BRAPA - To Boldmere Go Where No Pubman Has Gone Before : Trekking in the West Mids

As so often seems to be the case on a Championship away day, we were back in the West Midlands, home to all those football teams who you could never call 'very good', but aren't bad enough to be called 'rubbish' either.  And they all hate each other despite being almost identical bar the colour of the shirts.  It is such fun.

So now I've lost 80% of my readership, let me take you back to last Saturday where myself (Spock), Father BRAPA (Jean Luc Picard) and Tom (the know-it-all with the beard, 'Will'?) aimed for some pre-match ticking on the 'Aston' line before our game at 'the Villa'.

We 'alighted' (as we experts say) at a railway station with a real nod to BRAPA, Twylde Green, where we walked in the drizzle a short distance to a place called Boldmere.  Quite a pleasant lively main street, plenty of Asian food outlets, funeral directors and hair salons, one of which was called UBU so I made a Purity joke which would've had the beer bores lapping it up had I had my Periscope 'live feed' turned on.  All in all, it was not too dissimilar from that Brampton area of Chesterfield or somewhere else which escapes me.

It felt like this main drag was geared up for a Wetherspoons, even if you didn't know there was one.  I did however, and we faffed around with photos and found two doors shut before finally finding the really obvious main entrance ......

1465 / 2435.  Bishop Vesey. Boldmere

After recent Saturday morning 'Spoons visits, I entered this place with a slightly nervous air, wondering if I'd find the one member of staff serving 30 angry people, pumps turned around, poor beer and sticky tables littered with dirty plates and cutlery.  So this was something of a surprise, and its 18 consecutive years in the Good Beer Guide was there for all to see with a rather classy display.  People were dotted around, staff were in evidence, yes it took longer to get served than you suspect might be the case in yer back street local, and I stepped forward with two 50p vouchers for a nice cheap round .... and this was after Dad has demanded Oakham Blue Skies.  "It's 6%!" I squealed like a baby shrew.  "Am I bovvered?" replied Dad (sort of) channelling his inner Vicky Pollard, and promptly disappeared.  "Did he used to play hide n seek with you when you were a twild, and always win?" asked Tom as we wandered around the pub with the drinks a few minutes later, but Dad was waving from a balcony.  Upstairs 'Spoons, well that's a rarity for me, must be one of those posh Lloyds No 1 houses or something?!  Tom had already put forward his theory that Martin Taylor could actually be an undercover policeman, when conversation got even darker.  First the Madeline McCann case was discussed at length, before we revisited our Deathlists that we'd compiled in the Nag's Head in Loxley, Sheffield back on 17th Oct 2015.  I just have two to get, Clive James and Murray Walker, but Dad and Tom both have Phil Windsor and after his recent driving escapades, it seemed relevant.  Not sure why the chat was so bleak, it was a happy 'Spoons and a good start to the day.  

Blue Skies drinking .... (Mega Lolz) (no i didn't get a top up)

Nice upstairs area and another lovely 'Spoons carpet

Tom drew the pub in case my outdoor photo didn't work

Arty shot towards the Harvester and UBU

Next we took a 20+ minute walk from Boldmere into Sutton Coldfield, one of those places I'd always heard of but never thought "wow, I'm dying for a trip there!" 

You could tell, as I actually thought it was called Sutton Colefield and I imagined sooty faced urchins playing on a slag heap in the centre of a slum neighbourhood, so to find it was quite a posh little place was a surprise.  We'd already passed an Ember Inn and an Artisanal (with the emphasis on the anal) Gin & Craft Bar (both bound to be in the GBG next year) before we came to our first of two pre-match pubs .....

1466 / 2436.  Brewhouse & Kitchen, Sutton Coldfield

My first thought "Good God, can't they at least restrict Brewhouse & Kitchens to London where they belong?"  But no, it seemed, and in quite the same way I'd jump off a cliff if the GBG told me it was the right thing to do, I had to go in and neck a pint.  Thing is, modern upmarket style bars like this are always quite dispiriting in terms of atmosphere, but at least you can doff your cap and say "well played on a great pint".  But I've never said that in a B&K, the beer always falls short in my opinion.  Here (after one of those annoying 'coming soon' labels had me ordering a beer that wasn't ready), the 004 Oaks was like a pint of tap water with hops dropped in it, not a quality issue, just a shite beer.  Remember the fish tank in Glatton last week?  Well here they'd stuffed the fish tank full of hops like that'd be an interesting thing to do.  On the plus side, I had a great time at the bar cos this Icelandic looking dude probably from Solihull with a beanie, sleeve tattoos and a sentient beard which ordered him a Gamma Ray with a Hot Chocolate, paid by contactless (of course),  and sat moodily at a firepit in the centre of the pub and you know, it just seemed right!  When I ordered Tom's blackcurrant squash just after, the barmaid looked dumbfounded, did she not realise Tom was at the cutting edge of the nu-hipster revolution? Oh, and Dad went missing again and it took us ages to realise he was still in the bogs, enjoying the hand soap options of Lemongrass or Bergamot, which would've tasted nicer than what I'd just ordered him.   Can we leave now?

