TEENAGE DIRT BAGS IN THE PEAK

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Two teenage dirt bags, in fact.

The ones scrambling down towards Castleton from Peak Cavern in appropriate footwear.

Castleton

And the soundtrack in the rather elegant Ye Olde Nag’s Head, as I closed in on completing Derbyshire for another year.

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Solid name, solid pub

And before you ask, this IS the pub young BRAPA just blogged about.

The blog where he moans about a little walking in the peaks as if he’s climbing Mount Kilimanjaro on something.

To be fair, I only had the 25 minute trudge from Hope and back to do. Of course, if you bought a train ticket to Castleton* you’d end up in the suburbs of Rochdale, and probably trespassing on Tandle Towers.  Don’t do that.

Only a second pub trip to one of our top tourist honeypots, 25 years after an average pint in Robbie’s Bull’s Head.

One of life’s many mysteries is why our best loved spots for visitors often have so few GBG entries, e.g. Bakewell, Stratford-on-Avon, Glastonbury and Chatteris.

Plenty to admire in Castleton, though little to distract BRAPA from his One True Path.

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View to the Peaks
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Old pub
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Half mile walk for Guardian readers with expensive footwear

The village was packed on Sunday with dozens of folk hoping to try out their new Sports Direct kit, or buy pointless pieces of rock, or find better Bakewell tart than in Bakewell.

Surprisingly, Ye Olde Nag’s Head seemed to have quite a few drinkers.

Only joking. It was all tourist diners discussing Ronnie Sullivan.

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Quiz !

It was immediately clear how the OSH has made the Guide this year, Sharp’s classic finally breaching the Peaks.

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Some of those beer descriptions longer than my posts

Being a bit of a beer snob, I went for the beer that Melissa Cole brewed, just to annoy Pub Curmudgeon with a hazy half.

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What it says on the chalkboard

Pretty good, in fact a deadringer for the Bradfield Belgian Blue we know and love.  NBSS 3, as you can tell from the lacings.

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It’s MEANT to be hazy you philistine

A decent table though, and a chance to enjoy the Greater Spotted Guardian Reader Family at close quarters. They couldn’t recognise the Wheatus track.

“FIVE nights in Majorca.  ALL IN.  For £140.  140 !!!”.  All with rising intonation.”

All very Peak District, but also all very Sheffield.

I grabbed a minted lamb pasty on the way back to school, as I’m classy.

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*Other “Castleton” misunderstandings are available.

 

 

12 thoughts on “TEENAGE DIRT BAGS IN THE PEAK

  1. I agree with your comments about Glastonbury -we had a night there a couple of years ago& were very disappointed with the pub scene ,although the one we stayed in (The Who’d a thought it I think ) did a pretty decent fry up in the morning

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    1. You picked about the best of the bunch, Pauline, IMO. I’ve had a few nice pints of Palmers and decent meals there over the years, but at a price.

      “Who C’d Afford It?” more like, as some wag once said.

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  2. When I bought my train ticket to Hope last month I specified Derbyshire so as not to end up in Flintshire.
    And I walked to Castleton, though not directly, but used the Bull’s Head – home to Castleton’s best pub cat – instead of the Nag’s Head.

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  3. Between this pub and that micro with the tiny wall-mounted tables, there’s the impression of you and Simon following one another around, visiting pubs the other was just at the day before. But with the blogs coming some time after the visits, perhaps the actual visits weren’t so close together?

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