January 2024. Preston.
On the Friday Blackpool Jane had bravely visited Preston properly for the very first time, and lived to tell the tale (just about).
We arrived just after lunch the next day ahead of a gig that evening at the Ferret, and without a clue how to spend the next 7 hours, but I bet you can guess.
Before we stagger to the pubs, here’s the sober bit.
Normally I find a free parking space down by the river, but today I chose the Bus Station (£6 for 24 hours), because Mrs RM likes using her Ringo app and I enjoy making her walk down grim stairways.
Jane noted the bus station, the biggest in Europe apparently,
“And, I’m not going to lie, it was ****ing impressive.” writes Jane, who has become much more sweary since Blackpool’s league form picked up.
Jane had a tour guide from the Preston North End fanzine editor (“Give it to Finney“), who was no doubt able to point out all the local beauty spots.
Sadly, the wonderful Harris Museum and Art Gallery is closed (see also : Brum) for a no doubt unnecessary update that will focus on highlighting the city’s craft beer revolution. So for now admire what look like entrances to loos.
Preston is a wonderful city, and I’m pleased our favourite Blackpudlian got to fully appreciate the parks, but she seems to have missed Bruccianis Café, where we headed while waiting for the Premier Inn to open at 3. Hotels seem to open for check-in later and later these days.
I don’t know if you can access Mrs RM’s Bruccianis Instagram page below,
but this 1932 Art Deco wonder is one of our favourites in the UK.
Not so much for the coffee and cake, good as the carrot cake was,
but as a relaxed, unfussy, well-priced café (compare prices with Bewleys in Dublin).
Mrs RM was determined to have an afternoon off the booze, so after checking-in I left her to do cultural stuff while I headed off to do pubs in Accrington. Her loss, I thought.
retiredmartin 
“We arrived just after lunch the next day ahead of a gig that evening at the Ferret”
Country and Western ?
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As far from C & W as it’s possible to get, I’m afraid, Paul.
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Was Stafford Paul hinting at the old joke about two nearly deaf old boys walking into a pub where a singer was performing.
One asked the barman while pointing at the act ” What’s he playing ? ”
” Country and Western ” said the barman.
Having got their drinks the second feller asked his mate ” what did he say ? ”
” I couldn’t quite catch it ” said his pal ” but I think he said he’s some c**t from Preston. “
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I’m sure he’s much too polite for that sort of joke…
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Anonymous,
Yes, that was indeed what I was hinting at.
The old ones are the best !
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Blimey I’m shocked.
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“down by the river” reminds me of
youtube.com/watch?v=U6-IDU1MgFM
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All those cakes look pretty good from here.
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They are ! Same calories as 3 pints though.
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But did you (a) have time to check the Market Tavern for cask John Smiths and (b) stay in the £30 a night Sun Inn ?
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a) No. Forgot
b) No. Nearly
But as you’ll shortly see, Paul, I did make a worthwhile contribution to saving Preston pubs.
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And “shortly” should be more shortly than the five Staffordshire pubs.
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I remember having parched peas with a splash of vinegar bought near Preston market. Looks awful, tastes delicious.
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