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

BRAPA - Finishing East Yorkshire, Preston, Lancs & End of Year Appraisal

Through the looking glass : curved mirror fun in Preston/

Hope you all had a fine mini holiday celebrating the birth of Isaac Newton.  BRAPA was low key over the festive period, as I'm still trying to get my ankle fully recovered for 2016, particularly my final trip to Bedfordshire on 16th Jan which will be it's first major test.

Boxing Day was a great day though, and with "2015 Chauffeur of the Year" Dad in the driving seat, I finally got that East Yorkshire monkey off my back .....

767.  St John's Hotel, Hull

Yes, after Dad's elaborate 9 year long April Fools trick finally expired, we finally made it to the correct pub on Queens Road, NOT the Queens itself but this more homely, pleasing Marston's effort.  Christine was outside looking like an autumnal owl, also awaiting the 'grand opening' at 12 noon which would see me complete a county for the first time since I previously completed East Yorkshire back in August using the 2015 GBG, at the New Adelphi.  Sadly, this moment lacked the same feeling of anticipation, excitement and magic and I think that's because nothing really happened.  We walked in, it was multi roomed, I confirmed I hadn't been here before, we picked some stereotypical Marston's beers from a stereotypical squash-nosed barman, whilst a stereotypical friendly but nervous local shivered at the end of the bar acting polite, and a rugged woman briefly came into to say "ey up" and then disappeared again.  A locals corner pub for local Hull people, good they've slapped an ACV on it because you could just picture a pointless mini supermarket on this very corner.  I liked it in a vague kind of way, the snuff on the bar was the quirkiest feature.  Even getting Dad to "tick off" this final pub was a lame duck because of course, I'd erroneously highlighted it before.  Oh, and if Marston's think "Christmas Pudding" is a plum flavoured beer, they seriously need to pay a visit to Titanic brewery.

By 12:30, we were heading for the rest of our pre-match session in the Whalebone, now there is a truly brilliant Hull pub.

About to make the East Yorkshire GBG clearance in Hull.

Two days and a lot of water later, we were mercifully in Preston on time for more Hull City based fun...... I have a soft spot for Preston since I used to use the premise of visiting my sister at Uni to explore the GBG pubs around 2003/4 time.  Classics from then like Black Horse, New Brittania, Dog and Partirdge and the Market Tavern still seem to be around, but like everywhere (apart from Durham), the pub landscape has changed in 10 years so I had plenty to do.

768.  Grey Friar, Preston

I'd walked past this depressingly modern looking JDW house several times before, but now it's in the GBG, I could ignore it no longer.  It served the usual pre 11am purpose, and we entered a vast typical Spoons with a real post-Christmas lull feeling, as if Preston had taken one huge collective sigh into this one building.  Getting served and sat down with two pints was as excruciating as only an early morning 'Spoons can be on a Monday.  Dark Star Hophead seemed the obvious choice, but it had just gone, and then Otter Claus was bottom of the barrel so Dad had to have a Tinsel Tits or something suitably Christmas themed.  The barman was a lively jolly chap, telling us he lived in Blackpool and still didn't know how to get to work here, needing a friend to drive him.  Worse though, some familiar voices behind told us Hull City fans were present, it was no other than Mr Sparkler and his mates!  To give you the background, we see Mr Sparkler at most away games.  Down south, he'll withdraw a sparkler from his pocket and demand the poor bar staff put it on (Colchester postponed game being the prime example),  Up north, like he did here, he asks for the sparkler to be removed!  It makes me cringe and laugh, but mainly cringe.  Pain in the bum.  When we finally sat down with our drinks, we'd been in the pub for almost 20 minutes!  We watched some more rolling news on the floods and soon it was approaching 12 noon.

Good job I wasn't thirsty!  Arriving at Grey Friar.

