I’D RATHER MACC…

December 2023. Macclesfield.

The Beer and Pubs Forum arranged a Big Day Out in Macclesfield, in part to allow Stafford Paul to attempt a world record of Old Tom pints in a day or something.

I’d have liked to go, but Mum had something that required my presence on that Tuesday. And then, magically, I wasn’t required, and gloriously Macc was only an hour and six minutes away via Stockport.

Obviously in 2023 NOTHING is quite that simple, the 10:43 from Sheffield delayed due to “train not running ahead due to no driver due to something something“, and obviously when it did leave it was packed like sardines and the toilets were out of order but it’s OK because the Delay Repay system is incredibly efficient. It’s a metaphor for the country; rubbish at the doing, brilliant at the post-analysis.

But at 12:20 I bounded off at Macclesfield Station, along with Pub Curmudgeon, who made the mistake of following behind me while I took photos of the art trail over the bridge.

“Oh, excuse me !!” shrieked the polite society of Macc who had ample space to walk round me.

The view from the platform bridge would be stunning without the car park,

but there’s at least four pubs in that photo, including old perennial the Waters Green Tavern.

This is the “Old Boys” pub, the one that used to say “This is NOT a free house” in their ad in the CAMRA magazine, the one with the proper seating.

The reassuring sight of Stafford Paul greeted us at the bar, warning us off the Bass, which was a shame.

A mysterious figure stood by the fire warming up, shouting “Half of Plum Porter then please Paul“.

No idea where Will had gone, probably up the hill to take photos of cat cafes for Pubs Galore, but he’d left his cap and his notebook so I could take photos of it.

Paul struck a classic Pub Man pose,

while I attempted to discern meaning in the different pattern of laces in the Bass and Titanic (NBSS 3, cool but not drinking its strength).

And Will, on his return, made notes about beer (why ?).

A slightly inauspicious start, I thought, in a pub you’d always include on your Macc crawl even if its dropped out of the current Guide.

A pub set firmly in the ’80s, a time when Haircut 100 briefly ruled our hearts.

And as the dulcet tones of Nick Heyward drowned out four old blokes talking about Bass, I wondered whether our second pub would bring us into the 21st century.

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Published by retiredmartin

Retired NHS, doing long walks around UK and the world to record the great bits. Focused on Good Beer Guide pubs and live music.

8 thoughts on “I’D RATHER MACC…”

  1. Coming back home for the weekend as a student at Staffs Poly in the early nineties, I often caught the same time train from Stoke to Macclesfield and changed there for the stopping service to Manchester. Crossing that footbridge to the opposite platform, I always met the same people in the same order. It must have been part of their daily commute, but it was very Groundhog Day.

    I still haven’t been in the Nags Head, partly because people have always said it’s not a great pub. I’m sure it was a Holt’s house back then.

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    2. No, always been a Robbies’ pub. I think it’s one of those that had a good reputation for live music, put the actual pub itself was never anything particularly special.

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  3. Sunday evening I was bored watching God-shi
    Couldn’t reach remote control, so I had to watch it
    One eye on Harry Secombe, the other’s on the clock
    Five to seven every Sunday we do the Alehouse Rock
    Put your left foot on the rail, put your right hand on your ale
    Stand still ’til eleven o’clock, you’re doing the Alehouse Rock
    Lift the pint in your right hand and tip your head back
    With your left hand wipe the froth off your moustache
    Suck your belly in when you spot fit crack
    Keep your distance in the bogs, and watch the splash back
    When you’ve finished breaking wind, shout: ‘Better out than in,’
    Hide the piss stain round your cock, you’re doing the Alehouse Rock

    In Dundee or in Dunbar, flop your stomach on the bar, shout:
    ‘F off, ginger Jocks!’
    You’re the alehouse rock

    Down another pint and light an Embassy
    Save up all the coupons for a lung machine
    Tap your cowboy boot along to Slade on the jukebox
    Slap the barmaid’s ars, you’re doing the Alehouse Rock

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