So there I was at Castleford Station at 15:49, with a big sign saying;
“Cas welcomes Leon. Don’t look behind you”
But no-one got off the 15:49, which isn’t surprising as Leon had arrived 10 minutes earlier and sneaked off to the Market Tap.
Which is where I headed directly, but only after going wrong and heading for the Spoons.
Blimey, the Market Tap looks out of place in town, a bit like the Brew Dog in Peterhead.
Approaching it I saw a HUGE queue, which actually turned out to be the queue for Specsavers, ironically.
Inside the Tap, Leon was half way through a pint, and a few similarly looking craft beer aficionados were debating the merits of Brew York Scrumptious Turnip v North Brewing’s Yoyo Yellow or something. How do I know ?
Whatever it was, it was as high quality as the setting, and it seemed a shame that the Tap will be denied entry to the Real Ale Guide on the spurious basis it doesn’t serve real ale.
Add it to the Doghouse and the Junction and you’ve THREE (3) reasons to head for Cas, and I dare say the pies at Castleford Tigers are to die for.
I would have stayed for another, but the train to Pontefract was leaving at 16:18 and after necking a half in 5 minutes we had to scarper. It had taken 6 minutes to check in.
Because it was imperative we didn’t dawdle on the way to the station, I made Leon stop to admire the architectural heritage and the face mask shop.
Fortunately there wasn’t a mask in Chester City colours or Leon would have been tempted, and our carefully cultivated itinerary would have been derailed.
And you’d have missed hearing about the 2 minute pint in Ponte Spoons.