March 2026. Burton on Trent.
Last week seemed like mental torture, another weekend without making it to that Guisborough brewery tap that only opens 3:30 to 4 on Saturdays.
But in fact I did manage East Grinstead (whoopy doo) and Burton on Trent (whoop), the latter scratching a major itch.
Despite living a mere 42 minute rail journey away, I’d only visited Brew Town once since moving North, in 2021, and Coopers was closed then.
Let’s start correcting that omission, and ask the Bass fanclub what to do;
Also, let’s see if the town is useful for any more than a pub crawl and an eternal 3rd division relegation struggle.
Fans of red brick and shiny steel will love it.
Oh, good curry, too.
And a lot of pubs, according to the excellent CAMRA magazine. More branches should put a map in the middle.
Not all Bass pubs, mind, and as a dozen recommendations flooded in the old favourites seemed to dominate.
So let’s start with a really old favourite, just down this alley;
retiredmartin 
Oi, we’re so high in League One we’re getting nose bleeds. I’m hoping the Oak and Ivy and Stretton Social Club were next in your visit.
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Just looked at the table, you should be OK. Shame about the goal difference though.
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Points win prizes, or at least safety.
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Have you got a new camera? Some of the buildings look like scale models and the skies look like CGI. 🤔
Bring back the glare! 😛
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Martin goes around on stilts now, Will.
You’ll get used to it.
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Well at least you didn’t become a Scientologist in East Grinstead.
Just saw a lunch menu for the House of Commons from 1950, drinks options included draught Bass at 1/9 a pint. Or a half of cider for sixpence.
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Apparently the leader L Ron Hubbard (sci fi writer) had a bet he could start a religion. A friend in a vulnerable time almost got swept away with this cult.
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Bare-faced Messiah is a cracking book.
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Back now. Las Palmas is lovely. Currently in a Marston’s dining pub on the outskirts of Dumbarton. Grim. Brooklyn IPA £7.75 a pint!
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You should have gone to Cleverarton instead, Bill.
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Las Palmas is indeed lovely.
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It’s certainly a wonderful smell of hops that hits you on entering Burton. Something I recall from this town which I have not heard in any other towns is the automated voice announcement “Please do not drop litter.” I was impressed.
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I grew up in Wrexham, a brewery town, and I well remember the wonderful smell of brewing. Also, the smell of pubs, stale beer, old dogs and fag smoke. Exquisite, never to be experienced again
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Doesn’t the increase in dog whiff more than counterbalance the absence of cigarette smoke, Bill?
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No, but the increase in flatulence, body odour and halitosis makes up for it. Regrettably.
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Bill, eleven days ago I had 106 minutes in Wrexham as my first visit in about forty years. Imagine my disappointment in finding the town centre full of football supporters, a dozen police outside the Wetherspoons ( I don’t know whether keeping trouble makers in or out ) but none at any of the proper pubs. I just had a pint in the Wynnstay.
Then yesterday in Chester I found the Old Custom House virtually unrecognisable from my last visit there drinking Border ales.
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Surely “that Guisborough brewery tap that only opens 3:30 to 4 on Saturdays” might claim the GBG’s shortest opening hours, 26 hours totalling just over one day per year.
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