retiredmartin

April 2023.

“If I was a Lancs GBG compiler, I’d make ‘Briercliffe’ a separate place, but I don’t make the rules” wrote illegal pub photographer Simon in January, during an epic blog catch-up I might soon need to replicate.

And I agree with Simon. While CAMRA argues about how thick the paper should be in the relaunched newspaper, important issues like what geographic heading pubs like the Craven Heifer should be under in the GBG remain unresolved.

So the Hare & Hounds sits under Haggate, while half a mile down the road the Heifer sits under Burnley.

Perhaps next year it’ll be under Harle Syke, a robust Clarets left-back from their 1960 Championship season.

Congratulations to Vincent Company’s team for taking off the clogs and re-joining the VAR circus in the Premier League. I’m a big fan of the town, even if the Guide entries have been a bit thin of late.

Briercliffe Road appears to have some solid looking boozers,

but the Heifer itself is a cut above, adding “ladies who smoke on the porch” outside

to “ladies who Prosecco” inside, humming along to “Sylvia’s Mother” and “Abracadabra”.

You’ll know by now the feature of pubs I value most highly is a diverse range of customers, and here you get Old Boys, pashmina ladies, toddlers and lager lads. And me, forced by custom to score the cask.

Once more agreeing with BRAPA, the Reedley Hallows beer I used to deride now seem well-made, and their Filly Close Blonde is cool and sherberty (I’ve trademarked that term), NBSS 3.5+. And just £3.35 of your Lancashire lolly.

On the TV you get a West Ham fan with a cap, on the wall you get gold discs for “Rage in Eden” and “Complete Madness“.

The walls are smothered in the collection of a 17 year old’s vinyl collection c.1982, just like mine was before I realised gluing LPs to the wall reduced their collectability.

Frankly, I loved it all, but sadly signage like this in the Gents is contrary to the values espoused by CAMRA,

as it implies that only men go to the pub while women stay at home doing chores. Wait till I get to the postcard “humour” in Lincolnshire..