retiredmartin

And just like that, I’m a week behind with the blog again.

A week ago, I was leaving Warrington Bank Quay wondering how to kill thirty-nine (39) minutes before the train whizzed me home tired and emotional to Sheffield. I almost felt deprived of my usual Preston-Wigan-Stockport route.

Time for a stroll, a glance at the shiny new buildings, the high-spec mobility scooters outside the Spoons (top).

Of course, I’d only been to the the Chelmsford of the North recently to tick a new craft bar in the marvellous market, and if I’d have merely glance right toward Time Square instead of left I’d have noticed that Warrington has joined neighbouring Stockton Heath and Alty in having a Costello’s.

A classy night-time venue in the Redwillow mould but a bit more cask-led, I like a beer board that owns up to the Dunham Massey/Lymm/whatever beers tasting of straw.

Nothing wrong with that, I often refer to beers tasting of straw and it’s better than those onion beers that Sheffield Hatter swears by.

I’m much more worried by the sheer number of gleaming handpump in a venue where lager and cocktails are the norm.

I thought that pint of Lymm IPA would be the only one I saw poured in my 20 minutes, but a ready stream of older blokes (i.e. younger than me) proved that wrong, and this was a cool, rich pint (3+) enjoyed with an unexpected Springsteen soundtrack. Unexpected is good.

All Warrington needs now is a few more public pissoirs. Note to BRAPA – this isn’t one.

“Don’t even think about it” says Baa Baa.