769.  Moorbrook, Preston

Wow, just when you think you can start working out 'pubs of the year', an 11th hour contender comes along to ruin everything!  This was a splendid pub from the moment we walked in, Dad's initial pleasure was possibly at the lack of other customers, mine was for an interesting beer range including Colchester, First Chop, Blackjack and a magnificent house beer which was as classic pale as you can get.  The barman was a quirky guy, reminiscent of a young Elton John with his cowboy hat and shades, whilst brunette barmaid was smiley and they both had a toy gun fight just to reinforce the fact that we were in a fun and quirky environment.  Dad alluded to the 'Not Going Out' Christmas Special but barmaid hadn't seen it yet, I'm sure it would've been classic Brunette 'bantz' otherwise.  We found a fantastic side room with William Morris-esque wallpaper and some fine etched glass, through which you could watch a high class heritage version of Bolton v Blackburn and the loos were above average too with the nice curvy mirror (see above), I definitely try and pay attention to architectural details since i got my GBG heritage book.  A classic pub in every way.

Moorbrook - my dream pub set up!

  

Arriving at Moorbrook

Had my ankle (which I'm not mentioning), been able to cope with the longish walk between railway station and Deepdale, Ale Emporium would have been a good shout either pre or post match but as it is, I'll save it for next season as I'm sure we'll be coming here.  We briefly sampled the "delights" of the Unicorn Hotel, pre-emptive in a loose sense, but the Doom Bar was decent, the landlord was very good, and whilst our drinks were settling, he took us to the corner to point out the corner of the football ground - now that is customer service!   

Post match we simply cut our losses and joined some friendly Preston fans who (half) sympathised with our scandalously disallowed goal for more Moorbrook fun.  We even got sat in the comfiest seats in the pub despite it heaving with football fans.

End of Year Appraisal

So there we go, 2015 has been a fantastic first full BRAPA year.  My aim was 750, I've managed 769 and that was allowing for a 73 cross-ticking shortfall.  Gotta be pleased with that.

I'd barely considered East Yorkshire a year ago, now I've finished it.  And only 2 more in West Yorkshire and 3 more in Bedfordshire, all 5 achievable by the end of Jan.  I should be able to continue stumbling on with impossible North Yorkshire, whilst really getting stuck into both Berkshire and South Yorkshire for 2016.

My aim is 950 pubs by the end of the year.  Nice and conservative estimate that, but the 'ticking' will get harder as the Yorkshire options run out. but I'm hoping September's cross ticking will be a bit more kind than the last 2 years (less than 50 please!)  

As the year has gone on, I've really had a glimpse of how the power of social media can assist, especially Twitter, and I must make this more of a routine and 'get my name out there'.  My new iPad will help me to be able to do more "on the move".

900 will be the key pub number as that is 2/10 of the GBG completed so I'm expecting Party Poppers, free beer and balloons at whatever pub that turns out to be!  

Plenty of plans in place for the start of the year, plus I have two "overnight" away days in mind for Spring/Summer time.  Jan will start with an East London knees-up, then a bit of North Yorkshiring with my chauffeur, before we finish Bedfordshire, a trip to Twickenham (6 to do!) plus more midweek mayhem as and when my ankle is back to 100%, but I'm no Richie Appleby.

I'll also be releasing the "BRAPA 2015 Awards Ceremony" blog in the next week so stay tuned for that, 

See you soon, Si

BRAPA Special : The Soundtrack to BRAPA Part One

One of my first pledges during the creation of BRAPA back in January '14 was to compile a playlist of some great songs that I could see as relevant to my BRAPA trips and play them (preferably on train journey's to and from my solo Saturday trips, most notably Bedfordshire ones which involve a fair drag).

Using mainly my own music library, but with a bit of inspiration taken from good old iTunes (spit!), I created a 15 song list, and then getting carried away a couple of months later, a "second album".

Problem is, I recently realised looking back through BRAPA's formative months (see last week's blog entry) that I've never actually shared them with anyone, and I do so now, in the hope that someone, somewhere, whether it be a music fan or dare I say it, a BRAPA fan, might find this of interest!

1.  Richard Grainger - The Old Pubs 

Brilliant local folk song from a chap with his roots in a town where old pubs being knocked down to make way for plastic ones has probably been felt more strongly than most.  I'm talking about Middlesbrough where he was born.  No instruments, just a good honest short folk ballad, perfect intro as I often feel like BRAPA is some archaic trip down memory lane when you read things like "pubs aren't relevant in today's society" which truly saddens me.  I bet though that Richard is embracing the micro pub revolution in his home town.  In fact, he was probably one of the chaps sat at the bar in Infant Hercules near me recently! 

