BRAPA - Cleveland Rocks!

It was a grey May Saturday morning as escaped Tour De Yorkshire in York to arrive in the market town of Stokesley.  This was the latest leg of the 'North Yorkshire challenge', where I'm trying to tick off every pub in the Good Beer Guide in this incredibly vast & varied county.  Living in York does NOT make it any easier.  Alphabetically speaking, Carlton-in-Cleveland was the next in the book, so it was a case of combining that with other nearby pubs.

Arriving into Carlton, the main focus of today's BRAPA pub ticking.

Like so many North Yorks trips, I found myself (rather randomly) getting a bus from outside the Buck Inn in Northallerton, or did I, as the entire town centre had been consumed by a temporary fairground, including dodgems and a very impressive looking ghost train!  Luckily, I had time to spare to locate the replacement stop.  The true course of BRAPA never runs smoothly.....

636 - Spread Eagle, Stokesley - Despite a slight delay, I was in Stokesley for 11:30am with a bitter wind whipping around the town.  Stokesley was in that blueprint of traditional North East market town with one long main street, market stalls, cobbled areas, and most importantly,  traditional pubs!  This first one took too long to get warmed up, literally, as the wood burner had been lacking in attention and despite the month of May upon us, it was freezing.  This was a Marston's tied pub so the ale was limited, but the Hobgoblin Gold was a contender for pint of the day, such was it's quality.  I've been in plenty of Spread Eagle's but this is the first where I've seen actual spread eagle carpet, a happy quirk!  As the customers started to arrive for lunch, the wood burner was given a poke (or whatever they do), a couple of barmaids said 'hi' to me so staff points there, whilst an old man told an anecdote about Jo Brand and naming children.  I helped three old women wearing dark glasses (the granny mafia?) to move a very heavy iron table, and they'd just sat down as I finished my pint - nothing personal ladies, I can assure you.  

Spread Eagle - right in the middle of Stokesley market place

The sun had briefly appeared so I took a gentle stroll along the pretty River Leven, chatting to a few ducks on the way, wondering if they'd appreciate some real ale to go with the bread that kids were indiscriminately chucking at them.  Time for my next pub.

637 - White Swan, Stokesley - This pub is home of the 'Captain Cook' brewery, and one of the most pleasing asides of BRAPA is the opportunity to try new ales I don't normally see in York.  Right from the off, this pub oozed quality with a lovely welcoming huge fire I got myself in front of and a lovely old fashioned furnished feel, gentle old-style music topped off the perfect ambiance and the staff were friendly.  I went for a Black Porter, and it felt a bit like it was 10:30pm, such was my relaxed state.  In truth, I could have chosen from 7 or 8 ales, mainly Captain Cook ones.  A man near me ordered a very nourishing looking pie - but as usual, my schedule was too tight to take such liberties.  The pub started to fill up, the clientele quite diverse but nice to see quite a few younger drinkers coming in.  Pub of the day?  I'd say probably so.  

A pint of local brew in front of the fire at the White Swan

The original intention had been to walk the 4 miles from Stokesley to the pretty little village of Hutton Rudby, but my earlier bus had shown me a lack of pavement of a busy road.  This combined with my tight schedule, further long walks and the weather (now spitting with rain) meant a taxi made sense.  I had some chat with my female taxi driver about Tour De Yorkshire but being a woman, she had to concentrate hard on her driving (I'm joking!) so it was a bit sporadic.  

638 - King's Head, Hutton Rudby - We were back on with the Marston's here, this time I went for a Sunbeam which for me, is the Hobgoblin Gold of Banks'.  Not sure I enjoyed this quite as much but this could be due to how cold the pub was, if anywhere needed a fire or wood burner, it was in the long main bar, but the barmaid knew it so I didn't labour the point.  I was the only customer in, and she was a nice friendly easy young lass to chat to despite her lack of love for football meaning she couldn't join me in laughing at Newcastle Utd (2-0 down v Leicester within minutes).  On a different note, she admitted her friend fancied Ed Milliband and was one of his twitter Milli-babes or whatever they are called.  The outside area looked good, they even have a TV out there for the smokers, and apparently a snug area but I didn't get that far.  A local chap came in to watch the match, so I felt a bit less bad about leaving the pub.  Must be hard for these little village pubs to drum up trade, so I can only hope this one was thriving by 3pm.

King's Head's are always better when they are Henry VIII instead of Richard III

639 - Blackwell Ox Inn, Carlton-in-Cleveland - A long but rewarding 2.5 miles later, I was in Carlton on the edge of a national park, I'd go as far as to say I actually enjoyed the walk, especially as the pub at the end of it was the key one of the day.  Like so many rural North Yorks pubs I've visited since BRAPA began, there was a real 'food leaning' here and the constant clatter of cutlery and various conflabs between barmaids, chef and watiresses seemed to back this up.  Having said that, the majority of diners were 'coming soon' with reserved tables being set out, and it was reasonably quiet with just a few couples winding down after lunch.  The beer range was decent, and I had a Roosters ale which with a name like 'Blackwell' must have been brewed specially for the pub.  I was feeling my least sociable here, so retired to a raised area and smuggled a protest chicken n stuffing roll I'd earlier bought from Thomas the Bakers in Northallerton!  The crumbs gave me away.  Amazingly I had a phone reception so could do a bit of 'housekeeping' before I went on my way.

