October 2023. Crewe.
But before Crewe, a few things I saw in Wem that weren’t pubs.
To be fair, it didn’t convince me either, so unless you’re a fan of Victoriana or doors a foot from the ground, I’d saw Wem is for the pub purist or the Joules completist. Or that weird bloke who wants a choice of three Chinese takeaways in a town of 6,000.
Crewe is a hard sell, too, though the billions saved from cancelling HS2* will no doubt be invested to shave 3 minutes off the 40 minutes Wem-Crewe journey. Hurrah.
Our train was virtually deserted, contrasting sharply with (checks notes) virtually EVERY train between Sheffield, Manchester, Liverpool and Leeds.
At Crewe I has 17 minutes before the leg to Stockport, not enough to tick the GBG Earl of Chester, but just enough for the Crewe Hero.
“Search for the Crewe Hero” inside yourself would have made a predictable blog title, but then I’d have had M People in my head all day and that won’t do, oh no.
Technically, this is a pre-emptive tick, but I will give you my ultra-rare Doom Bar bottle opener if it ever makes the Guide.
The ONLY positive thing I can say is that the Moretti was wet. Oh, and it was at least served in a glass, rather than plastic. The photo below is practically the full extent of the interior, before you suddenly find yourself in one of those retail units that charge £2.09 was a Double Decker.
At £3.65 a half (that’s pint, not litre), it should be wet.
Will looked at me with barely disguised admiration contempt.
*Joking, joking. It’s a disgrace.
Martin,
I’ve seen one of those 1887 Jubilee commemorative tiles recently, in Atherstone I think but can’t find it on from the pictures from the computer map. There’s a similar one, though unpainted, on the end of the Three Tuns in Bishops Castle.
I remember the Crewe railway station bar in the 1980s having Wilsons and Boddingtons Bitters on handpump. During those seventeen minutes I expect you might both have been thinking that we should instead have had two hours from Wrenbury for the Bhurtpore and the Cholmonderley Arms.
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The Cholmondley Arms ? Pub of the Year, I hear, Paul.
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Not many people now recall that the Chumbleys were harmless-looking yet lethal small robots, in the fictional television series “Doctor Who”
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Wasn’t that the Chumbley-Warners ?
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Someone’s Pub of the Year, I understand, Martin.
But the Crewe Martin – who I’ve seen in Stafford three times during the past year – comments that “for last year it received a grand total of 6 scores averaging 2.92” so we probably wouldn’t have been drinking as well there as in Wem.
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That plaque is wrong. Queen Victoria was never Queen of Egypt. We ran the show in Egypt but it was always nominally independent with its own monarchy. Dull but true.
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Steady, Bill.
Is that the same “we” who won WWII?
Personally, I wasn’t around at the time 😉
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I use “we” in its broadest sense as in “We beat Sutton Utd 2-1 last night”.
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Better still, Bill. Which reminds me, we’ve not had poor old “tremendous” for some time.
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I have to apologise for not rearranging my expression to one of admiration. The Crewe Hero? FFS.
No, sorry, still can’t do it even two weeks later.
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I had a few pints of Moretti recently – the alternative being return tray beer. I didn’t mistake it for anything other than beer nor my wife for anyone else and so I have no complaint
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I changed at Crewe a fortnight ago with a bit longer to spare than 17 mins, so I ventured three minutes down the road to the British Lion (aka The Pig), a real old school wet led pub with friendly barman and locals. Speckled Hen was the only cask on. The only thing letting it down, or maybe elevating it, was having “It’s all shit and giggles until someone giggles and shits” scrawled on one of the beams. Not sure if it will ever make the GBG with such crassness. https://toot.wales/@rhysw/111240012803637369
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Can you translate that writing on the beam into Welsh, Rhys ? Love your blog.
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I was going to say not quite as English is unique (probably isn’t) in that words can be both verbs and nouns, like ‘shits’
shits (plural noun) = cachiadau
shits (indefinite verb) = cachu
Having said that, a singular shit in Welsh is also “cachu” so this has totally blown my mind, and if I use some artistic licence it can work
“Mae bywyd yn llawn cachu a giglo, nes bod rhywun yn giglo a chachu”
“Life is full of shit and giggling, until someone giggles and shits”
https://geiriadur.ac.uk/gpc/gpc.html?cachu
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Well I think you win some sort of prize, Rhys.
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Rhys,
I remember the British Lion as a lovely Tetley’s pub quite some time ago. I think the new joules setup had it for a while.
The only thing letting down a Rugeley pub yesterday was the, incomprehensible to me, “Always shit on a Tesco carrrier bag” printed on a shirt stapled to a ceiling.
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No idea who own it now, but my half of SH came in an odd tall Joule’s glass, possibly intended for a Pilsner-type beer (do/did they brew such beer?)
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There’s a great pub just out of town that served excellent Bass. Forget the name
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Tesco bag is the derogatory term Wolverhampton Wan*ers fans use for West Bromwich Albion, particularly after a certain 1-5 scoreline of a few years ago.
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Martin,
The Hop Pole was the highlight of our Proper Day out in Crewe.
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The area near the station and the pub did seem a little stark, and now I see the town centre is in another direction and looks lovely from your older posts, but possibly too far for a swift half between trains.
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Yes, very scruffy round the station, and the walk to the Alex ground is “entertaining”. To be fair there’s been a lot of beery development in the centre over the last decade, though I suspect not all of of the sort that Stafford Paul would enjoy.
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Indeed, three minutes in Crewe ( 5.10 to 5.13pm ) was enough on my way home this time.
With thanks to Martin for telling me I was after platform 7, conveniently not far from platform 8.
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