2. Claim the Throne - Set Sail on Ale

Folk music is where you are really likely to find songs about pubs and drinking, but what about Australian folk metal?  Not my first choice musical genre perhaps, but love the accordion and most of all, the song title and chorus.  Perfect warm up song on any early morning train or bus journey to the first BRAPA 'tick' of the day.  "It's time to tell our tale, and set sail on ale!"

3.  Dagmar and the Seductones - As Long as I'm Moving

Brilliant upbeat 50's throwback rockabilly female fronted song.  "North, East, South, West, every which way!"  pretty much sums up how BRAPA is going to have to be if I'm going to make a success of it, and it's another one to gear me up for the day ahead.  As soon as JW2 copied it for me, I thought "right, you're going on my BRAPA album!"

4.  Red Alert - Somewhere in England

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Duke!" introduce Sunderland's finest.  I love oi skinhead street punk for the same reasons I love a good proper pub, it's tribal, it's basic, it's honest.  A bit like the message of the last song, I like to sing my own lyrics for the chorus pre-BRAPA "it's an every day pub, in an every day town, i'm everywhere, i'm somewhere in England!" though I'd do it properly if I saw them live at the punk festival cos the lead singer looks a bit mental.  

5.  Singing Loins - The Pub on the Corner (r.i.p the Roebuck)

The Medway's finest folk-punk duo (trio by the time they split up) appreciate a proper pub obviously and remember "the beer's never bad" though you do wonder if the Roebuck was ever GBG listed, though "the pumps are full of magic, the barmaid's real hot!"  It sounds a bit like a story of their Green Owl, though a bit more rough and ready.  

6.  Village Green Machine - This English Summer

A bit camp, a bit northern, a bit indie but with amazing 50's guitar solo and I downloaded this really when I was looking for songs that summed up England, i.e. the perfect little village which of course the BRAPA pub would be an integral part of.  A great beer garden song! 

7.  June Tabor - a Place Called England

Probably the best song in my collection about what England is (and was), folky, great lyrics , gentle but cutting at the same time.  Without getting too deep, I feel so rooted in England like I've had so many happy past lives in a country that was a lot more rural than it is now.  It's a weird feeling, but when I'm there say, walking on a country lane in Bedfordshire, it feels like I've come home!  

8.  Greenland Whalefishers - Put Me on a Train

Norway's finest folk-punkers can't do much wrong as far as I'm concerned (apart from one of them supporting the White Shite) and this is a great tired, drunken song though probably more journey there than back ....  "put me on a train and send me where the action is" "hope another town will at least set me free, well set me free from my own company" with their own amazing blend of Irish instruments.  One of my fave bands of all time.  Oh, and it had a beat like a train getting slowly faster as it goes on (though we are probably talking Northern trains from Ulleskelf - Church Fenton).  "Well, I like to drink, a bit more than I deserve, but I hate the dehydration and the nerves!"  

9.  Long Beach Dub Allstars - My Own Life

Very unique song, so chilled out, Brazilian style!  Well, apart from the punk rock ending which is worth waiting for.  "All I ever wanted was someone to let me live my own life".  Pre-BRAPA, I was feeling stifled by routine, and it's so liberating to do something unique every Saturday, and do something that most people seem to find interesting when you tell them about it.  But there'll always be people trying to get me to do things differently / slow down a bit / go on some other social occasion - and this is what I have to fight against for BRAPA to work!

10.  Lonnie Donegan - Lonesome Traveller

Lonnie D (king of Skiffle) is an absolute legend in my book, such a catchy soulful song, and I can sing this on the way home if the carriage is empty! "I'm just a lonely, and a lonesome traveller, and I'm travelling home!"  Yes, BRAPA can be a bit lonely at times but I wouldn't change it for the world.

