BRAPA - My three last Bedfordshire pub ticks!

Although I was giving myself a 14 hour day to complete the remaining three pubs I needed for Bedfordshire's 2016 GBG entries, I was still a bit nervous that I might return home without the desired conclusion, as planning the day had been a strategical nightmare and I ended up with 4 scenarios to choose from!  (Option 2 worked best).

Starting my walk from Woburn Sands to Salford

I was in Bedford for 10am, and a local one carriage train (class 153 for you geeks) sped off to Woburn Sands where I 'alighted' (quirky archaic term) to make the two mile walk to Salford, which here is actually pronounced "Sal-ford" and not "Sol-ford".  It was frosty under foot but bright sunshine with no cloud in the sky, and I enjoyed the trek although the lack of pavement made it quite hairy at times and the constant jumping up and down onto a grass verge was a good test of the improving ankle, which I don't like to talk about(!)

Waiting for the Red Lion to open on a frosty morning in rural Beds.

781.  Red Lion Hotel, Salford

Having lurked in the village just long enough to have the local Neighbourhood Watch twitching their curtains, I went for broke at 10:57am and was delighted when the door swung open.  Salford was an extremely remote village which would be idyllic if it wasn't for the M1 motorway within earshot.  The landlord looked so surprised at my presence, I asked if he really was open but this was no Dolphin in Robin Hood's Bay and I was soon "enjoying" the only ale on, Wells Eagle, a beer I probably won't miss too much now Beds is finished (well, til' September!)  This was as good as I have had it, and the landlord explained that they normally have two or three, but lack of trade due to January plus their remote location means he'd be wasting beer if he put any more on.  I sympathised.  He was a really nice chap and we chatted whilst I warmed up on the real fire in the front bar.  This was very much a pub despite the obvious reliance on the "feeders" (as I might start calling people who come into pubs mainly to have a meal).  His wife scurried about too, getting logs for the fire, and mine host was soon quizzing me on 60's music but sadly my knowledge is limited because (a) I'm too young and (b) 60's music is 95% boring (a Simon fact!).  We chatted BRAPA and without even asking, he gave me a taxi number to save me a similarly dodgy walk back.  This was a classic example of a BRAPA 11am opener where I'm the only customer, and yes, the pub was worth the effort to get there.   As I left, I got my first BRAPA handshake since Skipsea a year ago.

Great fire, great carpet - Red Lion in Salford, Beds.

The taxi driver didn't exactly inspire confidence, late turning up, smelling of Baileys, sounded like he was snoring whilst driving, and I couldn't understand a word he said.  It was all a bit Father Jack and I was glad to arrive at the station in one piece!

The train back to Bedford was on time, but I had far too long to wait for the 27 bus, so again I taxied as it is only about 2.5 miles,  This one was slightly more convincing, and very friendly too 

782.  Polhill Arms, Renhold

Actually in 'Salph End' rather than Renhold, this place seemed just as remote as Salford despite it's relative closeness to Bedford, though my initial reaction was that it lacked the charm of the last pub.  I think this was all about the seating, not a huge factor you might think, but the scattered tables of 4 covering the entire floor rather some nice proper bench seating did it no favours at all.  Men of all ages 18-80 were glued intently to Spurs v Sunderland despite nothing happening.  At least there were 3 jolly old chaps who'd arrived and asked the West Ham supporting landlord if the warm sausage rolls on the bar were free to drinkers.  I tried to offer my support, but the answer was a resounding "no". I sat a bit away from the TV, the sun reflecting off the screen anyway, and mine host noticed my GBG on the table so I explained this was my penultimate Beds tick.  We were soon chatting about York, his favourite pubs being - in order - (1) Burns Hotel (Hansom Cab) (2) Golden Lion (3) Hole in the Wall, and his favourite beers were Sam Smith's OBB and Black Sheep.  Well, I nodded politely and was glad the Dark Star Partridge + Polhill Arms trumped all of the above!  In fact, I tried to get him to see that Black Sheep for me, was like Bombardier & Eagle is for him but he had a long line of impatient customers wanting him to return to the bar to serve them.  Sunderland then scored, no one reacted.  Within seconds, Spurs scored, I think someone twitched an eyebrow.  Time raced on, it was time to leave. 

York pub chit-chat at the Polhill Arms

After 5 minutes walking, I reached a villagey area where Google Maps seemed to suggest a bus would stop outside "number 30", despite the lack of bus stop.  It seemed to be getting colder but my taxi'ing meant I was well on schedule, and eventually, a bus turned up and did stop to my relief.  

I walked back to Bedford railway station and took the next train to Luton, where I nodded politely at a few "Town" fans who were looking nervous as they were due to host Cambridge Utd.  I took my third taxi of day, having made a total balls up of my Wigmore Lane bus last time, and another jolly chap seemed pleased with himself that he'd heard of the pub.  Here we go, LAST PUB! 

783.  Wigmore Arms, Luton

If there was a BRAPA award for "best pub which is part of an Asda retail park", then this would win it.  I had serious reservations then on entering, especially as a mean looking couple eye-balled me as I took the BRAPA photo.  I couldn't walk in and bask in the "having completed Bedfordshire" glory either as the pub was packed of middle agers drinking, laughing, covering the floorspace and watching the football scores coming through on Sky Sports News.  Actually, I'd heard this pub screens 'Luton Town TV', perhaps the subscription has lapsed or the thought of watching them at present is enough to empty an entire pub, because there was no sign of it.  The landlord was the third impressive one of the day, one of those larger than life tall fellows whose very presence seems to fill the pub.  His arms were like Mr Tickle's, meaning he could pull pints from separate ends of the bar.  It was busy so this was 'handy'.  The pub had looked like a horrific Hungry Horse/Sizzler thing from the outside, so the fact it felt like a WMC inside could only be a good thing.  The array of pump clips stuck up behind the bar was ultra impressive, so why then was Bombardier (minus raspberry jam taste of Clophill) the most exciting beer on?  I sat on a strange two seater that seemed to have been nicked from a local cinema and squinted up at the football scores.  This was directly above a seat where Luton's answer to Ronnie and Roxy from Eastenders were sat (sexy but deadly!) and I think 'Roxy' thought I was eyeing her up though I was actually just amazed to see Hull City were 4-0 up before half time, which makes the Wigmore the luckiest BRAPA pub to date aswell.  The ladies were joined by two men, an ageing Olly Murs and southern Mick McCarthy, it all looked a bit awkward, so I went to get a bus (delayed again!) back into town.