The ales came in these horrid tankards too

Tom and some very nice tiling in the bar area

Firepit Scandanavian fun

The fish are dead, long live the hops!

Capitalising on Sutton Coldfield's recent foray into the well heeled trendy crowd, it was nice to see one of our fave #PubMen had opened a craft bar opposite this pub despite supposedly being in Crete or Greece at the time ......

Sir Quinto Lounge, a sure-fire entry for 2020

Next, we crossed the road and turned left off the main street to our final and more traditional pub before kick off, deliberately planned this way as we might want to stay a bit longer here (i.e. squeeze in an extra half) than the previous two.....

1467 / 2437.  Duke Inn, Sutton Coldfield

Ah yes, this was a timely reminder of why I so enjoy the West Midlands as a pub ticking area, basic side street boozer, almost hard to believe we'd only walked about one minute off the main road through the town.  It shouldn't have been difficult at the bar, as we were greeted by a young hospitable barmaid, but I started trying to remember what 61 Deep used to be (if anything!) but the barmaid thought I meant what used to be on THIS handpump, so she said Deuchars, and that confused me more! Not that it mattered, but I took a photo cos Dad suggested I could ask the beer world of Twitter when I did my 'check in', but I got her in shot (for once, I wasn't even meaning to!  HONEST) so she says 'hope I wasn't in that photo!' so I then try to explain about BRAPA but it didn't work cos I didn't have mi bag n paraphernalia with me and oh dear, well I felt like a dork, so sat down with my HPA and said nowt!  Never mind, in the bogs, some jolly gents tell me they've already had a group of Hull City fans in and we were like 'hmmm, wonder if they were the Gooligans or the S.S.?'  They were all Villa fans but were not going to the game but said they were nervous!  Dad was loving the place .... "anything could happen here, a brick could come through the window and I wouldn't be surprised!" he said with a winning smile.  Another barmaid came through clutching a bag of limes, she was an even happier soul if that was possible.  Then our original barmaid came back through to try and put the horse racing on for the codgers, one out weirded me by almost saying something dodgy, then stopping himself and telling her "I wouldn't .... I've got daughters older than you .... besides, your old man is a copper isn't he?" and I think it might be the best pub quote I'll hear all year.     Dad & Tom then put the gloss on a cracking pub experience by having the longest debate about how much an AMT coffee napkin actually cost.  I yawned.  Time for the match!

Proper no nonsense bar

Loved this blokes jacket.  Wolves v Leicester was a bit talking point in here too.

Great view of the bar with no people in shot cos I'm not a monster

Classic bog shot

Then for the game which was a bit of a cracker really.  Villa swarmed all over us, then we went all brilliant and went 2-0 up with classic goals.  Then we were unlucky to concede before half time cos our defender had gone off injured.  But second half they equalised, the 30K plus crowd properly got behind them, I thought "we are so gonna lose this!" but we weathered the storm, and if we'd signed the right Chris Martin and not to dude from Coldplay. we could've even won it at the end but overall happy with point, and it broke my 4 defeats in 4 record at Villa, which shows what an unlucky pub Barton Arms really is despite its Oakham Heritage gloriousness (ignoring the Thai bullshittery). 

Post match, a nice Twitter bloke called Neil Harris had come up with a pre-emptive cracker near to New St for me so we headed back for 'Pint Shop' to say hi.  The one in Cambridge goes in and out of the GBG, so it seemed like a fair bet.  

Pint Shop, Birmingham

Well, it had scaffolding all around it, was a heaving throng of throbbing twenty somethings, the staff were top class, but all the beers were on those little taps so hard to so what is cask and keg, not that it should matter of course to a true woke honorary millennial like myself, but I panicked and chose a pint of 'number one' from the menu which wasn't a pint of wee, but a very nice Salopian Oracle, sadly in a handled jug but bless the barmaid's wretched Brummie heart, she'd waited for me whilst I'd gone to the blackboard despite how busy it was.   No chance of a seat, it was draughty around the front entrance, upstairs was only for whiners and diners, so we secreted ourselves into a side near a booth and I sent Dad on a mission to find Neil Harris.  "He looks like a Neil", "I think he just nodded at you", "I think this Neil might be bald", "Is he old of young?", it was a decent scouting mission from Dad (and Tom) but to no avail, so I did them a 'guess the football results' game on my phone (Dad won) before we decided to end it all (so to speak) and make sure we were back in time for the half six train.

