9th January 2023.

Sheffield has been looking gorgeous this new year, so I can’t be too unhappy about being stuck near home due to rail strikes and a fair few GBG pubs (micros, obviously) deciding to shut for the month. Can’t blame them.

I’ve rediscovered cinema*, might even get a season ticket to The Light, which looked great at dusk. There’s a whole heap of development in the City Centre in 2023; some will work, some won’t.

I’m also starting to discover the joys of Sheffield’s southern suburbs, with a second visit in a week to Heeley’s cluster of Proper Pubs via the charming City Farm,

where a billy goat was auditioning for a role as a future pub mascot.

As a 58 year old bloke in a long coat you don’t really want to be hovering around a children’s farm or adjacent primary school taking photos, however innocent, so best nip in the nearest pub.

Which happens to be the GBG regular Brothers Arms.

First impressions count. I’ve never liked the pub sign. But step inside and it’s another multi-roomed Sheff classic (ANOTHER one).

Honestly, how do they do it ? Like the Sheaf View just down the hill, I don’t really recall anything from my ticking visit 20 years ago, bar that view. But I guess you could have had a stab at the beer range.

Well, except the Stones, which Mrs RM’s Walkley hairdresser (it took nearly 3 hours) told her was back, though I suspect he’s a Madri drinker.

Even though the Abbeydale was 10p cheaper, I felt obliged to have the Stones after that beery debate with Mrs RM that morning, and it was a cool, crisp pint (NBSS 3.5) in perfect surroundings.

There’s half a dozen in, ticking over I guess, just before the Golden Hour.

On the bench seat of a Mudg(i)e’s dream.

You’d expect a pub named (almost) after a Dire Straits album to be playing “Sultans of Swing”, I guess; everyone else is. But instead we got a classic modern female-driven soundtrack I couldn’t have curated better myself.

This actually felt closer in tone to the Neepsend pubs in the North (Blake, Wellington) than the Sheaf View, if I’m honest.

The larger bags of the Pipers are the clincher, though;

Another one to come back to when I can persuade Mrs RM or Will up the hill.

NB More art on the walk back along the East Bank Road.

Can that possibly be Norman Tebbit ?



  1. That’s a proper Staffordshire billy goat.
    We had a trip from junior school to Blithfield Hall where Bagot Goats originated and the highlight of the day was the double decker bus gently colliding with the low railway bridge opposite Wilf and Rosa’s Tavern.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I’m not as young as I was and probably won’t even manage all the heritage pubs.
        Greatly looking forward to it though.


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