I’m delighted that regular commenter Mark Crilley is receiving recognition for his enthusiasm for proper pubs. Notably in the latest column from Roger Protz (here). Of particular interest is the news that Mark is planning a story whereby an America teenager on holiday in England sets out to sabotage BRAPA pub visits*
Mark is clearly someone who needs no advice about the particular joys of a “Proper Pub“; it looks as if he made one of the last trips to the legendary Macclesfield Castle on his most recent trip to the UK. Now there was a pub.
Mark will also know that necking a crate of Westons Vintage cider on a Newcastle metro isn’t the pinnacle of the suppers craft (but each to their own).
But let me give Mark some advice; resist that fourth pub in quick succession that seems a good idea at the time**.
On the way back from Newcastle Centre to our hotel at Kingston Park (somewhat akin to Barking with it’s multiple budget hotel options), I remembered I’d actually forgotten the family takeaway I’d be sent out for in the first place.
So I jumped off at Gosforth Regent Park and used the half hour between trains to head for Nice Noodles and grab a quick 2,376 calories worth of loveliness.
Except it wasn’t quick enough (to be fair, it was freshly cooked), and managed to miss my train by all of 11 seconds. You try running across snowy roads with a bag of noodles.
Then I needed the loo. You try finding a public loo near a station in 2018.
Enter, the Gosforth Hotel.
A GBG regular on upmarket Gosforth High Street, and as busy as you’d expect at 8pm on Friday. I note that Stonegate have added one of those craft keg backboards since my last visit, so perhaps craft really is taking over the mainstream pub.
Pleasingly the cask seemed to be winning the battle by some margin, particularly the local Anarchy Blonde. I’d still have gone for the Fyne if it had been Jarl, though.
This is just a pleasant community pub for all ages, free of condiment drama and gastro fuss. The nice folk even saved me and my bag of noodles the last table in the house, right by the door so I could make a quick getaway.
The sign to the Gents seemed to be taunting me.
Luckily I (just) made the next train, and miraculously our Singapore noodles were still lukewarm as I made it back. Nice Noodles are Top-Notch Nosh.
I could feel that 4th pint the next morning, though.
*Apologies for the spoiler, Mark.
**Unless it sells Draught Bass, of course.