11.  The Copper Family - Good Ale

Absolutely amazing folk song, just vocals only, no instruments and the song title means I don't need to say any more about Rottingdean's finest who seem to have been around in one form or other since the late 19th century.  Not sure when this is from but you probably couldn't sing about giving your wife two black eyes if she stopped you having a pint nowadays!  So glad I found this on iTunes. 

12.  Gus Elen - 'Arf A Pint of Ale

Brilliant music hall working class costermonger East End of London stuff from Gus (though he was actually a lot more well spoken, from Pimlico don't you know!) and again I found this browsing iTunes and was glad that he'd come out of retirement in the 1920's so there are recordings of his brilliant 1890's songs and in true CAMRA style, this is about how ale in moderation can actually be very good for you (with a crust of bread n cheese!) ,which is always reassuring on a big BRAPA bonanza!

13.  Magpie Lane - November Drinking Song

Proper folk goodness from some chaps of Oxford (I actually found 'Magpie Lane' amongst the Uni buildings on last year's BRAPA trip to the city).  "Get yourself to a cosy inn, and drink the winter away" and such lyrics, remind me that winter is my favourite time of year to be in a pub, preferably in front of a real fire!  And if all the young women all drank quarts of porter, the boys they would all run away.  Perhaps.  

14.  Wild Colonial Bhoys - Home for a Rest (live)

A great one for the journey home, actually my ultimate BRAPA anthem.  They might be Glasgow Celtic supporting Canadians, and this might be a cover version, but let's not hold it against them.  It describes a knackered touring band in England travelling and wanting to be back home, which can be perfectly applied to a BRAPA journey home :

"Euston Station the train journey north
In the buffet car we lurched back and forth
Past odd crooked dykes, through Yorkshire's green fields
We were flung into dance as the train jigged and reeled"

"You'll have to excuse me, I'm not at my best

I've been gone for a month, I've been drunk since I left
These so called vacations will soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink, I need home for a rest...

15. Cute Lepers - Adventure Time

Don't forget, BRAPA is an 'adventure' as in British Real Ale Pub Adventure and I loved this song anyway with it's 70's power pop punk feel, backing vocals and piano bits.   I love the attitude, and I can walk around twice as tall (maybe not literally) and look everyone in the eye and smile when I've got this in my headphones.  

So there's your lot!  Join me on a Monday in the New Year for the "follow up" album which I did around April / May time.   

For now, a happy BRAPpy CHRISTMAS to all of you!  

BRAPA - Rotherham away

The Millers, far too mighty for the Tigers - New York Tavern

Although Hull City managed to plummet to new depths, I think that 'come what may' (May 2016 to be precise), this will be a strong contender for away day of the season thanks in great part to the quality of pubs and locales.

The train journey was straightforward enough, changing at Donny from York and rubbing shoulders with the Gooligans where we learnt a young Hull City striker recently was sat on Selby railway station wondering why he couldn't get a direct train to Brighton!
 
With Tom, Dad and my sprained ankle in tow, I was soon hopping cross town towards our first pub, just before 11am.

763.  Bluecoat, Rotherham

There are three 'Spoons in town, but this one, up a steep footpath next to the job centre, is the GBG listed one and one of more impressive ones I've been to this year.  Okay, so it was typically identikit, but an interesting range of ales and more than one member of bar staff certainly puts it in the higher echelons of JDW houses.  It's nice to think that Tim Martin tours the country, enjoying his own pubs, because whatever you say about them, they are a life saver when other pubs only open at 12 noon.  Despite seeing my most despised Saltaire Raspberry Blonde on the bar, ales like Bradfield Farmers Belgian Blue and Partners Stout made up for it.  Tom got a nice looking veggie breakfast and whilst me and Dad were pikeys by eating our own fruit bread and cheese in the pub, a bit of food mix-and-matching meant I can report that the hash browns, toast and baked beans were up to standard.  Typically, the loos were up about 10 flights of stairs with a 30 person function going on half way up, not good for my ankle all this climbing.  The rest of our gang had arrived so it was time to move on.