Beautiful scenery, decent pub - page 4 of the North Yorks section of the GBG complete! 

640 - Black Swan, Kirkby-in-Cleveland - I finished with a flourish here after a slow start to life in the Black Swan.  It had been another fair 2 plus mile walk, and some locals at the bar had seen my walking some some recognition of my dedication to BRAPA at least.  It felt very much a locals local when I first arrived, and I took my pint of Wainstone's Kirkby (presumably again a house beer) to a bench seat where I then shuffled backwards and forwards to try and see the scores coming through on Soccer Saturday, which maddeningly were not going well for Hull City!  Typical.  My ale itself, whilst great quality, was a bit too bitter for my taste (which is rare for me), surely I hadn't had enough already?!  I then started talking to locals and staff alike, my first opportunity in ages to explain BRAPA and it was so nice to have such a pleasing end to my day out, especially as it allowed me the chance to hand out my 'cards' which I'm still not always remembering to leave in pubs.  Definitely the friendliest pub of my trip, and it probably felt as real and homely as any today, certainly joint with the White Swan.  

Friendly community pubbing in Kirkby (you an even see my bus stop in the distance).

And for once, the bus journey back went smoothly.  Even better, a direct train to York was arriving at the station in Northallerton just as I was walking up the ramp.  And I didn't even need a York Tap pint so it was fish & chips, snooker and bed.  Pretty much a textbook BRAPA day! 

Onwards & upwards, I've got plans for a new Hull pub tomorrow before the match, and then perhaps a Greater Manchester day out on the 5th but undecided.  You'll be the first to hear about it.

Si

  

BRAPA - Heath & Latest News

This was a sixth consecutive week of midweek pub ticking in West Yorkshire, a new record and we are really cooking on gas, though Tuesday saw only one new pub visited due to it's (relatively) isolated location.

I took a train from L**ds to Sandal & Agbrigg, though it was more Agbrigg in truth, a place with a pretty unpleasant down & out feel to it, a bit edgy but I was soon heading down a country footpath towards Heath.

Unfortunately, I took a wrong turning and ending up in a gypsy commune where a young boy in full Chelsea kit (I don't have the heart to call him a 'full kit wanker', he might curse me) informed me of my mistake.  However, three small dogs were already yapping/biting at my feet and a cockerel had excitedly ran across the courtyard.  On my way out, a car full of young Irish gypsy girls (all spray tans and hooped earrings) also helped me find the right path.  

I was soon in Heath and what a picturesque little place it was, the pub overlooking the common.

Long distance view of pub from across the common

635 - King's Arms, Heath - I entered into a corridor with a maze of rooms, all dark oak panelling, coming off in various directions.  Yes, this was a heritage pub and has won plaudits for expanding without losing it's character (apart from a rather light, airy conservatory where most people were eating).  It also has the most working gaslights in ANY pub which made me want to sign a gaslight anthem (sorry, bad joke).  I got served in a tiny front room but with no tables, went to a side room where a couple were eating an amazing smelling steak & ale pie.  The pub is Clark's, but leased to Ossett (phew!) so I had the house beer, King's Arms, reddish and excellent quality.  I was aware it sounded like people were laughing and enjoying themselves more in other rooms, so went to explore but an old local was getting his wife a pint of "Fosters in a Peroni glass", it takes all sorts.  He then told a barman he thought he'd put weight on, what a charmer, so I returned to my side room.  We then had a bit of drama as the police turned up on the common, a very rare occurance.  Trying to impose my character, I said "as long as they don't come in here!" which unfortuntely made me look guilty.  The barmaid assured me they'd need a warrant.  I went to the larger main room for a second pint, a very unusually dark Banksies beer that tasted light with that modern hoppy twist.  I'd have stayed here if there'd been more room, but again retired to what was now, MY side room and read my book, the barmaid lit me a candle and all was peaceful though I still felt I was "missing something" in one of the other rooms!  A nice two pint session, as I nipped back to Leeds via Agbrigg.

It's heritage, it's gas lit, it doesn't let the filth in!  The Kings Arms, Heath.

The journey back was mercifully straightforward this week, I even got the boost of hearing Hull City had taken the lead against Liverpool!  After a Burger King and another episode of "The Thick of It", I was flabbergasted to hear they'd even managed to win.  

A very satisfactory end to an incredibly satisfactory BRAPA evening!!  

LATEST NEWS

• Again, I forgot to leave a card in the pub!  I must get into a routine, maybe have them in a more 'easy to reach' pocket like Christina at work suggested.
• I am planning Saturday's first North Yorkshire BRAPA day since the Dales.  This one is in Carlton-in-Cleveland, up in that Yarm kinda area.  The main thing is, no crazy bikers will be invading my space but a fair bit of walking looks necessary.  
• With Birthday and other social events coming up, midweek West Yorkshire trips are on hold until 19th May when we return to Hebden Bridge, which has new pubs since the 2015 GBG has been published, encompassing Cragg Vale too.
• My Birthday week means a bit of time off - I have to take advantage BRAPA style.  Greater Manchester is on the agenda, I was also thinking Rotherham but if Hull City get relegated, I'd get to go next season anyway.  Dad may also be taking me to a new BRAPA 'Hull' tick pre-Arsenal home. 
• Spurs away is our final football chance for BRAPA ticks this season.  Tom has some ideas but as usual, that part of the world is a real ale desert if you take out the Pembury Tavern so I'll be having a look over the next two weeks to see if we can get another Carshalton style success! 
• May should actually be a very productive month.  April garnered 20 new pub ticks, I'm looking for the 30 mark in May though!  Let's think positive.  