Me looking simple

Tom looking stern

"Don't take a pic of me blowing my nose!" says Dad, which I didn't

Bit too busy to be nice

Lucky people with seats (I hate 'em all)

Train home then wasn't too bad, you couldn't do a Brum day much better than this we reflected.  Neil Harris messaged to apologise, he'd got comfy in the Victoria and couldn't move and on this Pint Shop showing, think he made the right call! 

Onwards and upwards, I'll be back on the BRAPA trail this Friday in some Yorkshire town of ill repute.  January hasn't been the most productive month so far but edging back towards that 1475 mark where I 'declared' on the 2018 GBG, so have nearly made my numbers back up.  Good. 

Si

BRAPA - Harrogate, still as Harrowing as Ever

"SHIT, THANK SHIT FOR THAT!"  I didn't mean to say it quite so loudly, but as the delayed bus finally swung around the corner to take us from Wetherby to Harrogate, it just came out, much to the amusement of the attractive brunette, the only other person waiting with me.   Luckily, in this day and age, no one with Tourettes gets the kind of raw deal they used to, perhaps she thought I had it?  For good measure, perhaps I should follow up my outburst with the odd 'fuck' or 'bugger' ?  Thankfully, I realised the driver was asking where I was going, so that put paid to that possibly unwise plan.

This was a much more pleasant journey than the L**ds to Wetherby one earlier.  Okay, so I ate my cheese n pickle pasties in an angry jerky manner but I was feeling generally positive, three pubs to do in Harrogate and still only 6:30pm on this bitterly cold Friday.

Except it wasn't THREE pubs, it was TWO I soon discovered.  The 'Swan on the Stray' had been renamed just 'Swan' and I hadn't realised, I'd done that in 2013.  In fact, I only looked because the rubbish GBG App was only indicating one pub on Devonshire Place and I was checking to make sure it wasn't the same pub as '10 Devonshire Place'.  Does this make any sense?  Are you keeping up?

Ahhhh, my annual trip to Harrogate.  Toffee nosed snooty cold uncaring unfriendly twee ponce shop Harrogate.  Where blousey ladies crowd in to Betty's Tea Rooms and everyone walks around with a silver spoon on their tongue and a stick up their jacksie.

Pub-wise, there's been some I've enjoyed over the years.  10 Devonshire Place was one, Major Tom was good in a hipstery smash your head against the wall kinda way, Hales was good for a laugh back in the day but I got bored of it quickly, Coach n Horses and the Spoons both decent.  Little Fail House, the micro, with their unannounced NY closure 2 years back was maddening but ok when I finally went, friendly at least.  But it is your Montpelliers and your Blues Bars and your Fat Badgers that really set the teeth on edge. 

Tonight's first pub was classic HG, "Bar, Cafe, Kitchen" it said.  What about the word 'Starling'?  Was I in the right place?  After much lurking, I saw it printed on the big glass windows.

1463 / 2433.  Starling Independent Beer & Coffee House, Harrogate

The name said it all and I walked into the small downstairs bar where the four tables to the right were lined with smug looking pizza eaters.  I smiled at them all, no one smiled back.  At the bar, I was greeted by a typically artsy, quirky young lady who'd stepped out of a vintage magazine in Hebden Bridge.  Not for the first time, I tried to combine the name of the beer I wanted.  "I'd better have a Winter Stout under the circs, ho ho!" I said, it was snowing a bit.  But it took her ages to realise what I was on about, it wasn't funny anyway, I need to make a note to self to stop.  Finally, she got the gist and says "If it's gonna snow, I want a full whiteout or nothing!" which was a nice maverick response.  "More Seating!"  beckoned a sign up the stairs, I did this twice as I needed the loo once, both times, I gave way to the same male staff member.  Neither time did he thank me or so much as acknowledge me.  This is why I dislike my Harrogate visits in a nutshell.  I shared the upstairs room with a bloke I did warm to.  And how could you not warm to a Jewish American Danny Baker?  I hoped he was a pub ticker.  He had that aura of gentle kindness and wide eyed inquisitiveness.  The highlight was when he suddenly loudly clapped his hands together and made me jump.  "Sorry, am tryin' to kill a fly!" he explained. Bands like Elbow and Cat Empire blared out of the speakers, I looked them up on Shazam and funnily enough, both bands looked like the kind of folk who'd be eating pizza downstairs.  I took my glass back to the bar and barmaid, more animated now, wished me a good rest of night which was nice!  And she was right cos I was leaving here!  (Kidding, but not really).

Not a beer to joke about, unless you are funnier than me

I think the green hand soap goes well with my jumper!