Behind bars : me arriving at the Bluecoat

764.  New York Tavern, Rotherham

Arriving here at 12:15pm, we were glad to see the pub still almost empty so we could commandeer in large space in the corner, a main part of the reason we settled down here pre-match instead of deciding to move on again.  However, the main reason we stayed put was that the pub was just so gosh damn good!  In fact, it reminded me of the first time I walked into Barnsley's Old No 7, just a friendly understated gem, very South Yorkshire, with a huge welcoming range of beers from the superb local Chantry brewery.  I've had them before, I've never had a bad one!  And the prices?  £4.20 for 2 pints and a blackcurrant?  Are you watching York city centre?  I moved on from a stunning IPA called Mighty Millers (see top picture) to a Two Magpies Porter, then a 6.3% Special Reserve at just £2.50 a pint!  Wow.    Ben did us a great 19 question Hull City quiz, you could almost have been in Hull's Wellington (RIP) in it's hey day.  As expected, the pub busied up towards kick off time but it happened so gradually, it didn't feel too intrusive!  Great pub.

Me arriving at the wonderful New York Tavern

Pre-match in New York Tavern - note my ankle is out! 

765.  Cutler's Arms, Rotherham

Post match and near the ground, it was perhaps no surprise to find this gem of an old pub (though only re-opened last year) packed to the rafters and it was about 3 deep at the bar.  Again, it was Chantry's all the way but the 'Man of Steel' at 3.5% was a bit mellow that what I'd been used to today!  Forget Superman, the real men of steel are Rotherham's working men of yesteryear.  I spied old work friend / Rotherham fan Tim Milnes at the bar, and he asked the obvious question "can we play you every week?" to which I replied "if these pubs are anything to go by, then yes please".  Prices again were ridiculous, I got change out of a tenner for 3 pints and a blackcurrant, which was free.  This place reminded me a bit of one of those grand Liverpool pubs, like the Lion Tavern for example with it's mosaic tiling, snob screens, etched window glass etc.  I love my heritage pubs, and this is a great example.  The hope was that all the home fans would down a swift half, and go home, leaving me to appreciate this pub in a calmer state, but they'd won and it is nearly CHRISTMAS so obviously, this was wishful thinking on my part!  I'd quite like to come back here though.

Dad, Tom and random smoker outside Cutlers.

766.  Bridge Inn, Rotherham

There'd been so much talk pre-match about this pub (very close to the station) having police, doormen, and idiot football fans swarming about, that I'd never stopped to contemplate that it might actually be excellent.  So when me and Tom had given the football rush enough chance to clear, we were amazed to see a beautiful interior, with stained glass, partitions and some of the best pub toilets I've seen all year!  It's details that matter and whilst we are on the Liverpool pub comparisons, this was like an understated version of the Philharmonic with those huge old Adamant urinals though I'm not sure Japanese tourist girls would like to take photos in these ones!  Okay, so Old Mill cannot be classed as good as Chantry brewery by any stretch of the imagination, though the Fire & Brimstone guest was certainly better than the likes of the Blonde Bombshell and Bullion (besides, they did have a Chantry guest on anyway!)  The atmosphere was very much winding down by now, just a few old chaps with bulbous noses looking up in a bored fashion at Newcastle v Aston Villa.  Another stunning pub from Rotherham's fine selection.  

Arriving at the Bridge Inn in the murky evening mist of Miller-land.

After a meandering journey home via Leeds, I popped into York Tap for a little night-cap and tribute to Jimmy Hill (though I have him on my celeb death list so can't be a hypocrite!) before Fish & Chips and an early night.  Great day.

Sad to see the Prince of Wales in Greasbrough removed from the electronic GBG, my plan was to visit this too but the landlord had an accident so hope it's not the end for that pub.  I'll be doing South Yorks on Tuesday evening's in the New Year so watch this space.   

Up next, I'm determined to FINALLY get to St John's Hotel in Hull on Boxing Day before a little trip to Preston to end the pub ticking year.  I'll not be doing anything midweek until the ankle is properly healed (heeled!), but got a few special BRAPA features coming up on Monday's soon, starting tomorrow so see you then,

Si

 

 

BRAPA - Bedfordshire Part 10 & Cambs

Map of East Bedfordshire in the New Inn, an area I now know well!

