
On Thursday I was at a loose end, with Mrs RM still sorting out “family matters” in Tunbridge Wells, so I decided to walk down to Sheffield Station and jump on the first train on the board, after nipping in the opened-that-day Cafe Tucci for a focaccia sandwich for the trip.
You can see where the folk in Cafe Tucci come from.

Oh look, Wakefield calling.

Last time there with Leon I drank a pint of Landlord in 20 seconds; let’s take some time to appreciate the city, shall we ?


OK, that’s enough of that. It’s rhubarb you want.

There’s a rhubarb festival this month. Send me a SAE for full details.
I’m interested to see how town centres are bearing up post-Pandemic.

Sadly, it’s too quiet. Pontefract was busier last year, but then they’ve got liquorice.
Wakefield has an impressive enough cathedral, I guess that’s why it’s a city, but it was closed.

Not doing too well, am I ? How about a pub ?

Perhaps save that one to last. But I’ve only got 94 minutes anyway, having mistakenly bought those cheaper Advance seats which you have to take at a certain time.
94 minutes, and I want to do justice to Wakey, and its museum, and the quaint streets round the Town Hall.

But first of all, let’s do a “contentious tick”, shall we ?

The Jolly Boys Cafe was voted into the GBG by Wakefield CAMRA but due to “administrative error” (the sort of error that meant I got my Guide a fortnight after BRAPA, doesn’t appear in the book/app. Wakefield CAMRA want you to know that it SHOULD be and that you MUST visit it. So I did.
This error has seen the Pub Tickers fractured into two camps;
1.Those who feel sorry for Jolly Boys and will not sleep till they’ve ticked it and adjusted their spreadsheets accordingly to include it.
2.Those who go “Had your chance, blew it”, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang style.
Those in camp 2. are heartless but may be delighted to see my pics;

Yes, plain modern beer bar with microbrews and me the only customer.
I had something called “Double Citra” or similar which tasted end of the barrel so I did my appalling “Excuse me, I think this may be the end of the barrel” to the barperson who was listening to some deathcore in the back of the pub.
“No, it takes a minute to settle” they replied.
I was defeated by the logic. There was no way I could give it a minute, or even 90 seconds, and then go back and complain it was STILL the end of the barrel.

That would have marked me out as one of those CAMRAs, that lot who couldn’t even get their pub in that flippin’ Beer Guide.
I left it*. And I leave you with the real Jolly Boys.
*But I may return and give them another go, as am all heart.
Looks clear enough, but there again vinegar is clear 🤢
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There was nothing wrong with the clarity, it was just rubbish ! I think the problem was me using my catch-all “it’s the end of the barrel” rather than “this beer tastes rubbish” as then you get back “it’s real ale, it’s supposed to taste like that” (Ballymena Spoons, 1998).
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Are those trees as fake as the grass below them? They look ‘really’ odd.
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Wakefield is now a Radiohead theme park with fake plastic trees and whatever else Radiohead write about.
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Did they think you had a US accent? You are from Waterbeach.
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Possibly a freshly shaved Neandertal?
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