I suppose I better tell you about my Bradford tick then.
But as I stood at the entrance of the Exchange Craft Beer House on the corner of Market Street and Hustlergate at noon, I could see no earthly way in;
Their Facebook said 12:00, other folk who tick pubs had been; they must be setting up.
I popped back into the magnificent Wool Exchange aka Waterstones to see if there was a secret way into the cellar bar I’d missed.
Nope.
12:02. Still no lights on. Grrrrrr. I sent a Facebook message (am technological, me). 12:04, still nothing. Impatient ? Me ?
I knocked, I shouted, I scared the Japanese ladies.
Then I checked Twitter, expecting to see a “Sorry guys, won’t open today as picking up a Bradford CAMRA Pub of the Month award in Saltaire” message.
“We ARE open ?”. I sent them a tweet, letting them know a pathetic creature was outside, trying to get in.
12:07. Nothing had happened.
Hey, John Clarke follows them; they MUST be legitimate. Perhaps there’s an Exchange Ale House AND an Exchange Craft Beer House ?
I decided to walk round the block rather than crying (ticker prerogative).
Oh. There’s the entrance. In fact, the very one Google Maps was now screaming at me that I’d reached.
Sheepishly, I descended the steps.
It’s a wonderful place, and I’m not just saying that as I feel stupid.
Not as stupid as BRAPA will feels when he orders a pint of the 9.8% beer on that bar, of course.
A gloriously decorated cellar bar celebrating the city’s football heritage and Webster’s Green Label.
I commented on the confusion over the entrance to the nice man in charge of the great eclectic soundtrack (Courtney Barnett, King Khan) and hoped he’d say “Oh yeah, you’re not being daft, EVERYONE does that“, but he didn’t.
Instead he poured me a pint of Nightjar so fruity and cool and gorgeous I’ll score it a 4 when I can find the time between in-law visits to add my NBSS numbers to What Pub.
I must take the Southworths in there before a curry; they’d love the beer and it’s a place you need to go with mates.
Later that day the manager followed up my Facebook message.
retiredmartin 
Websters! My unheralded introduction to Cask Ale as an ingenu.. many years ago at Brighouse Con Club..my taste and knowledge of beers has (I think !) increased over the years but sadly not my ability on the Snooker table 😆
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We had full sized tables in the NHS social club in the ’80s. My highest break 15. What’s yours ?
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Oh ..oh…..oh…..in that ballpark figure I think Martin 😀
A kind professional sportsman friend has recently given me gentle pool lessons so I am improving at that in my dotage !
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Know the feeling; years of practise has led to me being extremely good at being crap ;oD
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Websters’ Yorkshire Bitter – a beer that stated life as Pennine Bitter. The former, advertised by a pair of “talking” dray-horses.
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Ah yes Pennine Bitter..would probably be marketed as Grassington Amber Hay loft these days 🤣
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🤣 “Hay Loft Amber”
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Nice looking place. And you shouldn’t feel too bad that does look like an entrance…
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I’ll go a step further and say it’s pretty crazy that they don’t have a sign on that door telling you where the actual entrance is.
Still, it made for a great blog post: a kind of hero’s journey, filled with obstacles, self-doubt, triumph over adversity, and, in the end, the sort of delight one can only experience when reading of someone else feeling a bit foolish. 😉
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“A hero’s journey”. I like that, Mark. We know that if this was Simon’s sixth pub of the day he’d be totally bewildered and attempt to climb in through that roof.
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At least you found your missing Gumption on the bar.
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