The Scottish Tickathon heads west now, towards Glasgow and one of those places that Scots pronounce wrongly to humiliate visiting English pub men.

Milngavie is clearly pronounced “Miln-gar-vey” like the Elbow frontman, but oh no, it’s “Mul-guy” apparently, like the the Elbow frontman.

There’s two identical Premier Inns a few yards apart a mile south of Milngavie station, and the one just into Bearsden is £3 cheaper because it’s not technically in this famed town an the start of the West Highland Way.

Having vaguely recalled Milngavie as akin to Kendal, it’s a bit of a shock to find it deserted later on, more akin to Haverhill.

And I don’t remember the 3D cakes from 2001, either.

I’d booked the Bearsden Premier Inn for the night that will take me into my 57th birthday if I survive the night, and when you realise this is what I ate later (NCTSS 3) from Wutong (not Clan) you may wonder how I survived.

20 years ago the sole cask place in town was a Tetley Heritage pub, but that’s been replaced by the micro-brewery at the station where Pubmeister took a tick in atrocious weather when outside drinking was all the rage.

Jaw Brew clearly serve as the café for the station with a tempting collection of mince pies and tiffins that I resist as I’m saving myself for the crispy beef later.

Lots of keg, one cask. Resist the brownies, resist !

I’ve got 14 minutes till the train to Helensburgh, enough for a half of cask and and a half of the keg stout, surely ?

14 minutes of chilled-out indie while an earnest discussion about brewing takes place at the bar. Why do people feel obliged to discuss the mechanics of beer when they visit these breweries ? I never ask the Chinese takeaway what’s in the crispy beef ?

Well, I get through the Drop easy enough (NBSS 3), but really struggle with an overchilled keg that takes me to within 2 minutes of the train doors closing before I force it down. The difference in temperature between cask and keg must be about 10 degrees.

My stomach hates me all the way to Anniesland.


  1. That’s my principal craft keg beef, often too cold, too fizzy, too sippy not enough gulpy.

    Given the long-standing truism that the nearest pub to the station is always the scuzziest, I applaud the opening of station micropubs. Electrification of mainlines may be on trend, but Railforce (or whatever they’re called now) would do better rolling out a national micropubbing initiative for all stations.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Lots of good points there, Mark, just as I’d expect from a reader called Mark.

      Station micropubs probably work, though the one I really liked at Downham Market even won cider pub of the year but couldn’t stay open.


      1. Yes, very disappointing that, luckily I was working the Fens back then so got to go a couple of times before it closed. Pickled Pig if I recall.


  2. Does “What’s in the crispy beef?” fall into the category of “don’t ask questions which you don’t want to know the answer to”?


  3. Instead of micropubs at every station, it seems more efficient to have micropub rail cars. No more warm tinnies and happy riders.


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