Well I definitely hadn’t been to Whitehaven before.


Words cannot describe how excited I was as I left the train, leaving ill-dressed teenagers clutching bottles of wine in my wake.

They were expecting me;

Nice to be here

Safely back at home I’ve zoomed in on the OS map and saw that,

a) I could have got less wet by getting off at Corkickle, which sounds a riot,

b) No-one told me there was a Quality Corner.

And a Scilly bank

I forgot to tell you that my umbrella had broke in Workington too. Not the posh £16 one, a duffer I bought from Boots. I jumped on it and threw the wreckage it in the station bin.

Ah, a Spoons. Always go in a Spoons that isn’t in the Guide.

Nice bins

Just like a YMCA, they’re warm, dry and you can wear a Santa hat in Carlisle away colours.

37% posher than Workington Spoons

In the interests of science I avoided the interesting homebrew at the bar and had another Ennerdale Blonde to compare with the one I’d had half an hour ago up the road.

Weirdly southern non-Christmas beers

I reckon they sell 17 cocktails with straws for every pint of real ale here, and why not ?

Sort of hypnotic, but not in a Dalkeith way

No seats, so goodness knows I was glad I hadn’t arrived on Black Eye Friday; I’d have never have made the loos.

The actual GBG entry was an attractive 5 minute stroll along Georgian streets, if a complete soaking can ever be called attractive.

Oddly nowt to do with Led Zeppelin

The Vagabond has a superb scuffed sign (top), and I’d award points for identifying which album they’d nick it from but Dave knows already.

Yes it’s Nevermind by Nirvana

Less attractive open hours;

White op times.PNG

Actually, look at the WhatPub entry and YOU work out the Sunday hours. As they advise, get your butler to call ahead (it’s a Tory seat as well).

Aside from the hours, this is all you need to know.

Everybody Loves Raymond

Yes, ALL tables filled with diners or little chalkboards heralding the announcement of munchers. I HATE standing. You can’t take surreptitious photos.

A shame, because the Keswick was a lovely beer (3.5) from a range that seemed determined to span the UK.

Rare McMullen sighting outside its home county

So at least the GBG is right.

Out into the rain in search of chips, or possibly crispy squid.

Market square

Loads of once-a-year pubbers out and about, taking up tables that drinkers will have to themselves in January.

Then I see something called “Gin and Beer It Bar & Kitchen“. Preemptive alert.

Wiki says “The term “jam eater” is often used by the people of neighbouring Workington to refer to the people of Whitehaven”.

In the G&BIB&K they were eating sourdough pizza with fig jam. Up yours, Worky!

But I’m not patient

A group of ladies had beat me my milliseconds to the bar, and were chatting about charity events rather than ordering beer gin.

I gave up and walked out.

Then disaster struck, as I marched straight into the middle of the pointless pole in the middle of the pavement.

Did YOU see it ?

I’m made of tough stuff, of course, but it’s a good thing I’ve sired two sons* already is all I’m saying.

An Old Boy came along, said “Y’allright mate” and sympathised with the placement of the bollocks bollards. I thanks him for his courtesy.

I also thank the lass in Fraser’s chippy who gave me this enormous piece of haddock.

Good chips too

Sadly, that meant I had no need to test the Chinese takeaway scene for you, but I expect you’ll get over that.

*I hope

11 thoughts on “…..WINDED IN WHITEHAVEN

  1. Am I misinterpreting your footnote? Isn’t the implication of “I hope” that you have your doubts about the fidelity of your dear wife? I would expect her to more than mildly aggrieved (unless you know something you’re not saying???).


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