Our final pub as night descended on Macclesfield wasn’t even on Bing Maps, having only just reopened after 6 odd years closed,
and I’ll admit even a Macclesfield regular like me temporarily forgot the exact spot tucked away in the lanes leading up from the station before I recognised the lovely lane and black and white.
Mark Crilley has been asking me about it ever since, and I’m delighted to tell Mark it’s a triumph.
Perhaps too much of a triumph, as it was packed on Friday with all of East Cheshire converging on the hatch bar. As Mudgie notes, “the stickler for social distancing would have done well to give the Castle a wide berth“.
I did manage to squeeze through to the bar,
and nab a seat in the corner where I was probably sitting on someone’s coat, but never mind.
Oh, yes, it was the smiling chap on the left’s coat.
After I went to the loo, which I’ll never find again, it was standing room only on the street under the stars, but that’s no hardship when the company is as good as Jon, Will and Oxford Nick. Oxford Nick becomes plain “Nick” on his 3rd Codger trip.
The beer was tremendous, cool and rich, but it was secondary to the atmosphere of a born-again pub.
Don’t lose it again, Macclesfield.