retiredmartin

August 2023. Gilling West, North Yorkshire.

In the middle of nowhere, between Richmond, Darlington and Barnard Castle, which can’t be bad.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d been to the Angel before and forgot, but it turns out that was the White Swan (RIP) across the road, home to sumptuous fish and chips and so-so beer in 2017.

I’m divided on the merits of the Angel’s sign.

On the one hand, I detest pub signs where the name is depicted with the initials (e.g. BH for Black Horse), but at least it looks like an angelic “A”.

With the White Swan long-term closed you might expect the Angel to have picked up a bit of a gastro edge, but it looked as resiliently “locals pub” as you could wish.

Landlord looked the obvious choice, but the tell-tale bubbles suggest otherwise.

It was OK.

Nice seating, a soundtrack from the underrated mid-90s “naff pop” period,

and the Grumpy Old Men’s Club replete with grumpy old men in hats.

Sometimes, that’s all that needs to be said.