Not as bad as it looks - the Wigmore in Luton

So with Hull City 6-0 up and Bedfordshire completed in great time, life was pretty good.  BRAPA being BRAPA, the good fortune couldn't last as I took the train to Harpenden for an unresearched bonus tick minutes from the station.

It was trying to snow by now, there was ticket barrier chaos, and the Harpenden Arms was closed for refurbishment which was annoying under the circs, showing you can't rely on anything.

Subway mural of Harpenden Arms pub sign was as good as it got! 

Not to be outdone, I hopped on and off at St Albans City and deciding not to do the nearest ones (time was still on my side), I walked out to the part of town known as Sopwell.

Great side street location in Sopwell, St Albans

784.  Garibaldi, St Albans

"Oooh, St Albans, the home of CAMRA, ooh isn't it lurvely, you should be grateful to those bearded sandal wearing founding fathers, you wouldn't be doing BRAPA if it wasn't for them!"  Sorry to be flippant, but this was what I heard in my head as I walked into the pub, I always feel a pressure of coming to this town and the expectant look of the locals just made me feel that they somehow know more than me,  About what I'm not sure.  The best thing about this pub was it's location, a beautiful side street pub, you cannot beat it, I just wish there were more - I love the Wellington in York and that chilly Dog & Bone in Lincoln for the same reasons.  It was Saturday evening now, so getting served was a challenge, but being the theme of the day, the wiry energetic barmaid was buzzing around with eyes in the back of her head, she knew I was stood at the bar before I did!  Getting a seat was tricky, the right hand side with welcoming fire seemed to have the best atmosphere, but everyone else had realised this too so I had to go to a separate area to the left, possibly an extension, and way to the heated astro-turfed smoking area that people insisted on using despite the sub zero temperatures.  As I sat alone and nursed my heavy Gale's HSB, I couldn't help but think back to my first pub of the day and wonder how different this would have been at opening time?  Now I've been in plenty of Fullers pubs, but this one seemed to ram the message home more than most, with branding everywhere you turned.  But it was friendly as a few random people said 'bye' to me on the way out.

Nice glass!  A pint of ESB and my GBG in the Garibaldi.

So that was a nice strategic diversion in that I now have 6 pubs remaining to visit in St Albans, meaning I could make a day of it and learn to love the town (7 would have been a step too far!)

Fullers, Fullers everywhere - and plenty of drops to drink

A little bit paranoid, I headed back to London with plenty of time to spare having been caught out more than once in the past.  This afforded me chance to visit a newly refurbished 'craft' beer house, a couple of mins walk from Kings Cross, a pre-emptive for sure.

Scottish Stores, Kings Cross, London

And the hype was justified.  This has some great old features, and has been redone in the old 1901 style (whatever that is) as it's been more recently a strip club catering mainly for Scunthorpe Utd fans.  It was predictably busy, with a heady mixture of wide eyed French tourists, bearded hipsters and a few scattered worse for wear (wear/Wear - geddit?) Sunderland fans waiting for probably the same train home as me.  The barmaid was a friendly thing and keen to advise people on the wealth of beers on offer, though when a Sunderland man motioned that I was next with his thumb, she darted off to other side of the bar but at least he tried.  Bar etiquette told me it was too busy for tasters and daft questions, so when she returned, I launched straight into a Hopback Winter Lightning cos I love the Summer one so much,  Luckily, there was a stool for one in the corner which gave to chance to admire the place, no wonder the heritage dudes are impressed, I was too and this was all about drinking and chatting.  When a bored French couple went to the loo, 4 students took their seats but there was no argument, well apart from when one of the lads pointed out the William Morris wallpaper to his girlfriend, which upset her greatly and he seemed unimpressed by her lack of cultural prowess.  It was that kind of place. 

Inside Scottish Stores

Well, next time in London I'll definitely be passing through here.  Parcel Yard was actually 4 deep at the bar so I just used it as a toilet (the pub, not the bar), got my Upper Crust and was soon careering back North in the snow, turning my headphones up to drown out the Sunderland fans who were getting around the "dry" train rule by drinking quite openly and singing 80's hits - a novel approach. 

Si

 

 

  

BRAPA - Stanley (Finishing West Yorkshire)

780.  Graziers Inn, Stanley

Finally, I ticked off my final West Yorkshire pub in the 2016 GBG.   There were no party poppers, balloons or guard of honour.  But it wasn't that kind of pub.  And I'm glad.

I was joined by Karen L from work, who used to live in Stanley and 'volunteered' her long suffering hubbie Kevin to drive me there (saving me much bussing and training), and she gave me a commentary of all the local landmarks from Rothwell's slip road to Oulton Hall Golf Club and their scandalous 'points' system driving (driving!) the members away.  It was all very instructive.

Despite having lived here, they'd never been in the Graziers before (scandalous as it turned out) and decreed that I should enter the pub first because, in Karen's words "if the local scroats kick off, we can scarper first!"

Me arriving at the Graziers, ready to take on the scroats

I was confident going in first, having heard positive reviews from fellow blogger retiredmartin.  No scroats here, though the first thing I saw was a pool table, which doesn't normal scream "classic real ale pub".  It was being commandeered by a young man with the type of hairstyle that hasn't been fashionable outside of Stanley since 1972.  He's been playing against himself for ten years now, and is yet to lose a frame!

A tardis like effect was evident here as the pub snaked round to a cosy main bar, with a real fire (there was another at the front), some snazzy wallpaper to match the hairstyle, quirky decor, old photos of Stanley, proper pub bench seating, oh and well kept Abbeydale Moonshine was on so it's fair to say I was in my element, especially as some kindly locals apologised for blocking my view of the ales which emphasised just how far we had come since the Crown and Shuttle in East London.

There were some nougat chocolates in a bowl on the bar with a "help yerself" policy, someone had brought too many back from a holiday in Eastern Europe - mine was called "Michalki Kokosowe", very nice!  I did ask if it was cheese at first, so was actually disappointed.

We sat by the fire admiring the above view, and Kevin was in the chair to buy round two, a darker but very drinkable Beauty Hills from somewhere in Shropshire.    This pub was a microcosm of all the classic aspects of WY pub ticking which I've been enjoying on Tuesday evenings since April 2014, and it was nice to have some BRAPA debutants to enjoy this monumental event.

