When the first green haired, pagan, vegan, lesbian settlers came to Hebden Bridge in the year 1510, bringing with them a hippie culture, the ability to open shops selling crystals and incense for ridiculous sums of money, before retiring to run a cattery, with a bit of paranormal investigation on the side, who'd have thought that in the year 2017, they would be more "relevant" than ever?
Not that I'm stereotyping the good folk of Hebden Bridge, it is a lovely place and am always pleased to see a new GBG pub to visit, which invariably happens every edition. But not too lovely as to be twee, the kids in the park try their best to be threatening along the old canal, and there were signs that people from Coatbridge and Airdrie were holidaying here .....
So I'd probably say that the micropub fits in with Hebden culture, and this one was an absolute cracker despite a shaky start .....
1034. Calan's Micropub, Hebden Bridge
Friday evening isn't the best time to enter a micropub (or any pub for that matter) and I was wedged in the entrance door for 5 minutes behind a hairy rugged man (seen above striding purposefully into the pub). He was the most 'real' customer, the wait was for 5 middle aged women making a song and dance over, you've guessed it, a Prosecco order, but mercifully, they read my mind and pissed off into the cold courtyard. A man covered in dust and soot came in behind me to swell the numbers of 'proper pub goers' to a massive three, he joked if he could order "4 quarters" of ale - I didn't get it, because I thought this is EXACTLY the kind of thing a place like this'd do! After all, you see three thirds often enough. Just as I got served, a seat became available and with Messrs Hairball and Sooty happier to block the floor space than sit down, I darted into it. I was opposite a watchful middle aged couple, the hubbie had a broken foot and it was up on a chair, stopping me from getting a good look at, or photo, or the impressive GBG selection that dated back to 1978. To my left, a couple with a bored dog kept nervously glancing over - all I could do was admire the pump clips and wall decor, it was a bit cheek to jowl but there was a great warmth to the hubbub, and to enjoy a Friday evening here was testament to what a good little pub this is. I also managed to nick THREE beermats for my collection, no need for emergency ones here!
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| Mr Hairball (nice chap) inspects his pint and I try and avoid eye contact with all |
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| An impressive selection of GBG's (the missing ones are nothing to do with my thieving mitts!) |
It was back home quite early as I had a "bonus" Saturday trip to fit in before Sunday's main event in North Yorkshire. Oh, and only one week til I can have a shower again!
Si
Your first paragraph is a brilliant piece of writing >^..^< :-)
ReplyDeleteI second that comment.
DeleteThirded.
DeleteAre there different types of Prosecco then? I'd always assumed that the way to order it was to say to the barman/maid "x pint(s) of prosecco please", hand over £3.00, receive drink, job done. Unless there is a need to get more Prosecco from the cellar, I don't see how it is possible to spin that out for longer than about 30 seconds.
I'm sure when we lose away at Bastard City next season I'll be able to find a bored copper who would otherwise stand around doing nothing to arrest you for the theft of three beermats from the area covered by his constabulary.
Whilst going via Dewsbury is preferable and quicker than dropping into Drabford, but other than the possibility of the pub visit, which I presume isn't programmed in, changing there is a bit of an odd move unless there is an avoid possibility of a footbridge setting.
One would think you would have had an advantage on these people having not had the ability to shower!
ReplyDeleteSuperb literary skills, and great good humour. Sent me off to bye byes in the best of moods. Thank you.
ReplyDelete