See you soon, Si

A pint of Ossett and a good book in a great side room - perfect BRAPA moment/

BRAPA - Carshalton & Holborn

It was one of those rare Saturday's that combined and very productive BRAPA ticking session (five new pubs visited in all) with a Hull City away win.  You could almost call it a 'one-off'! Easily the best football day of the 2014/15 season.

My decision to book us on the 05:48 train to London meant 'early openers' were the order of the day, luckily I've got my own "pubs that open in London before 11am" list.  Not everyone can boast one of them!

630 - Shakespeare's Head, Holborn - God bless Wetherspoons (well, kind of), so often the saviour at times like this.  I noted that the GBG stated this pub "opens 8am, serves alcohol from 9am".  Dad and myself were technically in at 08:59am, and although the staff overlooked the 1 minute (note to Greyhound in Ipswich and the now defunct Junction in York), the beer pumps hadn't read the script and our first two choices refused to produce real ale!  Luckily, the barmaid was a friendly lass, and it was third time lucky with a decent pint of Twickenham's 'Naked Ladies'.  Barmaid became the first African American girl I've heard use the phrase "lovely jubbly", are you watching Mr Farage?  The pub was nicely done, very Spoonsy but a homely, old feel despite it's vastness.  The clientele was pretty much a 50/50 split of excitable Middlesbrough fans travelling to Fulham, and stern looking Businessman having full English breakfasts.  As quotes from Macbeth loomed above, we sat in a booth and found the beer good quality, if not to our tastes.  Re the beer serving problems, Dad quipped "well, they said they start serving from 9am, didn't mean you get to drink it til 10!" Haha, well, I guess you had to be there.

Me arriving at our first pub, bang on 8:59am!  

631 - Penderel's Oak, Holborn - There was time to fit in another early morning 'Spoons before our train to Carshalton via Victoria, as the rain cleared into a warming sunny mist in Central London.  Dad has worked opposite here for his Pensions stuff on and off for years now, yet he'd never noticed this pub which says something about the low key exterior for a 'Spoons.  Mr Penderel hid Charles II in an oak tree from Cromwell, hence the name.  I can't say I approve of that, and I wasn't a fan of the interior either.  Despite being situated in a historic building, it was too light for a 'Spoons with roof light above the bar area, which felt a bit more like a coffee shop servery than a bar, despite huge displays celebrating the American 'craft' phase we are going through.  Staff weren't as impressive either, and though my Rudgate IPA was a contender for pint of the day, you had to go down the steps to just outside the loos to appreciate any kind of historic atmosphere.  A bit of a shame.

Dad arrives at the Penderel, does your Cromwell know you're here?

632 - Windsor Castle, Carshalton - An hour or so later, we were walking through the pretty suburb of Carshalton with the sun properly shining now and our day could really take off.  As he so often does, Tom appeared from nowhere across the road and we were soon in this pub, and how nice it was (novel almost) to be in a proper old fashioned boozer after two consecutive Wetherspoons.  "Not that there's anything wrong with that", to quote Seinfeld.  The very young barman who served us looked like he had his own opinions of Tom's view that Carshalton was spoilt by a busy main road running through it, but he didn't say anything out loud, and a St George's themed ale was decent, a bit of a southern taste.  We sat in a comfy raised area and the pub and it seemed a thriving community place with signs for live music, beer festivals and lots of food options.  A solid start to life in Carshalton.

Tom appears from nowhere like Dame N'Dioye to ram home the opener.  

633 - Sun, Carshalton - A real contender for pub of the day, and if I understood what Chris Douglas said to me later in the ground, Hull City fans helped to save this pub for the community when it was under threat of demolition.  The beer range was really impressive, lots of different styles like porters, stouts, fruit beers and more standard lighter ales.  My Gravesend Shrimpers was a traditional darker bitter, some might say bog standard in this day and age but perfectly kept, loved it.  We really could've stayed a long time.  The friendly, hard working staff half expected everyone who came in to order food, but obviously not in my case, my pub visiting to food ordering ratio must be one of the lowest in the UK!  (maybe),  Although it was on quite a busy street corner, the pub had a very serene atmosphere almost like it was down a backstreet, or even nearer to the countryside.  

Dad hitches his trousers up and crosses the road towards the Sun.

634 - Hope, Carshalton - This pub has won lots of awards recently, was nearer the station, so made sense for us to end our pre-match session here.  It had a darker interior (which I always prefer) and even though they did food, it felt more focused on the beer than any other pub today.  The beer range and quality were equally as impressive, and my Earl Grey flavoured IPA from Siren Craft (nice to see them doing cask) was heavenly.  Despite the fantastic atmosphere inside, the sun had really come out by now, we sat outside the back of the pub (there was even the remnants of a beer festival on, ala Swansea recently) and I conducted a Hull City themed quiz that went down well and with Ben having joined us in the last pub, we captured that Welly gang atmosphere of old before a quick dash for the train, we had become a bit too comfortable.  I can see why this pub is so highly regarded.

Ben and Dad arriving at the Hope, who is photobombing who?