I even got a lift back to Westgate station which was above & beyond the call of duty, but my luck obviously evened itself up as I missed trains at both the Leeds and York ends by a matter of seconds.  So it was time for a pretty dreadful Big Mac meal and to reflect on a good night, I just wish I hadn't had "Perfect Moment" by Martine McCutcheon in my head all the way home.

Si

p.s. my midweek strategy for the next 3 or 4 weeks is a few achievable North Yorkshire ones before I start the big South Yorkshire pub in mid Feb.  I've got my dirty vest, hand me down toothbrush, crew cut and 6 pack of Stones ready to go,  and with that kind of stereotyping, how can I go wrong?

BRAPA - AWARDS CEREMONY 2015

It's that time of year when I invite you all to sit at a round table with napkins in the shape of swans, open a bottle of a hipster ale (or a blackcurrant cordial / Big Tom for the teetotalers) and sit back & enjoy as we discover which pubs, beers, people and places are the saints and sinners of my many 2015 pub adventures .......

16 categories this year, we'll build up gradually towards the most important "BRAPA Pub of the Year" award.

16.  Brunette of the Year Award - Winner - NEW INN ALEHOUSE & KITCHEN, Biggleswade

Let's get this nonsense over with quickly as I have no memory for this type of thing (faces), however nice the brunette, but the Brunette BRAPA committee (BBC - i.e. Tom) insist and seem to think Snowdrop (Lewes) and Royal Standard (Blackheath) deserve special mentions.  I remember neither so will opt for the brunette in New Inn because she was (a) nice (b) lovely and (c) talked to me about my missing candle!  Well, there you go.  Honorary mention for barmaid at Sair in Linthwaite who was interested and supportive of BRAPA and gave me a local CAMRA magazine. If there was a blonde of the year (which there isn't), it'd be the lovely young lady at No Sign Bar in Swansea.  Now I feel like Father Ted judging a lovely girls competition.  Thanks a lot!

There's a brunette in there if you look closely!

15.  Comedy Moment of the Year Award - Winner - EVERSHOLT TO TODDINGTON

I couldn't work out whether this was the best or worst experience of the BRAPA year so ended up giving it the comedy award!  13th June 2015 and I found myself on a tiny bus explaining BRAPA to a bunch of pensioners who'd just had there weekly trip to Tesco and were returning to Eversholt.  Rain wasn't forecast but the heaven's opened, the Green Man was okay, then Google Maps did something it's never done before or since and "made me" walk across about 10 fields, through a forest, past some sheep and horses to get to Toddington.  The rain was incessant, I was NOT dressed for the occasion and mud and water was right up to my knees so when I arrived at Oddfellows, Toddington I was the oddest fellow there and used up all their paper hand towels.  Across the village green in the Cuckoo, I found a better toilet and it became the first pub I took my trousers off in as I made full use of the hand dryers and micro pub range of soap dispensers.  Traumatic.

Horses indicating the way to Toddington, but I was wet n fed up by this point!

14.  BRAPA Pub Pet of the Year - Winner - Colonel Chambers, Steampacket, Knottingley

I might be biased in the favour of a good pub cat, but then they are the best pet (obviously), and so it is that I understand how they operate so when I spied Colonel Chambers (not it's real name) watching me from under a table, I sat in the far corner, yawn and half  looked at it all unimpressed, just like cats do to humans.  10 mins later, it ambled over for a chin scratch, cuddle and stroke and then disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.  Textbook BRAPA pet behaviour!  Honorable mentions must go to Charlie Green (Parrot) in Sewerby's Ship and also to the characterful dog Sinbad in the Beer in Hand, Hereford but both were a little bit too needy.

Pub Pet of the Year is Colonel Chambers in the Steampacket, Knottingley!

13.  BRAPA "Day From Hell" Award - Winner - Luton, 14th November 2015

Not so much a day from hell in the sense of last year's Whitby catastrophe (there was nothing that bad) but this day was just a massive disappointment from start to finish.  From 20 mins trying to get served in the London Hatter to the woeful X30 bus service to my bladder constantly failing on me, to a horrific wet roadside walk near Whipsnade (nice pub though) where I'd have been safer in the lion's enclosure, to the English Rose was was probably the most boring BRAPA pub of the year, and it all culminated in a bus to Wigmore Road which never actually stopped anywhere near the Wigmore Arms and had me going round in a circle like a muppet, and now makes my final Bedfordshire trip this Saturday that much more difficult.  It was just a rubbish day from start to finish!

The only good part of my "day from hell" in Luton was in Whipsnade!

12.  Football Day BRAPA Pub of the Year - Winner - Nag's Head, Loxley

Absolutely loved this place!  First pub of the day is always great because I'm fresh, sober and ready for a pint, and a pint of Bradfield Farmers Blonde in their own pub doesn't get much better.  Combine that with a real fire, a cooked breakfast, great company, a death list competition and just a really cosy all round pub (though not quite sure why everyone was SHOUTING so much!), a winning combination in anyone's money.  Honorable mentions, the Swan With Two Nicks in Stockport was amazing (the pint of Old Tom helped), the Moorbrook in Preston was superb and Nottingham was probably the most consistently good day out, every pub a gem in it's own way and the people were even friendly and that hardly ever happens in the East Midlands unless you go to Derby when it's a full moon!

It's Bradfield Farmers heaven in Loxley

11.  BRAPA Pub Person of the Year - Winner - B.G. Everitt (aka DAD!)

Oh dear, nepotism abounds but let me just say that without Dad's chauffeuring and great company this year, I'd never have managed to enjoy so many great pubs, particularly in rural East Yorkshire which has been a revelation to me.  The highlight has to be when he'd got this new car for just one day and I was demanding he dodges cyclists up a tight country lane in search of the Gait at Millington.  Legendary stuff.  Loads of people have been supportive this year, but here's some honorable mentions to the best of the rest ..... Tom Irvin for his unswerving support, constant input and "never let up, never say die" attitude to all aspects of BRAPA.  Christine Andrew for helping me in my hour of need when the GBG Privilege Club messed up my order, selflessly giving me her 2016 GBG until the official release date which allowed me to crack on in early September which was a key time.  Retired Martin for his support and making me realise how powerful Twitter can be to help get BRAPA "out there" and all the other Twitterers, Untappders and Instgramers who've recognised BRAPA in 2015.  Christina Sidery for being the most enthusiastic work colleague re BRAPA and accompanying me to Kirkstall and Headingley despite not liking real ale.  Oh, and Shirley and Hannah North for the lift to the impossible to get to Chequers in Ledsham even though their own car broke down!  And all those who've accompanied me in any BRAPA pub.  Even Mummy Ev started to "get it" despite naggings about my liver getting damaged, and was determined to get me to North Cave for that tricky 4pm opener, the White Hart.  I feel emotional.  Oh dear, I've turned into Gwynth Paltrow.

