pals at the Bay Room on the Goswell Road.
A long urban ramble took me all the way from my front door in Clerkenwell to Bromley, in what was once Kent. After reaching Dulwich Park the walk was nearly all green, but there was lots to see in the less lovely sections not far south of the river.
Take a look at these fantastic decorated bins outside a moody looking boozer on Walworth Road.
I managed to trespass on Dulwich Hamlet's pitch
The pub was the Woodman in Otford near Sevenoaks, Kent, if you're interested. This spectacular pint of Harvey's Sussex Best was enjoyed after a short circular walk, encompassing a sedate section of the North Downs Way. This was my reintroduction to the gentle charms of South East England, after doing my rambling in the Peak District of late.
Stockport, a town in Greater Manchester, has two Sam Smith's pubs. I can report they're both great places to drink a £1.80 pint of Old Brewery Bitter.
If you're walking from the railway station, cross over the bridge that connects that side of town with the market square, ignoring for now the steps that tempt to you to explore what lies beneath. The St Petersgate Bridge was built in the 1860s.
There's not much doing here on STONCH, so I'd like to point readers to this tremendously good piece by Matt Lawrenson on the reasons behind the decline of pub culture.
There's nothing novel here, but what he has done is fearlessly and succinctly set out the real reasons why we're probably still over-pubbed. We oddballs and misfits can sing all the laments we like, but Matt's right: normal people
Did you know that every Wetherspoons carpet is unique? No, neither did I, put apparently it's true. Here's a Tumblr account dedicated to the different designs across the country.
Now that might seem a bit odd to you, but then so is giving scores to beers on an app on your phone to most people. And at least this chap is doing something virtuous: highlighting the magnificence of the Tim Martin
A tweet from our man Arthur adds to an ongoing twitter and blog debate:
Unrelated, yet to me strangely relevant, to the sudden talk about "diversity" in craft beer. pic.twitter.com/6sq76uFbuw
— Arthur Scargill (@ArthurJScargill) January 17, 2016
By choosing to concentrate on race, gender and sexual proclivities, are those banging on about a lack of diversity in craft beer failing to address
During my brief return to London I met a pal for a beer in Soho. As the sky turned dark and the offices spewed out the many multitudes on to the streets, we ducked into The John Snow on Broadwick Street. It is, of course, a Samuel Smith's house.
Old-fashioned partitions divide the ground floor of the pub into two bars. You can, in fact, move between them without going back on to the street:
I'd been away from London for just over a month, my longest absence from my own home in over a decade. It was grand to be back in medieval Clerkenwell and Smithfield, and in Georgian Bloomsbury and Fitzrovia.
Still, there's no forgetting the North when Sam Smith's pubs are your preference: they're dotted around my favourite parts of the metropolis, and increasingly they tick all the boxes when I
"Soda" is American for pop. The rest of the words are the same, though.
As you'll have gathered, I don't have a lot of interest in the more extreme end of brewing these days.
Indeed, if you told me I could choose only from a solid Czech pilsner, an English bitter and a porter for the rest of my life I'd consider my lot a fairly happy one (I might put in a special plea for a great German