So that was that, a great match experience with Allam Out protest followed.  I'd booked as on an early train back and just as well with these Donny-York engineering works slowing things down painfully.  We had popped into Parcel Yard for a quick one post-match due to getting from Selhurst to Kings Cross in excellent time.  After MOTD, I was in bed for midnight.  Job done.

Si

BRAPA - North of Halifax

West Yorkshire midweek BRAPA trips celebrated their first anniversary with a difficult two pub session in villages to the north of Halifax, though technically listed under Halifax in the GBG.  And whilst we are on the landmarks, this is my 100th blog entry.  Pull those Party Poppers.

Had I started WY midweeks with last night's excursion, I'd have probably been too mentally scarred to carry on with the after-work challenge.  A year today, in fact, the Grove & Midnight Bell in Holbeck seemed a whole lot easier.

After a straightforward train to Halifax, I jumped in the nearest taxi (the bus times were all out of sync) and soon I was in the rural little village of Bradshaw.

Arriving at the Golden Fleece on a fine spring evening.

628 - Golden Fleece, Bradshaw - I'd pictured in my mind's eye the best and worst case scenario here, and I was amazed to see how close to 'best case scenario' this pub really was.  A bustling local throng stood around the bar (in fact, not being able to get to it was as bad as it got!), a great range of ales, some from the Revolutions brewery whose ales are music themed, and one I had, Cleopatra (comin' atcha!) that was accidentally so - all peach and cigarette overtones.  £2 a pint!   I took advantage of the fine spring evening to sit in the excellent beer garden, with views overlooking local countryside, hills, I could even see some grazing horses in the distance.  It was idyllic, a utopian scene, but life doesn't allow things to be perfect for long. I was soon put on edge by a young guy who kept talking angrily to himself - he was a cross between serial murder man Ian Brady and the young priest in Father Ted who gets Dougal into smoking, ear piercings etc.  He lay on a bench, I tried not to make eye contact.  Everyone else was jolly and local, enjoying the sunshine and with my bus still a way off, what could I do but order another pint - this time Revolutions 'House of Fun', a milk stout and a good one at that!  Bus handily arrived just across the road, and I was on my way to Swalesmoor.

Idyllic outdoor drinking at the Golden Fleece.

Having done my research, I thought I was a real clever clogs getting off the bus in Ovenden leaving me a not too bad 0.7 mile walk to the next pub.  What the map didn't tell me, it was all uphill and quite back-breaking!  The bus I got was a Yorkshire Tiger, I just hoped the evil Dr Allam didn't own the company or I may have demanded a refund of my £1.70.

Seats made out of real Tiger skin on the 528 bus to Ovenden.

629 - Sportsman Inn, Swalesmoor - When they said 'Sportsman',  I was thinking perhaps Rugby League, Cricket or even Football for this area, so when it turned out to be skiing, it was quite a surprise.  A dry ski slope overlooking a pub garden isn't something you see every day.  In fact, it made the whole area feel like a European tourist resort.  But this was north Halifax and a kindly gent who was sweeping up leaves  showed me the way in, told me the barman was called Jake, and I should use his name to freak him out.  Well, I did and it worked on the characterful, quirky, bearded young barman - in fact, when I revealed I'd been told his name "by a guy sweeping up", the locals looked at each other as if to say "oh no, not the sweeping ghost of Swalesmoor again!" and now I was scared, until Jake went outside to satisfy his curiosity and revealed the sweeper was 'the boss of the whole complex'!  To keep my 'music' themed beers going, I had a "making your mind up" by Salamander which was almost as good as the previous two.  It was getting chilly now so I sat inside, they even had a fire burning and it seemed like a very nice rural style old fashioned pub.  This was spoiled somewhat as a L**ds fan and a N*wcastle fan (with his girlfriend) swarmed round my table and we settled down to watch Barca v PSG in the Chumps League.  It was a decent experience apart from the hero worship of Barca's skills and style of football so I was quite happy when the time came to leg it back down the hill for the bus back to 'Fax.

Dry ski slope outside pub in the middle of nowhere, unique! 

As it turned out, I was soon back at Halifax Station on foot having gone at such a pace, I almost stayed ahead of all the busses.  I got back just in time for a train to L**ds, but a farce ensued.  First I was stuck outside L**ds station for ages "waiting for a platform to become available", missed one connection, the next train was cancelled, the next advised people to get off and catch another, and this was delayed by 7 mins!  So by the time I got in with my Burger King, it was 11pm!  

A frustrating end to an otherwise excellent night of BRAPA.  

Si

BRAPA : the archives (191-200) A Sunderland v Newcastle special.

191.  Bodega, Newcastle - Often a front runner for our "Welly gang away pub of the season" award, we first came here 13th September 2008 on 'Cockney Mafia Out' day which just added to the wonderful/hilarious atmosphere.  They never really follow their protests through do Geordies.  3,000 fans missing out of 50,000?  Wow, that's gonna scare Mr Ashley(!)  Sorry, I digress.  What I love about this pub is that even when it is ultra-busy, the atmosphere is never threatening, friendly in fact, whilst the range of beers is absolutely spot on - by which I mean, there are always lights, darks, everything in between, the full spectrum of ale types.  Oakham's "20 Years" and Durham Magus are the two that have really stood out here.  All washed down with a Pease Pudding Stottie, and you've got an experience as canny as a load of sardines in a canning factory.  Visiting on a midweek afternoon pre-Dreadnoughts gig saw it good but less magical, but in both September 2013 and 2014's pre-match sessions, it returned to it's 2008 glory, regardless of the fact on both occasions I was feeling the effect of three days of York beer festivalling.  And with 7 points from 9, a lucky pub too.  We even tried to get in post-match in 2014, but it was about ten deep at the bar, so we headed to our next pub ....