Dad waves to acknowledge his BRAPA Pub Person of the Year Award

10.  Clientele of the Year - Winner - Tony -Chequers, Wrestlingworth / Sir William Peel, Sandy

And whilst we're on the subject of people, those who you meet on your travels.  Nothing more heart warming (well, apart from maybe the pub itself, the ale, a real fire, the toilets, a bag of crisps....) okay but seriously, they shape all the best days out, especially when I'm travelling alone which is how I most like BRAPA to be honest.  And in Chequers in Wrestlingworth, I found myself in a spot of bother as I was in rural East Bedfordshire with no bus, no phone signal, and 6 miles from civilisation.  It was a new barmaid's first day so she struggled to help (the other staff were allegedly burying a body in the garden), but engaged the barfly locals in chat about it only to realise there are no taxi services in the area either!  Luckily, Tony, a chap who may well have had about 10 pints, drove me to Sandy and introduced me to all his "friends" at the William Peel  and then made me go to a pre-emptive Greene King tick too.  Awfully good of him, even if he didn't lock my bag in his car because "people from Sandy are honest", hmmm.  Honorable mentions to the two elderly chaps at Chequers in Wootton who drove me to Kempston as I'd lost track of time a bit(!)  Also to everyone at the Puzzle Hall in Sowerby Bridge who were so friendly and chatty, I got a pork pie out of it and handed a record number of BRAPA cards out to strangers.  And to Ossett Lizzie who was so friendly when I visited the Bingley Arms in Horbury Bridge.

9.  Outdoor Drinking Experience of the Year - Winner - Golden Fleece, Bradshaw

When I was picturing a beer festival in the garden of my own "Moon Under Water" (i.e. perfect pub), the Green Owl, I was drawing most inspiration from here.  It was still quite early in the year but unlike summer, the weather was glorious in rural Halifax land, and I was soon enjoying glorious dark ales from the Revolutions brewery which all have reference to bands/musicians.  Plus they had a local beer for about £1.50 a pint or something crazy.  Even a strange young man who lied on the bench next to me talking angrily to himself couldn't spoil it as the pub garden seemed at one with the fields behind where sheep grazed and farmers toiled in the heat.  I could've stayed a lot longer!  Honorable mentions must go to some other superb, almost worthy winners, in Falcon, Arncliffe the Red Lion in Fenny Stratford, Brewers Pride in Ossett and March Hare in Dunton. Any of those could've won on another year with less strong competition.

Idyllic outdoor drinking at the Golden Fleece.

8.  Midweek Night of the Year - Winner - West of Wakefield, Tues 6th October

The standard of West Yorkshire pubs never fails to stagger me, especially when compared to North Yorkshire and Bedfordshire (just getting a dig in there) and my Tuesday evenings after work have nearly always been a joy with some breathtaking pubs and beers.  What set 6th October apart was that it went above and beyond good.  First, I bumped into Bryan (work's biggest ale fan) who told me about his own Amsterdam BRAPA style challenge, he then had great local knowledge to help me negotiate Wakefield, a pleasing session at Little Bull, Middlestown and then despite a shortish walk to the magnificent Bingley Arms, Horbury Bridge, the heaven's opened to reveal the biggest and most dramatic thunderstorm of the year, plus the pub was on a little old bridge over the river.  Before you could say "Elland!  Tadcaster!" I had crossed a death trap of a road, a crazy but nice old man at the bar told me how he hated everyone in the pub, then I warmed myself up on the fantastic fire, a docile dog Brian fell asleep on my feet and a nice lady called Ossett Lizzie chatted to me (coincidentally) about Ossett brewery and made me feel very welcome with the thunder crashing around.  I just caught my bus with a second to spare and was back in Wakefield for a pint from Five Towns in Harry's Bar, and it was one of the pints of the year (but not eligible for a BRAPA award sadly, as if they care!)

Torrential rain as I cross the road to the magnificent Bingley Arms

7.  Pub Moment of the Year - Winner - Game Cock, Austwick

This is all about that 'most contented' moment of the day, which I tend to mainly notice on my solo missions and often happens in pubs where I haven't expected a great deal from.  Austwick was a prime example of this, sounding like some horrific Thwaites gastropub in the GBG but actually having a fantastic bar area.  I got sat in a raised but above where I could see what was going on, feel like part of the 'scene', but also smuggle a scotch egg or two despite a dangerous looking corridor looming to my left, where knives and forks clattered and pristine white shirted 12 year old waitresses scurried up and down their warrens like Watership Down outcasts.  So benevolent was my mood that I gave up my entire upper area for a couple who were wanting food but struggling to get comfy on those silly barrel tables in the bar (there was no room down the corridor).  Altruism is supposed to make you feel good, but reality hit when I realised no one really gave a shit.  Back in the main bar, people just carried on scowling and drinking their £4 Wainwright, it is rural North Yorkshire after all.  But for one moment, I couldn't have been more content!  Similar moments of joy were encountered at both Bedford Arms in Souldrop and Morning Star in Lincoln, mainly due to real fires and nice people.

A great pub moment awaits in Austwick, North Yorks.