Pre-fly killing incident

Just a few minutes closer to the railway station was my other pub, though I walked the long way around cos I'd already said no to the homeless guy once and would feel guilty a second time.  I then saw a homeless lady and had to say no to her too, "have a good night anyway", she says.  "I will, you too" I reply without really thinking.  "I'll try" she says.  And I find always good to have a positive attitude even if you have cashflow issues, it can get you a long way, just ask Nigel Adkins. 

Now I like North Bar in L**ds a lot, and I quite enjoyed Further North in Chapel Allerton, but if anywhere could kill my love of this mini-chain, it'd be Harrogate.  Let's go in and see shall we? 

Steamy windows, always fear the worst

1464 / 2434.  North Bar Harrogate, Harrogate

But this was much more like it.  Okay, it was never going to be an old style pub, and it didn't have the lethargic long lazy wooden layout of its L**ds counterpart, but it had an atmosphere, it had loud laughing people, a cracking barmaid with x-ray vision who saw me through a crowd and told her gormless male colleague I needed serving, it even had a photo booth, a man dressed as foliage (probably one of those crazy pagan Green Man types), as I took my delightful Magic Rock Ringmaster to a table in the main bar area - note the 'high peril' I put myself in, putting myself on the line for my readers of course so you best be bloody grateful!  And it soon got busier, louder, harder, faster, pussycat, kill kill! (Sorry, got a bit carried away there).  Foliage bloke and wife's friends all turned up, lots of hugging, standing about, asking if they could take the chairs from my table.  I was like "YES, YES, TAKE THEM, TAKE THEM ALL, PLEASE, JUST LEAVE ME BE!"  In fact, down three steps in the direction of the bogs and photo booth was a perfectly good separate room, but it sat empty.  Why do people do this?  Insecurity in the worry they are missing out on the 'action'?  Vertical drinkers who wanna just chug one down and move on ('sitting down is for the weak' mentality?)  Or simply a total lack of spatial awareness?  Doesn't really matter, it is wrong whatever.  So whilst I look back on here with mainly positive thoughts, always good to check your notes from the day.  And late on, I did write "Bar 19 Blackpool for boring cunts" which shows just how frenetic it became as we neared the witching/bitching hour of 9pm when all Harrogate folk hit the prosecco with a new found vim and vigour.  

Foliage man in 'calm before the storm'.

View to the bar

Photo booth in a pub so you can be wacky bastards

Ladies of various heights ready to jump aboard the Prosecco Express

My train was a bit delayed, so I had a swift half in the Harrogate Tap, which I sometimes think is my favourite of all the Taps, but I should probably be loyal to York cos it is rather good unless you go in on race day or a Saturday evening.  Sheffield has its moments but beer quality and space are sometimes issues, I'd need to see Newcastle again in the day time, L**ds Tapped I can't get on with, and I've forgotten any others.  

A friendly bloke who was obviously a visitor to the town told me the hand dryer in the gents was making him deaf, and I almost actually missed the train and had to run!  Productive evening to take the pressure off Aston Villa the following day, which I'll tell thee about tomorrow.

Si

BRAPA - Always Take the Wetherby With You

My BRAPA debut in Wetherby was finally here.  Bit of a strange one, as it isn't one of these Yorkshire towns that no-one has heard of.  It has a racecourse, it has a river, it has a #PubMan, it has a famous fish and chip restaurant.  But then again, it has no railway station, and a Friday evening bus ride from L**ds took approximately 80 minutes.  One dude had the right idea, bringing a six beer carry out for the journey from North Bar, Belgrave Music Hall, or one of the other nearby crafto beardo outlets ...... he knew what was in store!

I felt quite sick, hot and sweaty as we wound our way through all those GBG pub-free places like Seacroft, Boston Spa, Collingham, Thorner and Bramham.  Only a lady trying to force her copy of Woman's Weekly on an embarrassed bloke was a moment of any note, at least she didn't hit him on the bottom with it.  Jeez, just let us hope the pub would be good .....

Boring story time.  This was quite a big tick for me as it happened.  Back on 13th August 2015, I went to the (sort of) wonderful Anglers Retreat in Wintersett, meaning I had just ONE pub left to do in West Yorkshire (this one), to complete 'West Yorkshire' for the first time.  But before I got chance, the new 2016 edition dropped through my letterbox, this pub had been binned, and remained out of the GBG until this year, by which time it had a slight name change from 'Muse' to 'Mews', either because they'd realised the band were shite, or they thought 'Mews' sounded more upmarket like the town they probably aspire to be, Harrogate (I'm joking of course).

It was pitch black and trying to snow when the bus unceremoniously dumped me outside a giant Morrisons, and I tottered up to the pub where fellow totterers, two women in ridiculous stilettos, distracted me with long legs and a shriek, and I missed the pub entrance.

