I sense you folk are a bit down at the moment; what you need is a nice post about an unexpectedly good pub to warm your little hearts.
Dave asked me about places that surprised me, and this one in the Derbyshire Dales sprung to mind.
It’s in Wirksworth, a quiet town just allocated to (checks notes) Tier 3.
What !!! Sorry, you can’t visit the pubs. Blame it on Belper. Or Eyam, I guess, they’re the plague capital of the Dales, aren’t they ?
Wirksworth is a little gem, an old lead mining town that’s turned to unpretentious tourism without losing its grit.
But how would a micropub fit amongst the Bass and Pedi and Abbot ?
We walked the bounds, grumbled a bit more when the best cafe was also closed, ate a Co-op sandwich and tried again.
And, a domestic crisis averted, a door opened at 12:32. As is the way, two Old Boys were already in. I think they lived there.
The landlady was astonishing, and BRAPA can’t get here soon enough. Cheery, irreverent, fastidious about her beer, in fact everything you want in a pub.
“Anyone seen Trevor?”
“Think he had to go to hospital urgent”
At that moment, in walks Trevor and orders his pint.
“That was a miracle recovery, Trevor”
It was clearly going to take more than a trip to A&E to keep him from his lunchtime session and his pork pie.
We wished we waited for our lunch here. The Shiny beer was astonishing.
Upstairs, the Fonz said “Heyyyy“,
and despite being a bit kitsch it sort of worked.
I want to go back.
If you don’t believe me, you’ll believe Life After Football, who beat me here by a year and found an even better mix.
“Yes, there were old crumblies there as well but the upstairs was vastly different with a party of nine or ten teenagers/twentysomethings who appeared to be regulars and fully relaxed whilst it had a bigger mix than any other Micropub I’ve been in“
And if that doesn’t appeal you probably live in Tier 1.
To seal the deal, just up the road is the famed Royal Oak, which always used to be famous for something, but for the life of me….