CONFESSIONS OF A ROCHDALE SAMPLE DRINKER

Well, TWO confessions really in this mini-post, as I hurtle towards Rochdale from Manchester for a lightning tick and fail to invite Tandleman, the King of this wonderful area for pubs.

To be honest, Rochdale deserves a return visit, with good curry and four (4) Guide pubs in the centre,

a centre that’s being merrily dug up as part of Town Hall improvements,

or so the lovely barman at the wonderful D’Ale House told me.

Such enthusiasm from young folk these days, this chap telling me all about this sister pub to the Old Post Office in Castleton (not that one) and loads of info about Halifax’s new Vocation bar.

I stood at the bar, another thing I ought to confess to, and over a stellar Pictish I chatted Rochdale and dark beer with a bloke who INSISTED I have a taster of his Wilde Child.

I was about to take a sip of his pint when he got the barman to give me a little taster cup. I took a sip; I can only apologise.

Let me tell you here and now, folks, a pint is the only taster.

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