Having worn a Newcastle shirt in Bodega the previous year, Ben proves he still has no shame in 2014!

192.  Bridge Hotel, Newcastle - Ah yes, another wonderful example of why my days out in Newcastle always end up in a happy haze.  Incidentally, this was my first pre-match real ale pub here on 13/9/08, we'd taken advantage of some "castle open day" and gone up the opposite tower, before a quick pint pre-Boedga (I think it was an 11am opener then) and Dad and I were so impressed, it was a real wrench to move ourselves.  It doesn't look like it's going to be such a huge pub, but it has such depth and an outside bit beyond that, yet it still always seems quite busy.  Other occasions here involved sitting with some 'hens' pre-Tossers gig on a dark evening, but if this was really March 3rd 2008 as the internet suggests, this pre-dated that football day!  On 'Dreadnoughts' day, JW2, Lu and me popped in here for lunch and a pint or two during our cultural/ghostie walk around.  With Lu limited with vegan requirements, I felt a sense of unity and it was "jacket & beans, jacket & beans" for both of us.  Most recently, we were here post match on 20/9/14 but having thrown away a 2-0 lead, i felt depressed - a pint of Tiny Rebel 'One Inch Punch' still cheered me up as we sat outside with a, shall we say, "mixed group" of stray tigers and approachable mags.  My "Pardew In!" comment wasn't well received.  But again, their glee at a late 2-2 home draw on a so-called "protest" day just didn't make sense!

193.  Duke of Wellington, Newcastle - This old pub on 'High Bridge' (feels more like a sunken cobbled street) has been a guide regular and very popular with the locals for much longer than I've been into ale.  I've been here on three occasions, the most memorable being when Dad and I got into Newcastle very early 10am, it was freezing, but we saw from behind the glass, several glum Geordie faces staring out onto us like they'd been here all night, they probably had. I'm not sure (this could have been before a  Sunderland away game 12th Sept 2009 I'm guessing).  This feels like a proper old school boozer and I was also here before the Swingin' Utters gig 6th September 2011 and probably also the cup win up there on 14th Jan 2009.  What these experiences had in common was a random phone call, in 2011 from Dad and in 2009 from Ric - and I never receive phone calls, especially in my pre-iPhone days where I barely ever used a phone so it was notable in a boring way.

194.  Chillingham, Heaton - A classic Groovie Ghoulies gig always seemed to end up drunken debacles (see my Nottingham archive reviews) and the first, Friday 21st Feb 2003 was one of the best.  I remember getting a scary Metro into that whole Byker area with JW2, a first for me, and being smitten with a girl at work who I was on a course with at this time.  A bit like the Cluny, I saw this as a gig venue with the added bonus of ale, and remember having to take it from the bar, outside, in another door, up some stairs, to the venue which had quite a light, loungy feel for such an event.  People bringing trays of takeaway curry in only added to the surreal environment we found ourselves in.  Future Victorian-waxwork Chris Milner and sister Lu appeared at some point, the gig was great, I was up & down those stairs for ales like a washerwoman, and a drunken singalong in the car back to Shincliffe (poor Ken!) made for a fantastic night, and still the most drunk I've ever seen JW2 to this day!  Superb night.

195.  New Bridge, Manors - Typical of my hazy memories of Newcastle, this was part of a very BRAPA-esque crawl before I went to a gig having a whole afternoon free.  I think the March 2008 Tossers gig is the most likely, I have a feeling I visited after chatting with those hens at the (old) Bridge, and got a bit lost negotiating my way around railway sidings and tunnels to get here.  Ale-wise, this was excellent (loads on I'd never heard of) and I still have a loyalty card the friendly barman gave me (wonder if it's still valid?), the pub was full of students and he thought I was one.  I felt pleased until I started listening into their incredibly annoying conversations, I wondered if they'd escaped from University of Dork.  The pub was quite light (I prefer the relative darkness of the Bridge Hotel).  I moved on pretty swiftly, for I had much new pubbing to do before the gig!

196.  Crown Posada, Newcastle - My introduction to real ale in the City came when, I'm not sure exactly what the purpose was, maybe there wasn't one, but I met John some time after finishing uni (2000) and his 2003 move to York, I think maybe the summer of 2002.  I'd just met his lovely parents for the first time, enjoying a coffee in some shiny new eatery across the road which me n John weren't impressed by, and the contrasting atmosphere in the 'Coffin' (as it's sometimes known) was even starker.  I still remember it clearly, walking into this long thin pub, the glorious pint of Big Lamp, squeezing onto the end of some old locals seat, the old fashioned music coming through an old gramophone - there's a great chapter on this pub in my "In Search of the Perfect Pub" book which really captures it's spirit.  I am pretty sure I've been in here once or twice since, with JW2 again or Dad, but never on my own though I drunkenly looked for it twice in vain on the way back to the Travelodge after various gigs.  An absolute marvel of a pub.

