December 2025. Sheffield.
2 nights in Sheffield, 2 laundry washes, 1 trip to Manchester, 3 meals of Sang Lungs Singapore Rice and Crispy Beef (thanks to Chat GPT for the reheating advice).
And then back to Rye on the greyest day of the year so far.
Quite why I turn up at the station 90 minutes early is hard to say, but if you’re going to wait anywhere the Sheffield Tap is hard to beat.
Hey ! I was only here a week ago. Surely I can’t get another blog post from the same pub already?
Probably not. But it is fascinating to see who uses this famed station pub at dusk, a range of actual travellers, teachers and beer men.
Somehow I decide that one of those pork pies out of the fridge with my Jaipur is A Good Idea.
“Ooh that looks nice” says the lovely young barman, and I realise how lucky us Boomers are to be able to afford an £11 pie and pint at all while we begrudge youngsters being paid that an hour.
The Tap isn’t a cheap pub,
but let’s not get into that debate about Thornbridge Jaipur pricing.
The beer quality here is spectacular, no more so than my unwise second pint.
Polar Express, their own spiced stout in chunky glass (NBSS 4.5), marks the start of Christmas as effectively as Feliz Navidad or the Sheffield Carols (or Belgian Blue in Spoons).
I fell asleep at Loughborough. Good job the train terminated at St Pancras.
retiredmartin 
That stout looks gorgeous. Having broken my Birmingham duck (geddit?), I might even visit Sheffield for the first time in 2026.
I’m in Newport now drinking a surprisingly decent Proper Job (£4) in the Lamb, waiting to go to talk later about Athletic Bilbao and the Basque child refugees that came here during civil war.
I’d have chosen another pub, but everywhere else are busy with early Christmas do’s (good), or have karaoke (bad). Since my last visit to the Lamb the walls have been hidden by fake grass and Thai flags, but there are no menus to be seen, and I’m too scared to ask the (lovely) bar lady with face tattoos if it’s now a restaurant. By the hard drinkers at the bar, I assume not. Wall to wall country music, which I’m weirdly enjoying, is probably another clue.
Your comment on price of pie and pint / hourly rate of pay is very true.
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I wish I was there, Rhys. Have a good evening.
I’m quite good at weirdly enjoying country music, too.
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Slowly making my way to the venue away from the city centre, I’ve passed the (too) busy Pen & Wig and reached the Red Lion, a local corner pub in the well-to-do (by Newport standards) neighborhood of Stow Hill. You know it’s a classy area, because when I asked for ready salted crisps, I’m offered the choice of Hoola Hoops or Real Crisps. This is a quite basic wet-led pub, with a solid and sensible Butty Bach and London Pride offer all year round, plus a turned round clip hinting at a guest beer. It’s lovely to see it absolutely full to the rafters, bar a table for one for me, of boomers singing along to 80s music (I’m serious), although 48 year old me is the youngest punter here, so long-term viability could be a problem. Despite being a local pub, the landlord and helper are polite and friendly.
The World Cup draw is shown on the big screen, sensibly with the sound off. I’d lose no sleep if Wales don’t qualify. And if the do qualify, I still won’t lose any precious sleep by getting up at 2am to watch whatever further nonsense Gianni Infantino cooks up by then.
I’m not into parochial “my dad’s dick is bigger than your dad’s dick” claims at the best of times, but having been a Cardiff resident for a quarter of a century, I reckon Newport pubs are miles better.
WTF IS RIO FERDINAND DOING UP THERE?
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Yes, that was my first thought, too. Perhaps he comes as part of a package deal with the Village People.
I’m sure you’ve read enough of this blog to know I also rate Newport above Cardiff for very similar reasons. In fairness, 30 years ago I adored Brain’s in Cardiff but cask has died a death there since then.
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I found Brains drinking well three months ago, but that would be just a few pubs rather than their cask beer selling fast across Cardiff thirty years ago.
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I’m sure it’s perfectly possible to find a good pint of Brains, Paul. Their Rev James often sells fast enough to be excellent.
It’s just their standard cask trade seems to have fallen too fast in Cardiff, even in their busiest pubs.
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I’m a big fan of Brains Bitter too, but can’t understand Rev James’s appeal – although I probably managed ordering it in pubs who didn’t know how to handle cask. Brains Bitter sadly not that easy to find in the city centre (I recon only City Arms, Queen’s Vaults and Old Arcade have it on). I find it’s rather plain but malty taste quite unique and appealing, but can understand why it might not have huge appeal.
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Some folk don’t like that sort of malty (?) best bitter like Rev James or 6X or Arkells, and others don’t get on with grapefruit murk. A very small number of us will drink anything as long as the glass is the right shape.
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If only you’d have put an advert in the Echo a few days in advance Paul, I’d have joined you in pursuit of the elusive Brains Bitter. It’s equally as rare in the suburbs, but I’m fortunate to live close to Black Lion in Llandaf and Victoria Park in Canton who still have it on. Both are decent and still popular traditional local pubs that aren’t too difficult to get to if you’re ever in Cardiff again.
Rhys
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Rhys, Three months ago I had Brains Bitter in the Duke of Wellington and the City Arms, Dark in the Old Arcade and the City Arms, and SA in the Cambrian Tap. Also Double Dragon at a bargain £2.50 in the Queens Vaults.
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What caused the pork pie to be subjected to some Tudor sentence for treason?
(That said, the meat was pink rather than the grey-to-beige of a Proper Pork Pie, after all.)
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It needed mustard to be honest.
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Yes Etu, proper pork pies are grey-to-beige not pink, uncured not cured.
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“(thanks to Chat GPT for the reheating advice).”
Take THAT Google!
“And then back to Rye on the greyest day of the year so far.”
It’s been almost nothing but rain, drizzle and damp here for the past two weeks. But then, as I live in Canada, I try to keep it in perspective. Where our sons live (Edmonton) the temps will hover between -14C and -17C for the next 3 days, with a smidge of snow. Where (most) of my wife’s siblings live (Whitehorse), it will hover between -17C and -27C for the next 3 days, with about 15cm of snow. And then, it gets worse. For Tuesday, they’re calling for temps between -30C and -37C, without the wind chill! (the only good news is that when temps are that low is vary rarely snows).
“Quite why I turn up at the station 90 minutes early is hard to say, but if you’re going to wait anywhere the Sheffield Tap is hard to beat.”
I think you just answered your own question.
“Probably not. But it is fascinating to see who uses this famed station pub at dusk, a range of actual travellers, teachers and beer men.”
Heh, totally get that. I spent a week in New York back in 2010 with my brother and his wife (and my wife or course). My brother and I would walk across to a street long deli/bar thingy right across from our hotel. The other side of the bar/deli was on one of the main streets to Penn Station. We’d get a $2 beer and sit on the stools at a long glass window watching the folk go to and fro from the train station. Great people watching that.
“and I realise how lucky us Boomers are to be able to afford an £11 pie and pint at all while we begrudge youngsters being paid that an hour.”
Well put.
“The Tap isn’t a cheap pub,”
I figured that from the price of the pork pie. But it’s handy to the train station. It was similar for me ordering a beer in an airport lounge whilst waiting for my connecting flight (shudder).
“but let’s not get into that debate about Thornbridge Jaipur pricing.”
(slow golf clap) – I think 😉
“no more so than my unwise second pint.”
I would say you bloody deserve that 2nd pint.
“I fell asleep at Loughborough. Good job the train terminated at St Pancras.”
Ok, I haven’t done that in years! And it was a bus. These days, it’s much harder to fall asleep on a plane and miss your connection. 😇
Cheers
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