retiredmartin

April 2023.

I had my Blackburn tick, I had my free bed for the night next to a graveyard in Oswaldtwistle*.

To be fair, a very nice graveyard.

But what to do now ? It’s only 20:45, the night is still young, even in greater Accrington.

Oh look, there’s a pub.

Last time here it was the Black Dog, now here’s the White Bull. Expect a Mauve Rabbit next time.

There was NO earthly reason to go in the White Bull, except that it was literally staring at me across the road from the campervan, and I always have an odd urge to visit a real, down-to-earth, scuzzy Thwaites boozer when in east Lancs.

Clearly, this isn’t a down-to-earth, scuzzy boozer;

Too late now.

“Hi chief, what you after ?”. I (really) love the familiarity of young folk at the bar.

Time to choose. Where’s the Wainwright ?

Honestly, I never knew Thwaites had sold off the Wainwright and Bomber brands to Wolves and opened a craft brewery for its smaller brands up the road in the Ribble Valley. Or if I did, I’d forgotten. Some people obsess over stuff like this.

But I love those simple pump clips and the Original is lovely and foamy (NBSS 3+), even if I’m the only cask drinker that night. One couple did arrive at ten to nine, but they weren’t choosing cask, or even live beer.

The menu was startlingly gastro, full of baby leeks and celeriac and truffle powder. At least everything was priced properly on the menu, and the pork pie was under a tenner.

And what on earth is “lue” Cheese Sauce. On second thoughts, don’t tell me.

I resisted the lure of the Truffle + Parmesan fries, but suddenly felt hungry again.

*I’d been spelling it Oswaldthistle for 58 years you know.