197.  Fitzgeralds, Sunderland - I was first aware of this pub living at Chester Road when at Uni between 1998-2000, when somebody (probably Philip Lister) had a friend on his course who worked here, so Philip claimed he could get us all discounted drinks, though we once went (making it a very early BRAPA tick, we'll say 1999 for the sake of argument) and any discount predictably didn't transpire.  The real tragedy though was that i overlooked all these weird looking beers in favour in some lager or other, blissfully unaware what real ale even was!  Despite hearing "Fitzy's this", "Fitzy's that" on a regular basis, I avoided this pub for the remainder of my time at Uni and it was only one post-match (18th April 2009's 1-0 defeat perhaps) that we went for post-match drinks believing "Beefy" Mark Bainton was there, he wasn't but it was busy, we stood up, but considering all this, we enjoyed the experience and did get a seat for about the last two minutes!  To this day, it's still a mystery to me why I haven't been here more.

198.  Isis, Sunderland - A bit like the terrorist organisation of the same name, this pub's emergence on the pre-match Sunderland scene was put to me a bit like it was a threat to the national security of our King's Arms homeland.  Intrigued, and with JW2 not quite such an early starting drinker as us, we popped in 8th Feb 2014 and I was immediately impressed.  A great range of Jarrow beers served by really good staff, and a terrific two roomed building with secret toilets and a proper hallway giving it grand pub of old feel you normally find more in Greater Manchester, Merseyside or the West Midlands.   Though me, Ben and Tom (quite rightly) stuck to the plan and moved on, Dad lamely and annoyingly decided he was "too ill to move", Mark's knee suddenly had a twinge, and Chris Douglas insisted an a sit down meal as is so often the case, before Christine then declared it "away pub of the season".  Ben and I both texted our displeasure!  Still feeling the need to let it impress me, I made this our designated pre-match pub on 26/12/14.  Now most pubs open 12 noon on Boxing Day, but this place looked like it'd been serving pints of Rivet Catcher since at least 8am!  It was heaving, and in the back room, very very cold.  Things warmed up when John and Ken arrived, and had a few hundred Mackems been ejected for no apparant reason, it might have been pub of the season!

199.  Ivy House, Sunderland - It doesn't sit easily with me even 'highlighting' this as a visited BRAPA pub.  It was a dark, windy night in the late Autumn of 1998 and in our Chester Oval house of ill repute,  Jane Taylor's Autumn of Terror was building us her stalker, Graeme, wouldn't leave her alone.  Not one to front awkward situations head on, she decided the solution was that everyone currently in the house was to vacate it for the evening, and go to a pub where he'd never find us.  So we soon found ourselves walking down behind our house, through a few terraced streets, to this pub I'd heard about since my Panns Bank days.  At one point, a bush bristled in the wind and Jane leapt a mile in the air, thinking Graeme was lurking behind it.  The people present were me, Jane, Andy Denton, Philip and Jane's friend Kerry, the ginger teacher with the big knockers.  We played pool (I was off form, even Philip beat me, the shame!), drank lager and alcopops unaware of "real ale", watched music videos on a screen, it was a good night, awful hangover next day. Had felt like being in a pub, just a studenty one.  I still feel I have unfinished business here and will strive to return when I'm "mopping up" Sunderland.

200.  King's Arms, Sunderland - A fitting pub to bring up the 200 with, another "Welly away day pub of the season", very much our Bodega of Sunderland and it also does Ham & Pease Pudding "filled rolls".  When the good JW2 realised Saltgrass just wasn't cutting the mustard any more (loyaler than most), he joined many others marching up that hill to the King's, and was soon raving about it.  So on 18th April 2009, we joined JW2 and his Dad here with a huge Welly gang including the likes of Lizzy and Colin Scunthorpe for one of the best away match sessions ever.  A great ale range, a friendly barmaid (as long as you speak loudly, bit deaf) and a brilliant pub quiz even featuring a section on the "away team" made for a classic.  No wonder we were back the following year 12th Sept 2009 and on our long awaited return 8th Feb 2014 where we proved it doesn't have to be an unlucky pub for Hull City either.  It was busy without being uncomfy, and again I thought the beer quality was superb, the likes of Consett White Hot and Durham White Gold, and one about Admiral Collingwood.  I like the bare boarded circular layout, it feels like a basic non pretentious boozer.  However, JW2's reports on 'beers going off' or 'on the turn' may be a bit more often than is acceptable for a GBG pub.  It could be a match day thing, hard to cope with demand (see "The Pub" in Leicester), but even so, it may be a worry if a tough CAMRA inspector came in on one of these days.

Wow, well that made me nostalgic and I'm wondering if it's too late for Newcastle and Sunderland to join us in the Championship next season for more adventures like these?   Either that or Groovie Ghoulies reform and come on tour.  I'm not sure which is most likely.

Next time, we'll finish off in Sunderland before turning our attentions to the West Midlands.

Si

BRAPA - The Villages of Bedford

Water-side drinking at the Plough in Bolnhurst (see pub 623).

My quest to complete all Bedfordshire pubs by the end of 2015 started slowly yesterday.  Firstly, engineering works meant a 3 hour plus journey to London via L**ds, and Bedford's new bus station was a confusing affair, typically the bus I needed to get to my first destination was one of the few still going from a replacement stop across town so I missed one of these.