1461 / 2432.  Mews Ale & Wine Bar, Wetherby

Well, it certainly was a 'Crowded House' (ha ha) as I entered to platters of sandwiches and people who had the nervous squint and stale air of the 'office worker' milled around in the back and middle of the pub.  Bit late for a Christmas do?  But then again, we'd had ours on Tuesday in a Japanese place so I had no room (literally) to talk.  I fought my way past a couple of knock off Radley handbags and Cath Kidston prints 'bar-wards' and a lively pale young lady with purple eyeshadow which made her look like she'd been a Polish POW since 1945 did well to see me through the gap.  "You with the big group?" she asks, and sadly, I said I wasn't.  Surprised, she charged me money for a very nice pint of stout from Leicester, the only time you'll ever hear me say 'very nice' and 'Leicester' in the same sentence.  With zero space, I did something the 2015 Si wouldn't have done and asked two blokes including a young Patrick Kielty if I could share their table which they agreed to.  I pulled my chair back towards the wall, my pint at arms length, as if to say "I'm not invading your space".  Then, came an onslaught on buggies and twogs as if the pub couldn't get any more chaotic, and there was no sign of the party dispersing.  Dryanuary?  That particular memo never reached Wetherby.  As soon as I opened my bag to try and smuggle a cheese & pickle roll, the twogs descended - they're not even meat, gimme a break!  There was still a long time til my bus, but I couldn't sit here any longer, so I braved the cold night air .....

Plot twist : all that is in the pram is a draft copy of the 2020 GBG

Twoggy one

Twoggy two

Random ole' character goes in for the stroke

Starting to clear at the bar

NFL Leeds top man seemed a character of note

I sank my Sinker just a bit too quickly!

I passed the posh chippie which I nearly named my blog after (Wetherby Aler, I'd probably be ripping off the local CAMRA mag name) but I didn't think the Americans and Canadians would get the reference.

To kill time, I found a little footpath down to the river and hovered in the sleet, wondering how cold the water was, and having a wee behind a bridge as the odd dog walker and mad jogger wondered what on earth I was doing lurking down here!  

On the good side, I didn't have to get a bus back to L**ds, as Harrogate was only a 30 minute bus ride away, and I had THREE new pub ticks to do.  Well, it'd be rude not to do them wouldn't it? 

More on that tomorrow night, 

Si 

BRAPA : The Archives 2019 Part 2/2 (York, Leeds, Carlisle & London)

This vintage edition allowed me to get Town Hall Tavern in L**ds ticked off

Five more pubs I visited either before I realised what BRAPA was going to become(!), or I just didn't believe they'd ever get in the Good Beer Guide.  In any case, this is definitely the first time they've been in the GBG since at least 2014.

415.  House of the Trembling Madness, York

Of course, living in York, I had to have done this one, especially as me & my mates visit the 100+ cask ale pubs in the City on a fairly rotational basis most Thursdays.  Not sure when it opened, am guessing 2013, I know my first visit was before September in that year.  I was definitely there on 20th Feb 2014 when the first seeds of BRAPA were forming in my delicate brain.  Many love it, I've never been a huge fan (this pub, not BRAPA!), but that is usually due to how busy, hipstery and full of lapsed vegans it is.  'House of Pretentiousness' is what me and friends call it.  But let's be fair.  It is actually a superb little warp beamed ancient upstairs bar above a bottle shop with good atmos.  Oh the shop, where the staff are proper snobs (my friend once witnessed a lady asking for help choosing a beer for her husband.  She only knew he liked Hobgoblin, so wanted a similar style.  She was told to stop wasting their time and piss off to one of the little local supermarkets nearby).  The thing I remember about my first visit is opening a box on the wall and a big fluffy spider popping out.  There's lots of stuffed animal heads on the walls.  Place smells of meaty foodstuffs and it's quite mouth watering!  There's usually 2 cask ales on, good quality, it's more craft n bottles n cans really but often, the two ales have both been over 6% which isn't a nice choice on a 'school night'!  Quite often you see people queuing downstairs, waiting for someone to leave.  No way I'd do that, so it's off to Three Cranes for a pint of Tetley's.   Back in 2015, we heard it was closing in Oct '18 and moving to a bigger premises, which sure enough opened on Lendal.  Nowhere near the same atmos of the original, even poncier (I did that as a pre-emptive a few months back) so was amazed when it was the supposedly soon to be closed original that made the GBG!  I had a job explaining this to my fellow pub tickers who I think thought I was making the whole thing up!  Bad enough Adlington has two Spinners Arms.  It's still open as far as I know, something must've changed, or it the power of a CAMRA GBG entry keeping them alive?  Hmmmmmmmm.  Whatever, I know a dude called Mark T who has had 612 drinks here!

