January 2024. Hartlepool.
11% Imperial stouts have a lot to answer for. My plans to use 2 nights in Hartlepool as a base to tick pubs in Sunderland, Morpeth and Hexham went in the bin after overdoing it in the Golden Smog, and I never wanted to drink again as we parked up in Travelodge’s car park on Friday morning.
Mrs RM said she was never going in a pub EVER again, not even the Temperance Hotel,
then promptly nipped in the Spoons where she spent the next five (5) hours until the Travelodge opened drinking black coffee and those Dalston rhubarb sodas.
The Ward Jackson had a decent cask turnover, pretty much all the £1.65 Ruddles, and a lively, mixed, crowd,
has the dirtiest loss I’ve ever seen in a JDW, all four cubicles unusable, which makes you wonder what the little squiggles on the hourly cleaning checklist meant.
So I left Mrs RM after refilling her tea cup a 3rd time and headed for “Cultural Hartlepool“, which I assure you exists. Check out Blackpool Jane if you don’t believe me.
In fact, the culture starts across the road from the Spoons, at the former Christ Church. It took Mrs RM to appreciate the fantastic contours on display here.
Inside you get a church’s worth of accessible art (it’s no Turner Contemporary),
and 4 walls packed with some wonderful stuff from the Hartlepool Art Club, all in sale from £20 to £2,000.
When I brought Mrs RM back the next morning half of it appeared to have been sold, and Mrs RM cruelly said I couldn’t but the shark from the children’s play area.
Much better loos here than in the Spoons, and a nicely inclusive sign on the door.
“Whatever, just wash your hands” neatly sums up my position on many matters.
Five minutes over the railway line (NB Rat Race closed at this point) brings you to the Wingfield Castle, which would make a nice party boat,
and the museums, with HMS Trincomalee towering behind.
Jane paid to see the boats, I stuck a donation in the tin and took a look around the social history exhibitions, which I’d say are on a par with those in Hull and Doncaster.
60s fashion, the unexplained human fish,
and a neat section on Castle Eden compete with displays on the monkey hangers.
30 years ago Castle Eden, ubiquitous in the early Whitbread Hogshead, was my way into real ale.
Such a shame there was no-one else, not a soul, to enjoy it that day.
The UK’s provincial social history museums, largely free, are what makes this country great (along with Bass bankers and parmos, obvs).
retiredmartin 
This post really makes one want to go there. Wow.
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You may remember the Mark Johnson post on Hartlepool pubs;
http://www.beercompurgation.co.uk/2022/12/the-ten-pubs-that-made-me-part-2.html
Loads of good stuff on there, although it’s far from a great pub town (Kidderminster might be a good comparison).
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I only need one great pub!
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Talking about museums -the one in the Guildhall Rochester is pretty good -we did half & saved the other for another visit (my attention span is rather poor )
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I’m the same, Pauline, like to be in and out in an hour max. I will do the Guildhall next time; the cathedral was surprisingly interesting.
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Did you not pop into the Camerons visitors centre?
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I thought the Anchor was the visitors centre, I’ve no interest in visiting actual breweries !
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Often, the more interesting the beer the less interesting the brewery tour. There are exceptions, Cantillon, Urquell, Adnams, for example, but I haven’t done a brewery tour in years. I’d rather just drink the beer in a good pub at or near the brewery.
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I like to be walking when I’m not sitting in a pub or writing this blog or occasionally sleeping, and the idea of walking round a pub at snail’s pace listening to technical talk or history fills me with dread.
That said, I recommend a visit to Marston’s (Banks’s) in Wolves as the guide was great and the bar at the end was a revelation.
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I’ll have to try it, and yes, the quality of the guide is key.
Bizarrely, I quite liked Maison de Leffe in Dinant. It was free flow, no guide, which probably helped.
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That statue immortalized BRAPAs “Angry Babe”
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I only know four things about Hartlepool: in Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads, Bob and Terry refer to it as the epitome of a grim seaside town, Brian Clough and Peter Taylor began their football management career there in the sixties, they once elected a man in a monkey suit as their mayor, and when he was its MP Peter Mandelson allegedly mistook a tub of mushy peas for guacamole in a chip shop there (a story which if it isn’t true should be).
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Im sure they referred to it as British West Hartlepool.
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Never knew that. Fascinating history.
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That picture of Healthful Hartlepool caught my eye because it is right in front of me in my kitchen as I write this. Weird.
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I love that pic, Harry. Of course, anywhere on the coast would have been healthy in industrial England.
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All being well I shall be in Hartlepool for a while next Saturday.
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Strongarm on the Headland in the Globe ?
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I was thinking of the Rat Race and the Anchor and am not sure if I’ll have time to get that far.
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