retiredmartin

The plan was good.

Meet Quosh in Stalyvegas for a quick half in the Crafty Pint (or was it a crafty pint in the Quick Half) and be back at my hotel (well, Oldham Travelodge) nice and early to catch up with the blog.

But I’m not a ticking professional like Pubmeister, and I get easily distracted by shiny things.

Like the Stalybridge Buffet Bar, where Quosh was already a pint to the wind when I actually arrived when I said I would, just like Phileas Fogg.

Now we all know the Buffet Bar is famous as a stop on the vomit party express between Manchester and Huddersfield, but I was taken aback at just how packed it was.

Too busy for me, so we just shared a pint of Landlord that was of good quality but seemed a dull, unadventurous choice, which made me feel pleased with myself.

I promise I’ll pop back soon and do the Buffet blog justice; it really looked magical.

So did the Crafty Pint, to be fair, but then even a micro looks inviting in Winter.

Now, I should have done this on my previous trip out east, but it doesn’t appear on the GBG App map. It really doesn’t.

Blame Bridge Beers, which is next door and stopping the Crafty getting its own red marker. I should ask your prospective MP what they’re going to do about it.

I can only remember three things about the Crafty Pint.

1) The Fyne Avalanche was a cracker. NBSS 3.5 material. NB He did top it up.

2) Quosh (who like Chris Dyson and Matthew Lawrenson knows everyone) introducing me to an actual Icicle Work.

I remembered Mark “The Rev” Revell from the Permanent Damage era, and here he is with Ian McNabb in Stalybridge’s finest music venue (not Legendz). It was great to meet Mark, a true legend of the local scene and proper gent.

3) Quosh’s jacket. Here’s a close-up of Quosh’s expensive jacket and highly collectable Frank button.

“Where now ?” said Quosh, who really is incorrigible.

Well, I had Spoons vouchers, like.

I dropped my mobile phone on that street 7 years ago and still hold it against Spoons, but Mrs RM was desparate to buy a new one and offload her old one so it ended well.

Spoons was heaving, but Quosh “knew someone” who let us share his viewing platform table.

I can’t even remember what beer I had, let alone how witty Quosh was, which he asked me to make a note of in the blog. A shame,as it was pint of the night.

I did notice how in the 20 minutes we were there the table opposite transformed from a group of typical Manchester Beer Festival goers to trendy crafties.

That’s why I love Spoons, you know.

Quosh conceded defeat; he had Halifax to conquer on the Saturday.

On the way back to the station we admired the sights.

Sadly, the lady in front of me was unable to operate the ticket machine and I missed the train back to Victoria, necessitating a quick pint in the one Staly GBG pub I haven’t mentioned.

Stalyvegas may be looking a bit dishevelled round the edges, but the pubs were inviting, busy and all human (and otherwise) life was there.

The White House was wonderful, that rare sense of being welcoming to all, and the pint of Farmers set me up perfectly for an epic crispy beef and Singapore rice back in Chadderton.

Sadly, the Toby Carvery opposite had just called time, denying me the chance to sample their Proper Beer Range.