Well I’d failed to be “more BRAPA” at the very first hurdle after the barmaid misheard “pint” as “half” in Dalton but I wasn’t too disheartened joining the hordes heading to Ulverston for the farmers market (they were actually heading over the border to Lancaster to get their nails done but I use poetic licence).
Seven minutes back up the line towards home, an odd feeling so early in the day, with TWO (2) ticks in Ulverston to entertain me.
A decade ago I’d never been to Ulverston at all, just like in the Charlene song, but many stops later I feel like I own the place, not that I could afford one of these townhouses.
This is the town where I famously spent the eve of my 54th birthday (22 December, make a note), when a group of oiks serenaded me with “Let It Go” at 02:41 in the morning.
Just across from The Sun lies Beerwolf, no relation to the Falmouth bar, which had never been open on my previous visits. But it was now.
A micropub and bottle shop is owned by an “enthusiastic CAMRA member“, which sounds like an oxymoron, but the beer range is very exciting and long.
Some excellent reading material among the cans.
I’ve already broken BRAPA rules by having a half, and now I (possibly) break the tickers’ rule by picking murk from S43 of Durham rather than cask, because these craft shops are really all about the keg, aren’t they ?
Baa Baa approves, he likes grapefruit murk. This was wonderful stuff, and at only 6.8% an ideal lunchtime drink.
I’d enjoy this place with some conversation, but it’s too quiet (just me and the guvnor on his laptop) and the soundtrack tells the tale.
I guess it comes to life after dark, but I like daytime drinking. It’s not me, it’s you etc etc.
Upstairs is a room for the Proper Seating fan,
and the eclectic album cover fan,
and the loo graffiti crowd.
Simon will no doubt compare it to Harrogate’s “Major Tom“, and he’d be right, you know. I bet they play that Cookie Monster album unironically in North Yorkshire.
But just as Harrogate needs its Old Bell as well as its Tap, so too does Ulverston (“Ulvie”) need its Robbies pubs as well as its murk.