LANCASTER, SO MUCH TO ANSWER FOR

One of the joys of train travel is the uncertainty about whether you can break your journey to do a tick on the way to your main destination. A reminder that Tom Irvin is available 24 hours a day to take your questions on rail travel.

I jumped off at Lancaster at 13:21, giving me 34 minutes to do my tick, take a couple of tourist shots, fail to find an affordable yet interesting bap/cob/barm, and make the 13:55 to Kendal with seconds to spare.

Sound tough ?

Well, Google says 18 minutes walk if I don’t dawdle, so that’s 16 minutes to queue, sanitise, check-in, explain I only want a quick drink, “no, only me“, be asked if I’d like to set up a tab, wait while my half is poured and left for someone else brings it, try to flag down someone to pay for my half, go to the till, be asked to sit down and finally pay.

Honestly, all that happened at the Cornerhouse, the new Guide entry.

AND I got (mildly) rebuked for entering via the exit, having leaped the rope after looking for said “entrance” in vain.

After the Spanish inquisition at the door, I had to choose a table.

No, and thrice no.

That table by the bar looks best, “and I’ll have a half of Swift Best please“. But of course, you have to give your order to a different person than the “greeter”.

So it took me about 7 minutes of negotiation to get that half, 27.5 seconds to drink it, 3 minutes to pay, and 2 minutes to find the “BOYZ”.

And then I exited. Via the entrance, They’re probably still telling me off now.

The less I say about the beer, the better. There’s a CAMRA discount, of course.

That left me about 4 minutes to find lunch and take pretty pics.

I failed on the food.

Since an epic overnighter before the Lancaster City v Cambridge United FA Cup tie (Yorkshire House, John O’ Gaunt, Bobbin) in 2003, I’ve been ritually disappointed (and often ritually humiliated in Lancaster pubs).

Take my advice; NEVER leave Preston.

7 thoughts on “LANCASTER, SO MUCH TO ANSWER FOR

  1. There’s a Nottingham House in Lancaster? Or perhaps you mean the Yorkshire House. That’s not far from the Bobbin, so makes sense.

    I used to live about 100 yards from Lancaster City’s ground, which is called Giant Axe. Another mystery is why Lancaster City are called the Dolly Blues. You could have read my review of the Corner House on Pubs Galore and saved yourself all that hassle, and written an article about Giant Axe and Dolly Blues instead.

    I should be sending you an invoice for quality advice like that.

    Like

    1. I think you’ll find I meant HOUSE in Nottingham’s Yorkshire Quarter. It’s probably too trendy for you, Will.

      I should have got that right, as the Nottingham, sorry Yorkshire House features prominently in some fiction I read on Mrs RM’s Kindle where it’s the rough pub in town and the female lead escapes to London.

      Consider your invoice paid by 3.7 kudo’s.

      Liked by 1 person

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