My penultimate trip to Bedfordshire for pub ticking purposes (well, until September's GBG cross-ticking exercise at least) began with a third trip to Biggleswade, which makes it one of the most visited destinations so far.  Not bad for a happy well-heeled bustling market town where you might think real ale pubs aren't really the specialist subject.

It was pouring with rain but my familiarity with the centre of town meant I didn't even need a map to get me to my pub, approaching it down a side passage behind the marketplace.

Arriving at the New Inn

758.  New Inn Ale House & Kitchen, Biggleswade

Despite it's ever so slightly pretentious official moniker, this pub was already a hub of activity when I arrived dead on 11am, with breakfasters, drinkers and evil old women asking for hot drinks, all escaping the rain / Christmas shopping (delete as appropriate).  It took me a while to get the attention of the bar staff who were chatting with locals at the bar, the main character being a man with the croakiest voice ever witnessed on my pub travels, and hearing him sing Mumford and Sons down the phone to his grandson was both heartfelt and ridiculously amusing at the same time.  Despite the time, a 5% porter from Worksop felt like the only sensible thing to do, though the 'glass' I was served in definitely did not seem appropriate to what, at the end of the day, was an English ale.  Belgian 10%er, maybe so.  The barmaid (making a late push for "brunette barmaid of the year award") was ultra friendly and was soon over cleaning my table and replacing my candle because someone had apparently "robbed me", I'd never have known.  Not for the first time recently, I was in an unashamedly blatant Greene King local hero pub but the beer and atmos made it a strong contender for pub of the day, certainly the best Biggleswade pub since Golden Pheasant in my eyes.

Great pub, shame about the glass.  New Inn, Biggleswade.

It was time for a bus to Moggerhanger, where I believe I was about to become their first official tourist!  Typically of Bedfordshire busses, a diversion was needed around town and then the double loop deja vu at Sandy meant my bladder was straining by the time we finally reached the "Mogg".  

759.  Guinea, Moggerhanger

"We are NOT a gastro pub", their official website proudly states.  So a bit confusing then to be greeted by a manically smiling young lady with pristine white shirt and menu clipboard, who almost proceeded to rugby tackle me as I simply made a b-line for the bar.  No wonder the only other drinker, a craggy old local Fosters only man, looked as bewildered as me.  To be fair, this was a cracking old building with low beams, uneven floor and a homely lived in sense.  Take away all the festive decor, and put me here on a Tuesday afternoon rather than a Saturday lunch before Christmas and I might have had a totally different experience.  The range was very Young's based, and a Winter Warmer at 5.5% meant I was certainly not going to stay too sober today.  It took a long time to get served, with the diners taking priority, the female gang of staff were all friendly, but seemed to eye me with a degree of suspicion as I sat in a twee 'reception' style area, all floral patterns and cushions.  A conversation within earshot revealed that not only had a couple gone out of the way to say how special their meal had been, but someone before had obviously complained and they were still reeling from it, stating "nice to see there's at least SOME decent people in the world!" which just scared me to be honest.  As a nice touch, instead of beermats (which would have been preferable), they had trivial pursuit cards so you could quiz and drink together,  Needless to say, I added a BRAPA card to the pack before leaving. 

Outside and in at the Guinea in /Moggerhanger

A bit of a conundrum next as I was sure I was waiting for a 13:09 number 73 bus to take me back to Sandy.  However, when it didn't show, my phone suggested it had actually been 13:04 and I'd missed it.  Silly me, I thought, but at least 13:33 wasn't too long to wait for the next one.  But then an old woman appeared about 13:20.  She's early, I thought, and then a 73 bus arrived at 13:24 and took us back to Sandy!  I still have no idea what happened there, it didn't fit any timetable I'd seen. 

Still, if this had been a good slice of fortune, it was brutally evened up when the 14:07 train back towards Peterborough was cancelled.

