The break from pubs didn’t last long. On Monday I was back on the train to Stockport, home of Curmudgeons and cheap bitter.
I was actually headed over the Pennines to pick up a cheap NAD Phono Preamp from Matt.
I presume that’s self-explanatory but here’s a picture.
But Matt, on a first day off since barbers returned, was also keen on exploring Stockport’s potential. How ironic if HE ends up living there.
With an hour till my GBG tick opened (or so I thought). I gave him the Grand Tour.
Bones, the famously sketchy skate park his parents dumped him at while we did the Hillgate pubs had closed down, so the cultural tour focused on Stocky’s many civic treasures.
He’d only remembered seeing the view from the viaduct and across to the pyramid, which is a tad disappointing as we’d remorselessly dragged our lads round the pubs when they were young.
In the sun I’d brought across from Sheffield, it looked splendid.
“Quite impressive, much bigger than I expected” said Matt, who pretended to be surprised to learn that indie legends The Sis Lawrence Orchestra had recorded here.
But, since all 19 year old are interested in is family brewers, it was the view of Robinsons Brewery that I saved for last.
No, only joking. Obviously the only thing teenagers are interested in on a tour of Cheshire’s premier tourist destination is the Redrock entertainment complex.
Just ask Mudgie.