Rhyl and Prestatyn complete, three pubs down, we'd hit the halfway point in the day.
To Mold or not to Mold?
The advantage of Molding is that the town has three GBG ticks, meaning we could get the day done in one pub visit.
The disadvantage, getting off the train at Flint, bus services were sparse. Taxis an unknown quantity. And getting back from Mold, potentially just as tough with many buses final services circa 5-6pm.
The alternative? Keep going down the line, hopping off at Chester, Newton-le-Willows and Manchester Victoria for the remaining three ticks.
I was edging Mold, and so was Daddy BRAPA, though if you ask him now, I'm sure he'll tell you I forced him against his will. I was later told off by Mummy BRAPA for pushing him too hard over the last three weeks. #EvilSi (Nonsense of course, but for the sake of peace in the family unit, I'm happy to play the bit-part villain).
I have to admit though that these last three weeks HAVE been a bit much. Car days around North Yorks and Lancs have been hastily pencilled in over the wintertime!
Anyway, Mold it was. How many times can I write Mold in one blog?
Farewell Prestatyn .....
Hello Flint! A gloomy place I visited in 2013, nothing had changed, not even the rain, when I ticked off the Royal Oak as part of my 'L is for Llandudno .... Si's A-Z Aleway Adventures' day, which I'm sure hasn't been in the Guide since.
With 40 minutes until the next bus, I prayed taxis would be plentiful. They weren't! Five companies I phone, four picked up, all four said no cars available for at least an hour.
Dad walked down the high street keeping his eyes peeled. Nothing doing. I needed a wee. Time for a slow half before the bus?
Looking like quite a well appointed Marston's house, George & Dragon, Flint (3445) was quite different in reality. Note the 'gross' pub number of 3445 (sadly not net!) this is because it is a Post-Emptive as verified by Axholme Rob on Twitter after some sterling work. He tells me it featured in the 1982 - 84 and '86 editions.
Let's take a look at its previous entry .....
|Basic 'men only' bar for men doing manly man pub things, grrrrowl.|
"Spoilt for choice, lolz?" chirps our garrulous hostess, seeing the panic in my eyes as I scan the bar for signs of real ale, even a vinegary Pedigree would do. "Arf a guinness" I quiver, as do all ale drinkers in this situation. Dad orders a J20. A pissed up bloke to my right slurs "you do right mate, gotta be 'ealthy" or words to that effect. Friendliest 'most alive' pub of the day, everyone you look at says 'hi'. Keg only pubs, always the friendliest and scariest. Pubs with 20 cask ales on? You'll be lucky if they spit on you, they'll probably not notice you. It soon becomes clear Dad's J20 order hasn't been registered, it did feel like that type of pub. He wisely doesn't question it. Remember he has a new phone so his Google Maps would be more effective for navigation on his Boozy Brum Boys tour next week? Well, he chose this moment to get me to help him set up his fingerprint unlocking system. Making him the most modern man in Flint. My 'Arf er Guinness' drank well, but we have a bus to catch.
|AND I forgot my 50p off vouchers|
|Dad distracted by dog insanity at crucial moment|
Easily the pick of the Mold trio was the Mold Alehouse, Mold (2018 / 2448) , not because it had loads of beer choice or anything so crass even though it did, but I just really really liked the building in which it was situated. Reminded me of taking my cats to the vets when I was younger, Grade II listed and some sort of chambers of secrets. Taxi lady didn't have a clue when I said where we wanted picking up from the Mold Alehouse, but as soon as I said Earl Chambers, she was like 'yup boyo'. Someone tells me this used to be the Chester Chronicle offices too. Disservice to call it simply a 'micropub'. We probably missed some sign on entry, fighting our way through the lively wide-eyed crowd to the bar. "MASKS ON!" came the cry. We apologised, as my sister found on a recent trip to Scotland, rules still a bit stricter outside England. I later put on Twitter we'd been told off, the pub saw it and said it was hardly a telling off, just good job we didn't order Fosters! Oh how we llol'd (laughing out loud in Wales), we'll call it a stern reminder then! Happy place though, ale of the day, no idea what I ordered (not Fosters) but hardly matters six pints in does it? Hardly going to be fire up the ole' Untappd at that stage of the day. Sad that out of six GBG ticks, I'd only enjoyed two pints. But a positive note on which to end, if you are only in Mold for one (I can't imagine such a scenario), I'd pick this.
|Smile like Daddy BRAPA and the world smiles with you|
|BRAPA Window Of The Year (WOTY) contender|