6.  BRAPA Staff Award - Winner - White Swan, Danby Wiske

Rewind to a snowy January lunchtime in the villages around Northallerton (yes, I KNOW it is rural North Yorkshire before you say anything!), and it was probably the most sociable BRAPA day of the year, but one of the most expensive as a dearth of buses meant I used taxis mainly (walking wasn't an option on that ice and snow).  The landlord here was just so good, he welcomed me like a long lost son, gave me a history of the pub, showed me books and explained about the local CAMRA, talked about the lack of trade and how only when coast to coast walkers come in do they do very well.  He then topped it off by offering to nip over the road and get his wife to make me a sandwich,  Now that doesn't happen in Wetherspoons!  Okay, so he then left me with his mute sidekick and I had time to reflect on the scary prospect of pubs like this dying, but wow, what a great chap.  Loads of honorary mentions, here's the three best I can think of .... Black Lion in Leighton Buzzard, lovely camp chap, had a beer fest on, I said I was only here for drink and didn't want to join, but still took me through the ENTIRE menu, gave me tasters of about 10, and then when I fell asleep in a 10% stout, he gave me a glass of water to bring me round whilst locals looked on sympathetically in what was "most embarrassing BRAPA moment of the year.  King William IV, Nottingham, wow what a way to start a fantastic pub day out and the young ginger haired landlord was such a lovely chap, he improved an already superb pub by being great, explaining the ales, showing us the beer garden on the roof, and giving us his local knowledge about other great Nottingham pubs.  And also, Plough in Bolnhurst which looked horrifically gastro but despite me being the only non diner, they helped me get out through a conservatory door I shouldn't have done, kept bringing me bowls of crisps and smiling.  I wish every food pub treated their drinkers like this, very rare!

Inside the homely and now award winning(!) White Swan, Danby Wiske

5.  BRAPA Worst Staff of the Year Award - Arden Arms, Stockport

I'd been so looking forward to this heritage pub having read about it in my new book, after all, Bath Hotel in Sheffield had been wonderful so what could go wrong here, especially as the pub looked gorgeous and the pumps seemed to be inside the bar which must be rare.  Space was at a premium on a lunchtime, with a few old locals happy to lean on the bar and chat to the staff.  Two visitors like us didn't want to, sat in a quiet room to the back, but were moved for invisible diners - it was madness and when the landlord told us we could "sit on the stairs", it was not a joke that we found particularly funny and I thought Dad was going to clothes line him on the way out.  Luckily, the day massively improved after that.  Dishonorable mentions should go to the Dolphin  in Robin Hood's Bay which was a microcosm of all that is wrong with touristy pubs - too lazy to get open and cleaned up on time but had door open so shouted at me for going in, and when they finally did open, served everyone at about one mile an hour plus it was a very average pub anyway.  The Works in Sowerby Bridge for somehow making me feel the least welcome in any pub all year, the Dog & Gun in Wolverhampton, more on that place later and the Nag's Head in Preston, East Yorkshire who had the surliest barmaid of the year who is so mean, she seemed to be trying to freeze the local pensioners to death by not putting any heating on and barking at Dad for not knowing J20 flavours off by heart.  Rubbish!

Dad with a sense of foreboding as we enter the Arden Arms

4.  BRAPA Worst Pint of the Year Award - Haven Arms, Hedon

Other people who've been here have been quite complimentary of the beer here, so I guess we just got unlucky but I can only judge it on my own experience.  After all, some very enthusiastic locals at the bar were lapping them all up, even I think recommending stuff.  So we went for a "Golden Pair" which we thought was a take on the word "Pear" which would explain the weird fruity fermented taste so we struggled through three quarters of it thinking we were having a very specialist Perry until Untappd revealed the truth, so a bit unlucky in that we otherwise may have taken it back straight away, got it exchanged, and started again with this memory all but erased.  As you'd expect from the GBG, beer quality has generally been spot on, even when I might be choosing an ale I'm not that fond of.  Another stand out poor experience was the New Inn at Thornton, near Bradford where not only me, but a couple of locals were also having pints exchanged, and not even the same ale.  There seemed to be a lot of Acorn (Barnsley) beers on and these were all well kept so one conspiracy was that they were doing it deliberately to 'do down' the guest brews.  Well, I wasn't convinced by that, no evidence they were even tied to Acorn, and in any case, it was out of the GBG for 2016.  Another I might mention is Grants in Accrington, they brew their own 'Big Clock' beers, staff and locals were ace, it was cosy if modern, smelt of mash (NOT potato) but the beers were all disgusting!

Happy me - before I drank my worst BRAPA pint of the year.

3.  BRAPA Pint of the Year Award - Sam Smith's OBB, Victoria Hotel, Thornton Cleveleys

You might think I am being contrary but whilst at the Punk Festival in Blackpool, I took a trip on the tram up this way, found a stunning huge pub (they have some great pubs do the evil SS) and despite the barmaid disappearing for an age despite much bell ringing, she returned with the finest pints of OBB me and Krzb Britain had ever tasted, and living in York, we have tried a lot!  So strong, so flavoursome, and when I returned home to 'red pen' my GBG, I discovered that it comes straight from the cask which must explain it.  We went to another Sam's house in Bispham straight after and the contrast was stark, despite their being nothing wrong with the Sam's.  I could also have done this category scientifically, and seen what I gave the highest rating to on Untappd.  That would be a pint of Chocolate and Vanilla Stout I had in Rutland Arms, Sheffield with Dad in January,  Amazing pub too.  Another pint that had me purring was a Windswept from Lossiemouth in the Moorings (Krakatoa) in Aberdeen - it was purple and fruity but because I was under a neon light at the time, I couldn't tell the difference til it hit my lips - amazing taste sensation and I don't even like fruit beer much!

Me about to taste my BRAPA Pint of the Year

2.  BRAPA Worst Pub of the Year Award - Dog & Gun, Wolverhampton

It's a total no-brainer this year, a bit like everyone associated with this poor excuse for a pub in the Tettenhall district of the city (not worth the walk).  No wonder the good but frankly overrated Hail to the Ale is/was a contender for CAMRA pub of the year.  It was me and Tom and from the outset it looked like some identikit chain nonsense.  Whilst Tom went to the loo, I tried to get served.  Nearly all the beers were "settling in the cellar".  Not "coming soon" or "not available", it's not much good to me if it's settling in a cellar, you may as well tell me it's on holiday in Timbuktu.  Tom told me all Ember Inns were crap, I told him this was a sweeping generalisation based on poor Grimsby experiences but this pub did nothing to assuage his fears.  No staff were in sight, I was stood there about 10 mins and when she did turn up, she had an air of mild threat about her - the pub was pretty busy which made the lack of staff even more surprising.  Only sitting outdoors in the sun could save us now, whilst some horsey students asked the staff to move their wine because they were too much in the shade, as we sat on horrible wicker chairs with a rope seemingly stopping us from dropping into the car park and breaking our necks which would have been preferable than two minutes more here.  And then the ultimate as a perfectly innocent young couple got grabbed by the throat by a bouncer who'd appeared from nowhere (this was mid afternoon by the way), the chavvy barmaid egged on the bouncer as he "threatened to firebomb their house!" in full view of us all outside - it was simply horrific from start to finish.  It's not in the 2016 GBG.  Two other pubs which I also found incredibly shite on my trip were the Albion in Skipton and the Bay Horse in Great Heck, you know when you just wonder how a pub ever got in the GBG in the first place.