And then, when bus 28 did arrive, the driver had no idea where Bolnhurst was so a local old lady from nearby Keysoe and former bus driver who looked about 200 years old were on hand to advise him.  Even then, he stopped in the wrong place.  And even at the right stop, it was a 0.8 mile walk along a un-paved road to the pub with motorbikes storming past.  The North Beds scenery was at least, picturesque but 1pm before my first pint?  I'm glad all BRAPA pub ticks aren't such a huge undertaking!!

623 - PLOUGH, Bolnhurst - Set back off the road was a large white building which I took to be the Plough.  It took some getting in, with a weird latch almost destroying my last ounce of patience after all the effort it had taken to get here!  I was expecting a gastropub from the descriptions, and the first words I heard on entering the pub were "yes, but do you get tomatoes with that?!" and you could see through the bar to a gaggle of white-clad cheffy people in the kitchen.  However, a couple of interesting ales and very friendly staff made up for this, and being a nice day, I took my pint of Church End Hooker outside to stop me resenting the almost restuaranty set up too much.  In fact, a helpful barman opened the conservatory door for me (I could've chosen a more straightforward route near the loos) and then brought me some complimentary crisps, the proper thick handmade type.  It is little touches of class like this that you remember.  As I sat on the smart patio in the sun alongside a pretty pond (which looked more like a stream), this was as content as I felt all day, maybe I'd peaked too soon as the taxi arrived to take me back into Bedford.

The Plough was one of the trickiest BRAPA pubs I've ever tried to get to! 

My taxi driver reflected that, Bedfordshire has become prime London commuter area with people wanting the buy up property and land, with little sentiment for old British traditions like the humble pub.  Thus, pubs like the Plough at Bolnhurst have to 'evolve' to stay open and successful,  Sad maybe, but true and it was a similar story at my next 'pub'. 

624 - KNIFE & CLEAVER, Houghton Conquest - After a delayed no. 42 bus where a friendly bus driver lady seemed to instinctively know I was visiting Houghton Conquest for this pub, she dropped me off right outside.  I had a few reservations having read about Michelin stars and French chefs so although you could never describe it has a traditional pub, it certainly felt pubbier than expected with the dining area hidden away to the back.  I saw York Terrier was the guest ale, so ordered this with a sense of irony which back fired when I was charged £4 a pint by a grungy barmaid who later described a new wine as tasting like "cat wee", though my general feeling was again of a hardworking, well run pub with lots of barmen running round asking if I wanted another drink, something to eat etc.  I shuffled into an alcove to enjoy my pint and a strange sad sense of being alone suddenly hit me, not sure why, maybe I was channeling a ghostly energy of a murdered French chef!

Arriving in the brilliantly named Houghton Conquest

625 - OLD SUN INN, Ampthill - The day was really warming up now, both in a weather sense and in a BRAPA sense and this was a "big tick" for me being the second pub in the GBG, meaning I had completed page one.  Geek I am.  I'd canvassed local opinion on this pub before, answers like "it's okay", "it's decent" and "it's fine" were amongst the opinions.  In the blazing mid afternoon sun sat on benches on the main road at the front, I grew to really enjoy this experience.  Again, the ale range wasn't spectacular but my Adnams Broadside (not traditionally a summertime quaffer) was top quality.  Had I sat inside, I doubt I'd have enjoyed it so much.  The place was running with dogs (and smelt of them) and kids belonging to the outdoor adults were playing with them.  Kids in pubs = it's a no from me!  There was quite a friendly community hub building up outside, and a shame that a much anticipated beer garden behind the pub still hasn't been finished, everyone agreed.  A couple of MILF's with young teenagers chatted with a friendly family who's kids had a craving for bags of Quavers, and I was just getting included in the conversations when my taxi arrived, so I said a cheery bye and went on my way.

Outdoor fun in the sun at the Sun (which wad fun)

626 - CHEQUERS, Wootton - I took a taxi because otherwise, I'd have had to get a 42 back to Bedford and start again, and time was starting to tick on and I was just getting into my stride.  £18 later, I was regretting the decision thinking a 7 mile journey should surely cost less, even if it was a very meandering route we took.  Was I fleeced?  Well, it didn't matter as I arrived at the lovely, creaky ancient looking Chequers and it was easily the friendliest pub of the day.  A young chap and the barmaid were soon learning about BRAPA, and I then went to sit with two older ale drinking chaps called Cliff and John and we chatted on beer festivals, and pubs in Beds and Yorks.  This was the proper village community pub I'd been craving all day, such a happy atmosphere and although I heard it had almost closed for similar reasons to so many Bedfordshire village pubs - it would have been a tragedy.  Cliff & John kindly offered to drive me to my next pub, as they live at Kempston anyway, but not before another pint, so I was clock-watching and trying not to look impatient, aware I had to be in London for my connection to York.  Probably pub of the day.

Old, friendly, a bit creaky - and I don't just mean Cliff and John.

Cliff, the older of the two, was our driver.  I just sat in the back and closed my eyes, not really wanting to know how many pints they'd had.  They then gave me old gossip relating to my next pub, intriguing tales of cancer, cheating wives & barred regulars!  