416.  Eagle & Child, York

Staying in my home city, and if I was surprised to see HOTTM in the Guide, my jaw positively hit the floor when this Leeds brewery pub made its debut in the 2019 edition.  First visit on 2nd Dec 2015 was easily the best.  I left my wallet at home (that wasn't the reason) so I had to lurk around til my friends arrived.  The bar was far too tall for a short ass like me but stood on tip toes and got this amazing pint of Ginger Marmalade from the infuriatingly great Brass Castle, served by this incredible barmaid, the likes of which I've not seen in York before or since.  We went upstairs, it was all very nice.  But with each of our next half dozen visits, it has somehow got worse each time.  Not meaning the ale, that is always good quality (Good Beer Guide eh, clue in the name!) but the upstairs rooms are ALWAYS ALL RESERVED.  And the nice side bar I used originally, they just stopped serving people at it til I finally complained "why have it if you don't serve people at it?" and last time, it had miraculously vanished.  Power of BRAPA?  Coincidence?  Oh, and the door is stupid cos you get stuck half way in it, never known a pub door like it.  I think HOTTM is a wonderful pub by comparison, now I think about it!

417.  Town Hall Tavern, Leeds

The first GBG I can see this in in my 'era' is 2005 so am guessing about Oct 2004 for my first visit here (I'll have gone to L**ds Waterstones one lunchtime, and seen it whilst browsing).  I used to do this thing called the LLAC (Leeds Lunchtime Ale Challenge) where I took a couple of work colleagues to a L**ds pub on lunchtime, funnily enough.  There was an LEAC evening version but it never caught on.  I remember coming here on a sunny lunchtime with a bloke called Mark Dobson and a lass called KFK who never seemed to warm to me, but the feeling was mutual.  It was full of oldies smoking and chatting to us, and I think Tetleys or Timmy Taylor Landlord was all you could get.  I remember coming in here with the good John Watson, who'd travelled over one evening from York probably later that winter for an ale crawl (we didn't call it LEAC though) and think we enjoyed it though v.smoky again.  I think it became very Tim Taylor after that, can remember seeing the full range.  It had lots of L**ds decor including the rugby and football (spit!) team.  So I was very amused when I'd forgotten all about it for a bit and then in about 2010 I heard a team at work had their Christmas do here!  Those who'd known it before weren't impressed, said it was all dining led, food not great, atmos gone.  I think I did pop back in sometime in last 10 years but can't really remember.  Time for a re-visit I suspect?  Have they made it pubby again?  We'll see.

418.  Beehive, Carlisle

In that difficult period of my existence when I'd started going to Hull City away games regularly, wanted a pre-match pint, but had no idea what any of the pubs were like (partly because I didn't know the Good Beer Guide existed), me and Dad came to Carlisle a few times, parked on the road between Brunton Park and this fairly chunky pub, and went in mainly cos it seemed near to the ground and didn't look totally terrifying!  I see it is Greene King, Marstonsy and Sky Sportsy now, and that is sort of how I remember it then.  I was a Guinness drinker when I first came in back on April Fools Day 2000.  A lucky pub perhaps as Hull City won 4-0.  A year later, 5th May 2001 we came back to Carlisle for a pointless end of season goalless draw with the good John Watson, did we come to the pub this day too?  I can't remember.  It was my final visit, 25th August 2001 (another 0-0) I remember best as we'd stopped (Appleby, not Richie?) for an Omlette on the way (such novices back then) in this dodgy cafe with weird staff and by the outskirts of Carlisle, I'd puked everywhere!  I practically crawled into the pub, a nice pint of Guinness sorted me out, and then Dad who'd been ok started making these crazy gurgling noises from his gut and went pale, I remember moving the huge pub menus away to under the table so he didn't have to look at images of chips and steak!  Then he put his head on the table, I said 'there there' and went off for another Guinness.  What great days.

419.  Skinners Arms, St Pancras, London

From 'feeling faint and having pains in the pancreas' to St Pancras.  Seamless link.  The date was 14th April 2012 and me, Dad and Tom (and possibly Ben and Christine) were coming back from an away 1-1 draw at tWatford which may have been a lunchtime kick off(?) for some post match refreshment in London (no point looking for ale in Watford is there?  Well there wasn't then anyway).    The complication was that BOTH Liverpool and Everton were in the city for an FA Cup Semi final.  On the way out of Vicarage Road, Tom had asked a yellow shirted bloke the score and he'd said Everton had won.  So we tried the Bree Louise but there were people spilling out like Euston puke, so we turned back away towards Kings Cross and found this place down a side street.  We congratulated a Toffeeperson at the bar who looked a bit confused, and then we retired to a booth in the far corner which was showing highlights of said Semi Final.  And then it became clear Liverpool had actually won right at the end, ooops, but I remember thinking quite a nice smart cosy pub, better than many divey rubbish we'd been to in this area!

So there we go for another year.   Hard to think the 2020 GBG will through up any pubs which make me think 'hang on, I've not written about that bunch before!' but I thought exactly the same thing about this edition so who knows what surprises we'll have in store.  Roll on September (sort of).

