March 2025. Ripon.
First time in Ripon in at least a decade, I thought,
till I remembered it was only we stopped here in July to avoid a hold-up on the sweltering A1 and be mildly disappointed on a return to the Water Rat.
Now it was the lure of some nearby bloggable National Trust sites that lured us to a car park with £2.40 for 24 hours and apparently no restrictions on overnight parking.
It’s not a place I’ve ever warmed to, scruffier than you’d think for a horseracing town city with graceful cathedral at the entrance to the Dales.
As with Thirsk across the A1, it’s parking in the town square that leaves the scars.
Why (oh why) do you need to park in the attractive centre when there’s so much cheap parking 2 minutes walk away ? See how grumpy some folk get about parking once they reach 60.
Go past the obligatory black and white butcher,
eye up the bright orange tapas place for tea,
and head up “quirky” Kirkgate with its inevitable scaffolding (bought as a job lot from the last Cathedral refurb),
and attempt to find the entrance to the Portly Pig.
Now, here’s one of those contentious issues that keep the vibrant GBG ticking community awake at night.
The Pig debuted in GBG25 but was almost immediately deleted due to the infamous change of licensee. Technically, no need to tick it, but here it is, 3 pint pots for beer quality on What Pub,
begging for inclusion in GBG26, and delivering one of the best pub experiences of the year.
The folk here are SO cheery.
“What do you recommend ?” I ask.
“What sort of thing do you like ?“
“I drink anything !“. Mrs RM glares at me.
The nice lady recommends a cask Hambleton and a keg imperial stout for Mrs RM, both delivered to our upstairs table with some complimentary (sweet) popcorn.
We can argue if this is a “Proper” pub, but there’s a great mix of custom, the seating is comfortable, and it’s a rambling gem of a place.
A group of young women next to us are playing cards, some blokes next door are actually talking to their children, a few older folk are glued to their phones.
And the local cask is cool, crisp and tasty (NBSS 3.5+). Are we staying for another ?” asks Mrs RM, who’s drunk her 10% Impy much too quick.
“No”.
retiredmartin 
One of Britain’s smallest cities. It is a real gem (not as pretty as Richmond, but still nice). It is just a shame Mr Beeching managed to close its railway station.
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I remember doing a team building event in Ripon when I worked at Yorkshire Water in the 1990’s. For some reason it took place in a room that had earlier hosted a C of E Vicar meeting. Lots of half empty bottles of whisky strewn around the room. My abiding memory of the city is drunken clergy all of them looking like Father Jack from Father Ted.
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I bet your team building event was entirely sober, Robin 😉
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Portly Pig in Ripon, Pickled Pig in Stafford – is that the future of pubs ?
In Stafford’s this lunchtime I was disappointed that the Golden Glow had gone not seventy hours after opening but the HPA was drinking well.
Then to the Shrewsbury Arms for the first time in three months for my first Elgoods since Newton seven months ago. The North Brink Porter was so good that I couldn’t have just one pint, and I think that’s what Will meant with suggesting two pints in each of the Wolverhampton pubs last week.
Best of all was the great conversation in both pubs and walking home from the Morris Man bus stop.
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‘Ello ‘ello ‘ello.
Might I inform Sir that it is an offence to be merely drunk in this fine country?
It is not necessary to be disorderly.
If an officer of the law were to address a person and they are not capable of accounting for themselves sensibly then they may be charged.
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Good evening Martin, thank you for visiting us at The Portly Pig! Such an amazing review, we are so grateful that you captured the heart and sole of the place. Not a traditional pub, but a place for great beer, conversation and good times playing games.
Enjoy your travels, exploring and finding the more incredible places xx
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Thank you so much for running such a lovely pub appealing to all xx
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