627 - HALF MOON, Kempston - There was no sign of any of the above drama these days, just another friendly community style village local.   The barman/landlord was very impressive, giving me a choice of football matches to view, he reminded me a bit of Karl Beattie from Most Haunted fame.  However, the real star of the pub was a bulldog who was introduced to a bar area of local dog lovers (I kept my distance though he waddled over for a stroke at one point!) but he went from hero to zero in a matter of seconds when he farted, almost clearing the place out.  This was as dramatic as things got, I was disappointed that local favourite Wells Eagle IPA (reassuringly tasting of copper coins) was the only ale on with two handpumps turned round, whilst the pub lacked a certain cosy feel though the people were warm (not literally, well I don't know, I didn't rub against any one!) Christina at work's sister lives in Kempston, and as I walked to the bus stop, it seemed a picturesque high class suburb of Bedford.  

Bulldog action in the Half Moon, before he farted! 

I needn't have panicked about train connections, I even had time for a very leisurely pint at the Parcel Yard in King's Cross.  More engineering works and a mixture of Leeds, Sheff Wed, Hartlepool and Scunthorpe fans made for one of the most agonizing journey's home ever.  And this was a dry train. You'd never have known! I even had to change at Leeds, but was back in York for 00:03 as expected.

All in all, another successful Bedfordshire outing, it now moves into 7th in the "pub" league table and I'll be back next month for some Dunstable based fun, my first real venture to the south of the county.

Si

BRAPA - Hipperholme

One of the many beers I tried in Cock o the North (pub 622)

Hipperholme is, this year at least, listed under Halifax in the Good Beer Guide but lying somewhere between Halifax and Brighouse, it seemed very much a place in it's own right as I hopped aboard the 548 bus on a sunny Tuesday evening.

621 - Travellers Inn, Hipperholme - Ten minutes and two miles later, I was walking down a steep hill where I found yet another Ossett pub (the theme of the moment), again this one was of the traditional ilk like recent Elland and Sowerby Bridge efforts.  The locals seemed friendly, I'd already been nodded to and grunted at by a few in the street by the time an elderly chap let me get served first.  I went for Ossett's new regular ale, Inception which I'd read about last week and it was very drinkable, maybe a touch watery.  The barmaid was good, service with a smile.  It was busy in, with a good mix of age groups and sexes, so I sat at the (temporarily) sun drenched benches outside.  Although these were on the road, it wasn't busy as not much traffic was coming down the hill by this time.  Annoyingly, the sun started moving behind the pub so I kept "following" it til I was almost 'off the bench'.  A few more locals nodded and said things like "aye" and "reet", places like this always make me feel like a posh York idiot.  I could hear the strains of laughter and chat coming through an open window as I took my empty glass back in, you've got to love Ossett brewery pubs when they are as good as the last three midweek West Yorks ones I've visited.

My first outdoor BRAPA pint of 2015 was here.

I was aware my next pub was lurking in some industrial park, but not to the extent my stupid GBG app had me believe.  The pushpin was all wrong, and after ten minutes of searching, I found the pub on the main road a lot less hidden than I'd feared.  Luckily, it proved a classic.

622 - Cock o' the North, Hipperholme - Some places are so unique, they have to be seen to be believed.  This was one of them.  I entered the "pub", more like a large barn or industrial unit, with a beer garden across the car park from the entrance.  I was greeted by a characterful landlord, resplendent in sunglasses despite the relative darkness indoors!  He sold the product well, their own "Halifax Steam" brewery which in a rare moment of negativity, the GBG describes as having beers that are bit too chilled!  Even more intriguing.  I briefly explained BRAPA for my reason for being here, but he then asked me what my drinking 'strategy' was (i.e. start from your left and work you way along!), I was a bit flummoxed and ended up opting to get the last bus at 19:50 so I could try a good number of halves - well, the place had impressed me and I may never return.  The quirkiest feature of the pub was the huge tropical fish swimming in tanks which make up the bar, crazy stuff!  A toddler was enjoying watching them, and again there was a great mixture of people with a group of students, a businessman on a laptop, a young family and a few grizzled locals.  Not to mention me perching in the centre, looking around in awe!  I tried a Jamaican Ginger ale, a guest one called Peaches, a Child Catcher (I waited til the toddler had gone to order this) and finally, a nice stout called Old John, just when I thought they only did pales.  Only the Child Catcher seemed too chilled, a bit harsh of the GBG I think.  The music also deserves a mention, a right mixture with the Dickies one minute, a North Eastern folk song the next.  An incredible place, I'd really recommend it.

Tropical fish and plenty more at the remarkable Cock o' the North

The bus and train back went more smoothly than imagined, I had my now standard Chicken Royale with extra bacon n cheese from BK, and I was back home before 10pm.  Job done!  

OTHER NEWS ......

I must get into a habit of leaving my cards in pubs.  I forgot in both last night, must do better on Saturday.

So yes, 'outer Bedford villages day' on Saturday and I am now fine-tuning bus times, taxi numbers etc. and working out which pubs are highest on the priority list.  

Not only is Dad up for helping me with the next leg of East Yorkshire (Goodmanham - it's somewhere near Market Weighton if that helps), friends are asking about our "Goole day" (also including Snaith, Rawcliffe and maybe Thorne too) so we are looking well set on that front.

Next Tuesday, we can put Halifax to bed with our 'Halifax : North night' as we had to Swalesmoor and also Bradshaw, a place I'd almost done back in the late summer of 2014 before the new GBG decided to pool it all in Halifax.

I'll also try and get the next archives out on Monday night which I'm designating "archive night" now.  These blog entries garner a much higher readership than ones such as this, probably cos I talk marginally less bollocks.  Ho hum.  

I'll be back on Sunday, Si