Yes, still more from my Birthday I’m afraid.
Having lost track of time AND forgotten I could only use my return ticket on the Welsh chugger back to Piccadilly, I had 27.5 minutes to kill in Wilmslow. No great undiscovered boozers, no micros, not even some weird street art down a dark alley. Just a spooky church and an empty pedestrianised street.
So the Old Dancer would have to do. It was very decent on our official visit in 2016 when the custom came from a genteel Prosecco crowd; tonight it was lovably mixed.
And I like the idea of staff picks, as long as it’s not gin. No, it was an unusual and extravagantly priced Swedish import. Of course it was.
Very good, but tough going, and I couldn’t afford to be late for the 19.39 and have to spend another hour here. The staff came round to light the candles at 19.30, clearly a signal to leave.
Then, oddly, the bottle seemed to reappear, just as we passed Hazel Grove.
Next stop, no idea. So I popped in the Piccadilly Tap to see if there were any Palace fans still gloating.
The Tap has just (belatedly) got in the Guide, rightly so I always thought. The cask list was fill of beers rubbed out by staff, but it did have ONE standout.
Well. A birthday transformed with Burslem’s finest. Not quite the best ever, but rich and warming (NBSS 3.5).
What happened to the rest of that bottle of Narangi, I have no idea.
I did get some good photos in the loos as well.
Not for the first time in the Piccadilly Tap, it was a bit of a blur.
Still, nearly home now.