Si

BRAPA - Life's a Wisbech / A Glatton for Punishment / Ramsey Treat / No Votes for Coates

Okay, so not too sure about my pose for this one, but after a delightful experience in Leverington, a quirky stance in Wisbech probably reflected my mood as I prepared to push that mysterious red door and enter pub three of the day, along with Martin "RM" Taylor, in my quest to crack North Cambridgeshire for a final time (well, until about 2035 anyway!)

1457 / 2428.  Red Lion, Wisbech

The bar area was awash with peculiar old men blocking and making strange fenland remarks.  The poshest one reminded me of Bunny from Harry & Paul, not saying he was a 'frightful quair' but he had ears of a length that only 100 year old men from Cambs could have, plus a spectacular tweedy waistcoat thing.  He turned in amused fashion as me and Martin tried to squint through the crowd at the bar.  This, my second Elgood pub out of two, probably the only two I've ever been to in the GBG.  Martin says it is rare for their pubs to get in the GBG.  Back in 2001, a bottle of Black Dog was one of the first ales I ever tried.  "I might go for that Mortal Wombat guest ale" I says to Martin.  "Arrr, you should, they're all raving about it" says Bunny, indicating the other blokes at the bar.  "Where are you from?" he asks.  "Yorkshire" I reply.  "Ho ho ha ha he he" he says "WELL YOU MUST TRY IT THEN!"  I didn't follow the logic but I laughed anyway.  The pub opened up into something a bit more dining-led, but was still very much a homely pub for the most part.  My Mortal Wombat was limp and lifeless, not good condition, drinkable but poorest of the day.  Martin sent me the wrong way to the loo.  I collided with a waitress, she put me right.  Martin was laughing, she was laughing.  Everytime she walked past me after that, she laughed.  I felt it was cruel.  In the actual loo not recovered from that, I shout "YOU BASTARD!" in relation to Martin's trick.  Little did I know, a quiet man in a gilet with glasses was lurking at the sink.  He looked terrified and scurried back to his Checkatrade wife.   I felt awful.  This wasn't a bad pub, red and warm, but it wasn't kind to me.

Friend of Bunny eyes up range of Cambridge Bitter, London Pride or Mortal Wombat

Sums up how I felt in this pub

Apologies to gilet bloke.  Here he is recovering from my outburst.

Time to get out of that funny north east pocket of the county and wind our way back along the A605 to this strange little 'blink and you'll miss it' place called Coates.  Here's my BRAPA map at the start of play in case you are interested ......

(Ignore the places with the buildings only cos these are just breweries)

'Blink and you'll miss it' could also be applied to our next pub ..... there was a sort of sign on the road by a gravelly car park, but where was the actual pub?

"It's behind you!"

1458 / 2429.  Vine, Coates

You know the drill by now, find the pub sign, find the pub name, stand underneath, get photo taken.  No chance.  As me and Martin circumnavigated the building in vain, it became clear the strange little building, a sort of cross between a static holiday caravan, a show home and your auntie's conservatory was indeed the pub.  Locals were now staring out at us, calling the Neighbourhood Watch, so we thought we'd best go in.  "It's had a recent refurb" said Martin, and you could still smell the paint on arrival.  Atmosphere?   You'd have more chance of finding Morrissey and Nick Bruels exchanging recipe ideas on a Come Dine With Me special.  Was our sullen barmaid, a sort of more acceptable Katie Hopkins (with an element of Clare I used to work with) going to speak?  No.  Martin broke the ice.  "The Good Beer Guide says you open at 9am, is that actually true".  No it wasn't.  Where had the local TWAMRA got that bullshittery from?  No one knew.  A mystery.  I sat down with my Old Charlie.  That's a beer.  It was better than Mortal Wombat.  Martin, hardcore as ever, jumped on the Rutland Beast.  There were three locals (one a dog, probably), lounging around behind us.  "Would you ever initiate a conversation with them, with them being the only other customers?" asked Martin.  "No I wouldn't!"  Neither would he.  We sat and supped, I kept thinking someone was going to try and sell me a washing machine or a new PC.  I reached into my bag for my GBG and highlighter.  "DON'T DO IT!"  shouted Martin.  "What?" I replied, shocked by his sudden outburst.  Seems he thought I was about to pull out a gun.  Looking back, it's kind of understandable.

What remained of Martin, and the pub,  post shooting

Oh well, onwards and upwards.  But when I say upwards, I mean in a geographical sense downwards, as Martin told me this next pub was the 'lowest' (below sea level?) in the entire Good Beer Guide, now that the Holme and other Ramsey entry have been taken out.  

In the north, we tongue-in-cheek say that seeing a shopmobility scooter outside a pub is a sign of quality.  In the same respect, our southern counterparts favour a skip.