How little I knew about what was about to unfurl in the pub behind me!

1.  BRAPA Pub of the Year ......

And so it is with great pleasure that I once again say that it is IMPOSSIBLE to pick a winner in this category so I've been through my entire list and jotted down a few that really made me think "wow" whilst I was there - probably because they combined someof the following factors - great beer / great proper pub atmos / great staff / great clientele / top toilets / top snacks / top garden / cosy hubbub.  Well, here's a short shortlist ...... 

Strugglers, Lincoln.  Grill, Aberdeen.  Moorings, Aberdeen.  Boot and Shoe, Ellerton.  Puzzle Hall, Sowerby Bridge.  Sair, Linthwaite.  White Swan, Stokesley.  Goodmanham Arms, Goodmanham, Peacock, Derby, Beer in Hand, Hereford, Bingley Arms, Horbury Bridge,  Bath Hotel, Sheffield.  Nags Head, Loxley.  Pelton Arms, East Greenwich.  Birch Hall Inn, Beck Hole.  Whelans, Asselby.  King William IV, Nottingham.  Old Tom's, Gracechurch Street.

And the winner (just), is Boot & Shoe in Ellerton, I was just gobsmacked when we walked in here in the most remote village ever to find such a bustling happy scene, their own beers, a tree growing through the pub, funny locals, a really old fashioned style serving hatch, and the news Hull City were losing did not sadden me even 1%!  Wonderful, how it got de-guided I'll never know (well, I will if I ask my Hull CAMRA pub officer friend) but congrats.

Me posing at the 2015 BRAPA Pub of the Year

Thanks for sticking with it til the end, see you soon for more pub reviews!

Si

BRAPA - Beckwithshaw, North Rigton, Sicklinghall.

Surprise, surprise, it was pouring with rain as we arrived at the car park of our first pub just a couple of minutes before 11am opening, Dad back on his BRAPA chauffeur duties which served me so well in 2015.

I wouldn't have fancied the walk in this weather, and Dad's SatNav which has an excellent sense of humour had us on winding, hilly country lanes, thick fog and at one point, "flying slop" as an old woman shovelled some muck into the street and looked outraged as our car nearly collided with it.

777.  Smiths Arms, Beckwithshaw

We sheltered from the rain in the entrance until the 11:01am official opening, but when the barman unlocked the door, he didn't even register a surprised smile to see us standing there - maybe it happens every day, or more likely, we are in rural North Yorkshire meaning of course that bar staff are not allowed to be friendly and they are doing YOU are favour for simply existing (I'd like to state this isn't true once you get as far north as, say, Northallerton).   Another rural North Yorkshire tell tale sign was the "geared up for food" feel with the kind of chairs and tables that were never designed for pubs, though comfy enough.  The warmth and log fire, plus a decent pint of Yorkshire Gold and some good conversation actually meant this turned out to be a good pub experience, though a mirror menacingly advertising Valentines Day meals made me realise that I was glad we were in on a wet Saturday morning, having the place to ourselves, and the fleet of cars arriving just as we were leaving only reinforced that.

A happy pub scene at the Smiths Arms

2.75 miles to the west (you can't fault my maths!), and we were in North Rigton which looked to be a beautiful village, quite picture postcard.  Dad had taken Mummy Ev on a 'date' night here some 42 years ago but any thoughts of it being unchanged in the intervening time were always unlikely.  

Dad pops up after 42 years in the wilderness

778.  Square & Compass, North Rigton

As predicted, a young waitress tried to thrust a menu into our hands on arrival. I said "we're only here for a drink if that's okay?" and luckily we weren't ejected, and there was no rugby tackling me to the floor a la Guinea in Moggerhanger.  Our barman wasn't very good at counting money but the beer range was slightly wider here, I like Ilkely so went for a nice standard Joshua Jane though sadly I started to get vinegar as it got towards the bottom.  The place had a light welcoming feel with more ridiculously 'non-pub' furniture, but it has to be said it was quite soulless and Dad couldn't recognise it from his 70's visit.  Groups of middle aged women and excitable kids did nothing for the atmos, though Dad was jealous of one girl's Frozen leggings which are now on next year's Christmas list.  Finding the toilets was like undertaking a slalom, dodging chairs and tables, they were hidden away with the pub going in a large circle, reminding me a bit of the Falcon pub near Clapham Junction.  And talking of the loos, the decor of women's bum cheeks seemed uninkeeping with the rest of the pub's feel.  Similar loo decor in York's Phoenix works a lot better.  I don't think this will be a pub of the year contender, but at least the staff gave us a cheery farewell which always gives a bonus point in my eyes. 

Time for a cheeky snap in North Rigton

Our final new pub was west of Wetherby, in the even harder to reach Sicklinghall which doesn't seem to have a bus service so another great 'tick' to get done by road.  

779.  Scotts Arms, Sicklinghall

This was more typical of a traditional pub, I was pleased to note, and a separate upper drinking area to the left meant we didn't need to mix with downstairs diners, which was fine because for now, it was mini cheddars and Tim Taylor Landlord all round.  One of those pubby quotes on an old beam proclaimed "poor and content is rich enough", whoever wrote that hadn't order 2 pints and 2 pack of mini cheddars in here as I called my bank to arrange a mortgage.  The place reminded me a bit of Chequers in Ledsham as middle aged locals kept arriving in Jags and Barbour jacket, swaggering around with an air of self importance, or as though they belonged in an episode of Midsomer Murders.  The bar though did boast one of the best selections of proper old fashioned sweets I'd ever witnessed in a GBG pub and had the mortgage come through, I'd have stretched to some dolly mixtures.  In pub terms, this was the nicest of the three, but once again, the (usually reliable) Tim Taylor Landlord had gone all sulphury three quarters of the way down.  

Sweets in the Scotts Arms

We'd done so well time-wise and with bacon sandwiches waiting at home, we had time to drop in to York's wonderful Fox on Holgate Road which was neglected for years despite being an obviously amazing building, full of little rooms.  Since it's takeover by Ossett, it now has amazing beer too plus friendly staff, but then again, York isn't technically in North Yorkshire.  If this had been a BRAPA tick, it would be an early contender for pub of the year.

