Bear with these posts as we get to cherubic Chester next for our Bank Holiday overnighter, but first, a stop in Atherton which I can’t think of an adjective beginning with “A” for.
Just south of Atherton lies Gin Pit, home to a Miners Welfare Club I swear made the GBG a while ago.
Nowadays it’s a town full of gin bars, though the Atherton Tap seems to be doing fine on cask beer, whatever that is.
Now I never hold grudges, but this was my third attempt to visit the Tap in a month, foiled most recently by a closing day moved from Wednesday to Tuesday without notice. Save that treatment for BRAPA, please.
In a nice tribute to Tony Allen (RIP), the Elland Porter (NBSS 3.5+) was served in a Phoenix pub. It was stunning.
Mrs RM needed food though (why can’t folk carry their lunch around like BRAPA ?), and I suddenly panicked. Like Newcastle-under-Lyme or Stockport, Atherton is a drinking town, with barely a bap to soak up the suds.
NO ! Mrs RM, don’t go in there.
Craft keg, including Guinness and Eddinger come, kicking and screaming, to the Wigan pit towns.
Actually, this was a classy place to match anything in Kelham Island, the beer was dead cheap, and the staff charming.
“Brunch” ? Cosmopolitan, mate. Is the Drunker Sailor related to the Jolly Nailor ?
I’ll be honest, the tuna melt was good value stodge, despite the pretence of the salad.
I left a great review, and a tip so large (I miscalculated) they may have called the money laundering police.
But enough of food and drink and tipping, it’s the loo you want to see.
Add a handpump, get in the GBG, make Atherton the next Middlesbrough.