Another short post anchored by a picture of healthy food for you.
With the trains back up and running into Sheffield, my parental duties for the day were done.
I dumped the car in my secret free parking space (Quosh would be horrified) and headed for the trams.
Quite a pleasant trip out to Bury, but a real dearth of GBG entries over the years.
Holt pubs to the south of town, Thwaites to the north, micros, Spoons and gastros in the centre.
But few people come here for pubs. The market was packed.
Speaking of fish, I did Thirsty Fish first, just in case it closed at 2pm or something. You never can tell with micros.
I’ve probably brought you reports on at least 27.5 micros like this in North-Western towns from Southport to Chorley.
It’s hard to be critical; £3 a pint, support for the local football team, blues at a decent volume, NO CHILDREN AND DOGS sign.
It’s just I like children and dogs and Prosecco and silly behaviour in pubs. Why should Life After Football get all the fun ?
The chap serves me a half of Tetley in a pint glass. Full marks for that.
It’s a complex drop of Tets, which compensates for it being a bit less than bursting with freshness (NBSS 2.5).
Not a lot of banter, but a Proper Manc was conducting a mobile conversation at volume 11, ostensibly about his supper.
In the market, another husband and wife seemed to have made the epic journey all the way from Bolton to sample Chadwick’s black puddings. Moist, crumbly, messy.
They shared a £1.30 pudding (“an hot one?” asks the lady) smothered with mustard and picalilli.
I followed suit, but had one all for myself, because I know how to live.