It was a struggle to leave the No.2 Refreshment Rooms, so being chased out of the ladies loos was probably a blessing in disguise.
I can’t imagine what goes on in the ladies in the No.1 Pub, a wearying 20 seconds Stomp away (see what I did there Dave ?).
The No.1 wasn’t great when I visited in 2010, but of course a certain beer will guarantee a return visit from me. I’m sure you can spot it below;
The Draught Bass (NBSS 3) was a classic northern pint, slipping down much too quickly. Quite creamy, much in the style of the Wetherspoons earlier. Pub Curmudgeon described “the long pull” effect in a comment on the last post, and that seemed evident here too. I can’t imagine drinking this in halves. Or the Batemans.
The pub is another cracker. The main bar was full of folk enjoying a ’70s night, and the (very decent) singer was working the room. She’s hiding underneath the red lamps below.
Last time here it was full of Grimsby Town fans; I’m not sure what was scarier. It felt like karaoke night at our local village Social Club, and you can draw what you like from that.
Realising our star wasn’t going to be accepting requests to sing Fleet Foxes standards, I edged round into the other bar, where the Real Ale Corner was hidden.
You could see your feet, but all the table were taken here too. It really was bouncing, and if real ale was making up a tiny percentage of sales, it scarcely mattered.
Simon would have loved it. Blokes dissing their father-in-laws, flicking soggy Worthington beer mats, a drunk Carling drinker (is there any other type) giving his age;
“I’m thirty-two, three, seven”
We just don’t have pubs like this in Cambridge (or London), certainly not in the Beer Guide. And Cleethorpes has two of them side-by-side.
Hit the North, as someone once said.
Now I’m “Getting’ to the Good Part”, but you’ll have to wait till tonight for that as I have to get to a pub that promises it’s open all day but I bet will close at 3pm, once the diners leave.