A pint of Rum for Cover in the Fox, amazing and very strong Lambs Navy taste!

And that was that, bacon sandwiches and a bit of Soccer Saturday and we'll now wait to see what Hull City get in round 4.  It'll have to be something pretty amazing (away to a lower league club who don't bore me!)  to stop us having another day like this.  

Meanwhile, next week could be quite momentous with plans to finish both West Yorkshire and Bedfordshire for the first time, fingers crossed.

Si

BRAPA - Wuthering Heights in Bronte Country

"Out on the winding, windy moors, we roll and fall in green" I'm singing the Alan Partridge version rather than Kate Bush as I write this, but I'll spare you the karaoke session.

Determined to crack on with BRAPA in the new year (probably a reaction to all this dry January nonsense), I found myself squashed like a sardine on the notorious Leeds-Skipton commuter train after work, where I was after my penultimate West Yorkshire pub tick.

Standing to Keighley and then walking to the bus station was not good for the recovering ankle (which I'm not mentioning) but the whole evening was fraught with risk, as buses to and from Stanbury stop running before 6pm, leaving me potentially stranded, but this adds to the adventure!

This was my first visit to Keighley bus station and with muzak even more serene than the Huddersfield equivalent, I soon found myself dozing off in a berth at Stop L, only to be woken by the bus engine starting up ready to blast off into Bronte country.

The bus was quite busy but once we'd negotiated Haworth (nice to see it tourist free in the dark for a change!), I was the only passenger left and pressed a bell before the driver terminated me first!  The pub was luckily just across the road.

776.  Wuthering Heights Inn, Stanbury

 If I'd had my pre-emptive crystal ball with me on Yorkshire Day 2014, I'd have visited this at the same time as the solid Friendly and the now de-guided anti-climactical Old Silent Inn.  The pub name seemed to playing on the Bronte thang, so I was expecting some below average food orientated tourist hole,  How glad I was then to walk in and see two old locals, a dog and a bored looking landlord in a small cosy low beamed lounge with a wood burner in the corner.  The dog, George, made the biggest impression as he drank water very loudly from a bowl on the hearth which must have been a lot warmer than my excellently kept Blonde Witch, served happily in the appropriate Moorhouses glass.  However, I only had to glance to the right to remember not all was proper old locals pub as a laptop had been hastily set up so visitors could watch a 'Samuel Goldwyn Wuthering Heights' presentation.  The locals were quietly friendly but the landlord looked suspiciously at me, especially when I eyed up his smiley blonde daughter who'd come to work behind the bar and bent down to stroke George.  I couldn't relax fully ala Kirk Smeaton as I had no phone signal or bus back, so as I went outside to phone for a taxi, I conducted a social experiment and left my GBG and BRAPA paraphernalia on the table for all to see, so when I came back in, they could engage me in conversation.  It didn't happen!  Even more unlikely, the taxi chap hadn't even heard of the Wuthering Heights but when I said it was on the same street as the Friendly, he knew exactly what I meant.  15 minutes later, he'd arrived and I said my thanks and farewell, handed my glass to mine miserable host, and left for good.

Great pint, wood burner, docile dog (just out of shot) - what more do you need? 

Despite not being a 'pub man' the taxi driver was a great chap and I definitely recommend Oxford Cars if you are stranded in the area.  I was back in York (via Leeds) for 8:30pm which I could've only dreamed of when I was envisaging wild, windy walks to Haworth and beyond in the dark!  

Only one West Yorkshire pub left then, hopefully next Tuesday/Wednesday, can hardly wait.  I was in this position last August but Wetherby's Muse and the 2015 GBG was cruelly snatched away from me on that occasion! 

Stanley here we come! 

And whilst we are on the subject of midweek BRAPA, I've identified 3 North Yorkshire trips I can do on evenings before we crack on with South Yorkshire in February.

See you soon, Si

  

BRAPA - Pubbing in East London, Oi Oi, Oi.

2016 pub ticking gets underway in London.

My challenge to visit every Good Beer Guide pub kicked off for the 2016 season down in t'smoke, though in true BRAPA style, things were difficult from the outset.

I was due to travel via L**ds (something about an amended ticket that's too complicated to explain here) but the 06:52 from York to L**ds was cancelled meaning that I wouldn't make my connection. I therefore had to beg the train guard to let me on the 07:01 direct to London instead, which he did with the air of a man who was doing me a "massive favour"(I was booked in first class too but now felt too guilty to use this hospitality!)

Cancelled train woes in York.

I took advantage of the unexpected early arrival at Kings Cross to ensure a bonus 'early opener' was visited, and with the Oyster system down, tube travel was, for now at least, free.

770.  Masque Haunt, Old Street

So the first BRAPA 'tick' of 2016 and quite an inauspicious start.  A friendly Aussie-Chinese barmaid (temporarily making her 'barmaid of the year 2016') served me a ginger flavoured ale, I chose it solely because the pump clip was upside down.  No science to my methods.  £2.70 despite using my new batch of 'Spoons vouchers reminded me I was down south,  I made up for my lack of first class breakfast, and ordered the Eggs Benedict which was tepid, a bit like the pub temperature, and the limp lettuce accompaniment did nothing to help.  A sign on all the tables warned customer "Watch Your Bag!" making this perhaps the most dishonest JDW houses in the UK.   Even some of the chairs had the pub name on.  Still, I now know that Old Street is not like a 15th century time warp area like I'd imagined, and Dad had caught me up so we made a hasty retreat for pub two before he'd have time to get comfy (if getting comfy had been possible here).

Watching my bag very carefully, who needs table numbers? 

After a trek to Liverpool Street across an ice rink(!) to test out the ever improving ankle (which I'm not going to mention), we were soon at Stratford but our problems had only just begun as we had no idea whereabouts in the soulless Westfield Shopping Centre the pub actually was.  A nightmare 10 minutes followed where an Australian woman apologised for standing on the wrong side of the escalator because she was visiting her long lost sister - I honestly couldn't care less!  

Pubs in Shopping centres eh?  There aren't many of them and I used to absolutely LOVE the Cork & Cheese in Southend, alas I fear it is no more as it was always under threat when I visited and not heard about it for ages now.  