An even better sign perhaps, was outdoor pub bench seating, an epic statement of intent .....

And walking up the corridor into the pub, inflatable off-season Santa was sort of terrifying ......

1459 / 2430.  Angel, Ramsey 

Yes, it is always when you least expect it that the classics creep up on you.  Not so much like a pub from another time, but more like a pub from another world.  And to think Martin almost didn't join me, he'd been in here recently but don't think he'd found the magic that we encountered today.  How to do it justice or compare it to something else?  Halcyon Quest in Prestatyn was Martin's best guess, I felt it had something of a Ploughman at Werrington vibe about it, almost WMC, but better.  It had keg Bass for heaven's sake!  You certainly couldn't remain inconspicuous, you'd have better chance in a tiny Micro in GMR.  The beer was perfect quality, old etched windows, a lady called Jo who'd just downed 4 pints of Goose Island before we could blink was understandably very sociable.  Her partner Steve was having a bitter Pool tournament with the landlord.  1-1 with the decider to come.  I was enthralled.  Jo asked if me and Martin were together.  Hahaha.  "HELL NO!" we replied.  "Oooh, hope you ain't offended" says Jo.  'Nahhh course not' we said, lying through our teeth.  I've probably forgotten other details of this gem (the 5th pub of the day is always the hardest place to go and get a result).

Martin up for a bit of keg Bass later on

Perfect ale and great crisps too!

Action shot

Pub was probably on a slope

One pub left then, as we wound our way west along dark country lanes towards the village of Glatton, south of Peterborough, for our final tick, and my FOURTH last in Cambs in this current GBG. 

It took some finding, surely on the main road, and if not, you'd expect some kind of sign to turn off into the village, so we had to stop and regroup.  Am sure Megan would've found it first time!  Only kidding (I told her today at work she had to accept she'd not won the chauffeur challenge but if she can get me round Devon, West Wales and Orkney by the end of the year, I'll revise my verdict).

So yeh, I was aware it was dark but this was the kind of 'non light pollution' blackness that the weirdo Welsh bloke Dylan Thomas used to harp on about.  Still, we got there eventually!

Me : getting there eventually

1460 / 2431.  Addison Arms, Glatton

Having said that, it wasn't so much 'Under Milk Wood' as 'Over Soy Forest' as we entered to a rather spacious pub, mainly kitted out for dining (but very much a pub pub!), not a soul in sight, bit Mary Celeste in a way.  The barmaid was excellent (she almost got to highlight the GBG entry but just disappeared for too long, I'm sure she'll have sleepless nights if she knew that) so I asked her "are you tellin' me that this is will all be full of diners tonight?" and she said yes, we'd timed our visit perfectly and this was the 'calm before the storm' and her fave time too.  As I supped my pint of Fool's Nook by Digfield (I liked the colours on the pump clip ok?) , Martin had spied a fish tank right behind us (always a sign of a good pub in my experience) and saw a fish that looked like Nemo and was cooing over it like some Disney princess, but I'm only jealous cos it swam up to the glass for him but swam away from me!   I was more distracted by a weird wooden twog, which had his own bowl and bones, which looked more like bones of missing schoolkids if I'm brutally honest with you.  Nice pub all in all, though give it an hour or two and the review may've been less favourable.  

Back in Peterborough, we popped around the corner to the excellent 'Spoons Drapers Arms where Martin got his 58th coffee of the day and I got a half of summat Plymouth based (not gin), here we are:

Martin's shaky hand, can't be surprised by this point!

He gave me a couple of Peterborough pre-emptives which I promptly forgot as we said farewell, so I thought it sensible to get back to the station, find a cafe, and have a nice coffee to sober me up.  

But nothing was open, no seats in the waiting room, it was still freezing, still a while til the train, so I went off to my other 'go to' Peterborough pub the Brewery Tap.  A nice bottle of Smirnoff Ice would be a good change of pace wouldn't it?

Don't be silly, I went for a Scarlet Macaw and it wasn't too crazy in here this evening compared with my last two or three visits:

 Back on the train, it'd been such a hectic day, I'd barely been aware of yet another Hull City amazing win against the most awful club with the best nickname ..... 3-0 v Sheff Wed and I can't believe this run of form.  Dad rang me and said it was so amazing, we should def go to Aston Villa next week after all,  so I hazily said 'good idea' and revised the BRAPA implications of such a move.

Live footage from the match

So that was all brilliant then.  Thanks so much to RM, and to Megan for Friday.  Had a few chauffeur offers recently around different places so might have to make it a full blown FA Cup style competition at this rate!  It's a bit of a crazy week, hardly time to breathe, so hoping by Fri/Sat I'll be back on course for BRAPA fun.  

Bye for now, 

Si