Back home in Sheffield (still sounds odd), I realised I’d better start using my Sundays better if I’m going to get that Guide completed.
My scientific research reveals that 188.7% of my remaining GBG ticks will be micropubs, which means they only open on Friday to Sunday evenings (unless the owner is away collecting an award or it’s “winter hours”).
I thought I’d better do the Smithy Arms in Oxspring after six months staring dolefully at it up the A61, just off the Trans Pennine Trail.
There’d been a landslip between Cheese Bottom and the Thurgoland Sewage Works, words I never thought I’d write, but Oxspring is accessible by foot from Penistone Station so Si will be fine.
But he may (we hope) be confused by the Smithy Arms.
Because it’s not in THAT building, that’s the owner’s house. I’m sure they’ll invite him in for tea.
The pub is in the garage. The garage is the pub. Taking man caves to their logical conclusion.
I’ll be honest, I expected the worst. High tables, the owners mates round the walls talking about Untappd log-ins or whatever beer people do. I hadn’t booked, of course, and wondered for a moment if I’d find a pub packed with 5 locals asking me to come back at 20:45 that evening.
But I should have known better. Their Facebook pages since the last Lockdown have been quiet on re-opening but a joy for fans of on-line pub quizzes. Here’s some recent answers;
Plenty of space inside and out and a real mix of local life.
Guess the Questions and win a pint of Stancil No. 7. (cool, tight head, NBSS 3.5+). It was cheery, chatty and bright, reminding me of the homely atmosphere of Belper’s Angel, and I can’t give higher praise.
My conversation with a local about life north of Aberdeen faltered as we didn’t understand a word the other said, or perhaps didn’t care.
Later that afternoon I accompanied Mrs RM down the hill to St Columba’s for her second vaccination. She’d managed to overtake me in the queue by using some algorithm or other I guess, and my own jab wasn’t due for a week.
While I waited outside, preparing to catch her if she fainted, I received a text.
“There’s a spare jab if you come in and ask nicely“. I ALWAYS ask nicely.
5 thoughts on “GARAGE TICKIN’, CHURCH JABBIN’”
The Angel was anything but homely this week, in fact it was empty inside! All the locals were crammed onto the outside seating letting their Citra get warm. What the hell is wrong with these people, we’re allowed inside now, get in, it’s the law!…
The Root House at Roughbirchworth sounds kinky!…
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I’m sure the Arctic Monkeys, born nearby wrote a song about “Kinky’n’Rough”.
You’re right, sun comes out, folk sit outside, as in Heanor micros yesterday.
I didn’t know this pub existed! So thanks for bringing it to my attention, and it is now on Pubs Galore.
By an odd coincidence I was less than two miles away on Thursday this week, just down the road in Thurgoland. You can read about my visit to the Bridge Inn – it’s only a review, not a blog post: https://www.pubsgalore.co.uk/pubs/74651/
So it looks like I’ll have to go back there another time to get a photo of the Smithy…
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It’s a nice review. I’m sure Thurgoland had a pub in the GBG once.
The Smithy Arms doesn’t show up on maps as a pub, bar the What Pub entry, but it’s worth a trip.
Is it a list of the 25 most recent locations of a BRAPA “incident”? And are you certain he isn’t the cause of the landslip?
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