This afforded me chance for a revisit of the Sir William Peel, Sandy and what a cracker this is.  If you remember, my summer visit was a bit of a whirlwind but now I got chance to enjoy it as a quiet indoor experience, where the landlady was chatting with an Irish guy called Brian, his local wife and their baby who loved Christmas lights.  The Oakham Citra was superb, so when a wedding finished and the men came in asking if Guinness was on, I could only shake my head in despair!  A bit more controversy followed as the baby pooed himself (possibly upset by the Guinness conundrum) and then Brian tried to put it in with the general pub waste as babies poo is milky and sweet.  Landlady didn't agree, but a wheely bin around the back provided the answer!  

Phew, the next train was on time so I skipped St Neots in favour of Huntingdon, and a short taxi from here took me to the pretty little village of Hartford.

760.  King of the Belgians, Hartford

And what a uniquely shaped little gem this pub was, glad I made the effort to think a bit outside the pubby box.  An ancient 16th century jewel, I approached down some steps behind the bar and was met with a few smiling faces of customers and staff, always a good start.  The ales seemed interestingly micro, having broken the 'tied' shackles of Beds and now in the freer Cambridgeshire area, perhaps - Tydd Steam, I'd never heard of them!  The talk was about online dating, and let's just say the locals were of the age where it made absolutely no sense to them at all, so why discuss it at all I'm not sure.  From Plenty of Fish to Tindle (I think they meant Tinder), they had it covered, and it was interesting to see both a Geordie and a Scotsman at the heart of things.  This was my most contented moment of the day, I hadn't even noticed the giant Plasma screen showing Sky Sports News about an inch from my head.  A shame really because Dad told me Hull City were winning and I had spent ages on my phone wasting battery, trying to work out who'd scored.  

Scenes from outside and in at King of the Belgians.

As dusk fell, at least it had dried up a bit which apparently wasn't the case oop North, and 15 minutes later I'd walked back to the edge of Huntingdon for pub number 4 of the day .....

761.  Old Bridge Hotel, Huntingdon

Any "pub" that has to be approached by ascending some stone steps and turning a brass door knocker has surely got to be viewed with suspicion!  It reminded me of taking my old cat to the vets.  A vast multi roomed interior of kitchens and dining rooms awaited me, so I had to ask a helpful looking young waiter where the bar actually was!  Right at the bottom down some carpetted steps, I finally found it which was heaving with hysterical mainly female wine/coffee  drinkers.  The staff were on the ball though, and I'm sure the barman treated me with a certain reverence once I'd become the first person in ages to order beer, a Lone Star Red, from Nene Valley not too far away - it was as good a beer as I had all day.     A little table just at the top of the stairs was all that was free, but it served my purpose.  It was hard to take everything in with all the shouting, laughing and general merriment but a good atmosphere, though it made me feel maybe i'd been a bit churlish about the Guinea earlier on!  

Arriving at the Old Bridge on the banks of the River Great Ouse

762.  Falcon, Huntingdon

There was a theme developing in Huntingdon as I squeezed another one in before the train back towards Peterborough and then York.  I entered a grand entrance, only to be swarmed around by five young women (wish I was always this popular!) in what seemed to be a hotel lobbey.  Again, I asked where the bar was and one of them marched me down two staircases announcing "here it is, 12 handpulls on!" wow, well this was a bit unexpected but surely there's a more obvious entrance?  This place was again vast, with an olde worlde feel despite a recent refurb, and Oliver Cromwell used this pub as his recruitment post so I wonder what he'd have made of all the festive merriment in the main bar, probably would not have been too happy!  I deliberately ordered the most obscure beer  I could see, a "Nobby's Claridge Crystal" which I described as an awesome pale at the time but let's just say my memories were a bit hazy by now. 

Probably not the entrance you should be using if you want ale at the Falcon

So that was that, the journey back went relatively smoothly and I am only three Bedfordshire pubs (Luton, Renhold and Salford) away from finishing that county.

HOWEVER, I sprained my ankle putting up some decorations this morning (fell off a chair!) and can hardly walk.  I really hope this doesn't impact Wednesday's trip to St John's Hotel, Hull or Saturday's trip to Rotherham but can't see me getting to work tomorrow, it'll need to heal quite quickly!  As a precautionary measure, I'm postponing the Stanbury midweeker until further notice.

Typical, you get through a Beds/Cambs big pub day unscathed an injure yourself at home!

Si