771.  Tap East, Westfield Stratford City

When we finally found it, it reminded me of Micro Bar in Manchester's Arndale Centre, an open bar area in the shopping centre rather than a separate building in it's own right.  Tom, who'd sneaked in through a glass door at the back, commented it didn't have the charm of the Micro Bar but I actually think they've made a good job of making it as cosy, quirky and characterful as possible under the circumstances.  They brew their own beer for heaven's sake and with the brewing equipment on display, we tried a strong red ale which blew our socks off.  The staff had facial expressions set to 'sycophantic robot' mode, in-keeping with the Westfield, but at least they smiled.  Good seats were hard to come by, a point which Dad was keen to exclaim very loudly at the bar, so we snuck into a settee next to an angry ruddy faced local who tried to ignore our inane conversations.  I think it's easy to slag off this place, but I can see it's charm, and would return, but maybe via St Pancras and Stratford International instead!  

Me in the Tap East bar area.

A couple of stops on the DLR as we were at Bow Church, and had a fair hike to our next pub.  Bow seems one of the friendliest, most 'real' parts of London I've visited so far and although I didn't hear any bells ringing, there was a little street closed off to a market, a bakery, lots of smiling passers by.

772.  Eleanor Arms, Bow

And isn't it true that arriving at a pub in a positive frame of mind like this (rather than through the Westfield) will make you feel more kindly towards a pub from the outset?  Obviously.  Anyway, this was unlike any other pub we visited today in that it was a proper no nonsense back street locals local, with a jolly round landlord overseeing everything, and walking down a thin creaking old corridor to the loo past a lot of chatting locals has almost become a novelty factor in London for me.  The pub seemed tied to Shepherd Neame, first time in ages I've been in one of their pubs, I always think of that fantastic East India Arms in the city.  The Whitstable Pale was perfectly decent.  We must have been having animated pub-geek style conversations, as the landlord soon brought us round a huge book to look at, "London Brewed", a superb huge heavy encyclopedic effort put together with much love by people who are passionate about pubs in London.  Don't try telling me pubs are no longer relevant in today's society!  On the way out, the landlord and some locals tried to advise us to get a number 8 bus to our next pub, which would have been better probably, but Tom wanted to visit the bakery and it's always good to "stick to what you know" when you are in a strange land! 

Arriving at the Eleanor, strategically placed in front of the bin.

We this time walked back to Bow Road and were soon in Whitechapel, a place that always excites me as I've read that many Jack the Ripper books, I'd consider myself something of a trainee Ripperologist!  

773.  White Hart, Whitechapel

We arrived just at the wrong moment as a huge group (including an old woman who had to be wheeled in, how dare she?!) and had to virtually queue to get in, so Dad, more curmudgeonly than a pub curmudgeon, declared "it's going to be the worst pub of the day!" and having no patience whatsoever, he broke in through an unlikely back door.  Once inside, the clientele was a lot younger than we'd been used to, but upbeat staff and superb beers from One Mild End brewery (underneath the pub or something mysterious) meant Dad was happy to retract his words.  A welcoming table had been vacated next to a large window giving the pub a nice airy feel, but whoever had turned the radiators up had seriously misjudged this mild winter.  So, not that airy then!  Annoyingly, the large group were all ordering lager which makes no sense when the likes of Temperance Session, Salvation and Hospital Porter are looking so welcoming.  To help Tom and Dad get a sense of the atmosphere, I read them the (hoax) 'Dear Boss' letter in a sinister voice, just to enhance the experience.  Sure they appreciated it.  

Dad indicates the White Hart, note the group entering, about to upset him! 

Back on the tube and one stop north, we were at Shoreditch High Street which was a short walk in the pouring rain to our fifth pub of the day ......

774.  Crown & Shuttle, Spitalfields

Oh dear, well it was always likely to happen that we'd visit a less good pub sooner or later, and this pretentious nonsense was evident as soon as you'd read the food menu on a blackboard outside.  "Cheese Mint Slaw", "Brioche Buns", "Salad of Giant Couscous", "Pink Grapefruit & Pomegranate", "Barbecue Turkey Succotash Salad" .... I'm a working lad from Yorkshire and I want a Chippy Tea!!  (with apologies to the Lancashire Hotpots).  The bar was split into two distinct areas, but despite the length of it, only two handpumps were on offer and about 500 keg beers.  The clientele were young, bearded, with skinny roll up jeans, back tattoos of Jackson Pollock art, and man bags containing biographies about Japanese Rockabilly.  Probably.  The toilet walls were clad in sackcloth, which was probably supposed to be cool but just seemed unhygienic.  People were there to be seen, rather than just 'come to the pub'.  We managed to jump in the graves a very slowly vacating group, and Dad read us a great Bill Bryson paragraph about how Mount Everest was named which was a welcome distraction.  The GBG states the pub once had "an unsavoury reputation", I wish I'd visited it back then.  You could see it was a nice building, so a real shame!  

I might not have a beard, but I have a snazzy red hat! 

A short walk towards Liverpool Street took us to our final pub, down a little side street where a rubbish van was trying to mow us down .......

775.  Williams Ale & Cider House, Spitalfields

Ah, this was much more like it!  We were greeted with a cheery "Happy New Year!" from friendly barman, a young Ahmed Elmohamady if you like, but harder working.  The amount of ales on show was stunning, and I didn't get to see three quarters of them until I'd already ordered my Hop Stuff Saisonniers which tasted nothing like a Saison but was great.  Again, it was a lively young vibe with some funky music playing (a little bit too loud, one of our group complained) and everyone was having a great time as a group behind us had one of the most dramatic games of Jenga ever.  I like board games in pubs, I think there were a few from what Tom said, someone was playing Connect 4 too,  We sat in a raised comfy booth, and I had to admit I regretted my decision not to make everyone come here for a West Ham away game a year or two ago.  After the last pub, we decided a menu comparison was required, a lot more acceptable on the whole, but the price of a bowl of mixed leaves rose from £3 to £3.50 whilst we were in the pub - now that's inflation.  

Last pub of the day!  Williams in Spitalfields.

There'd been some vague hopes of getting to a new pre-emptive pub near Kings Cross called the Scottish Stores which sounds amazing, but plenty of opportunity to do that.  Instead, with train times fast approaching, we settled for the obligatory Parcel Yard swift half.

On the way back, I made up for not using my First Class ticket on the way down by eating a tonne of sandwiches, crisps and snacks.  A bit of drama ensued as the milk went off, I said that I couldn't tell the difference to which 'Katrina' screwed up her nose and said "ugh, well I wouldn't drink it!"

Si