A bit of a confessional tonight (don’t worry, not in a Patrice Evra way).
After finishing Lancashire near Clitheroe I toyed with the idea of stopping for the night at the Red Pump.
But it was a) £65 a night, b) about to close its bar at 8pm.
And the Premier Inn at Preston central is one of life’s treats. Always a new pub, and the unmissable if inadvisable Mick’s Mixed Grill.
I’m greeted by numerous signs telling me central Preston is closed due to Covid, but no-one but a fool pays to park anyway, I’ve a free secret spot near the river.
The Premier Inn smells of detergent, the TV remote is broken and the WiFi doesn’t work. Annoyingly, that form you fill in giving you a Good Night Guarantee or a pint of Doom Bar is nowhere to be seen in the spartan room.
So I need to get my thrills in Pre-emptive Preston.
It seems a toss-up between award winning Plau and intriguing Winckley Street Ale House, and Winckley wins out because the name will appeal to Russ. And I sensed it might close before 10.
WInckley Street, one of the smart streets running from the shops down to the park, looked lovely.
Ale House seems to be about the 6th incarnation in 3 years, and I’m immediately aware it’s not going to be the Old Vic.
Exemplary table service, but I’m allowed to survey the handpumps, raising the R rate by 0.0375 in the process.
One smart looking chap seemingly on expenses finishing a second pint, one young chap impressing his girlfriend by losing on the fruits, and me admiring a stunning (NBSS 3.5+) Buxton Moor Top as the lacings formed a vision of David Moyes’s head.
The jukebox moved from Queens of the Stone Age Electric Six’s High Voltage to Anarchy in the UK. Expenses man joined in, as did the girlfriend on the “I…wanna be, ah” bit. I NEVER sing along.
On beer quality, a GBG cert anywhere in the country, but who knows ?
What next. Oh yes, an aimless ramble and the lure of the Orchard’s bright lights in the deserted market place. Last time here it was just me; there were a good dozen beer people here on a Thursday night.
WHY on earth I went to a microbar when the jewels of Preston lay ahead (let alone two Spoons) I have no idea, but beer does that to you, as Simon is learning.
Even more bizarrely, I ordered a half of cask (NBSS 3) and a pint of De Halve Maan Zot (unrateable, but sensational). At the same time. But WHY ?
The music, I noted, was “great”. Probably Dire Straits.
Could I really have been that p****d by this stage. I think all that work helping Matt move had caught up with me.
And it was at that precise moment I wondered if I was making a giant mistake moving to Sheffield rather than Preston.
retiredmartin 
Neither one can be called a mistake. This choice is good either way.
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What a place! Moyesesque lacings, electric Six and the pistols as well as a singalong. I miss music in pubs
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“but no-one but a fool pays to park anyway, I’ve a free secret spot near the river.”
You’re like my brother, when he goes to Lille, or Tournai in Belgium (but not right now apparently as they’ve closed the border… again). 😉
“that form you fill in giving you a Good Night Guarantee or a pint of Doom Bar is nowhere to be seen in the spartan room.”
You sure it wasn’t under the bible in the bedside drawer?
“So I need to get my thrills in Pre-emptive Preston.”
Good thing you didn’t say ‘kicks’ instead of thrills, or I would have pointed you to BBM’s post on the A514. 🙂
“and Winckley wins out because the name will appeal to Russ”
Agreed. I mean, how can you make fun of a name like Plau? 😉
“raising the R rate by 0.0375 in the process.”
If you’d been on the ball surely it would have been no more than 0.0325? 🙂
“one young chap impressing his girlfriend my losing on the fruits,”
Pretty sure that should be ‘by’ instead of my… unless you were the one doing the losing? 🙂
“I NEVER sing along.”
Not even after six pints? 😉
“but beer does that to you,”
Aha!
“At the same time. But WHY ?”
In that photo below that tall glass looks just like one I posted from the comfort of my home years ago.
Oh wait; here it is:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/EsCWzbouuuKPAThs6
“Could I really have been that p****d by this stage. ”
And on that note, we shall end this. 🙂
Cheers!
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Nice photo, lacks a moose behind it.
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Er…its De Halve Maan! The half moon, not the half hen!
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This is the Lancashire version John.
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Actually half cock, as in rooster.
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Definitely looked like an H on that board ;-0
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Its an M, Martin. Live with it!
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Now we’ve rolled with you here for a good while, and accepted many apparently dubious statements, but “Simon is learning”?????
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Yes, that does sound ludicrous, doesn’t it?
May he never grow up.
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The Dennis the Menace of pub bloggers. Simon the Scandalous?
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