retiredmartin

May 2026. Loftus. North Yorkshire.

For a third time this year I took the campervan to the mining villages of the north coast, parked up overnight across from Loftus Police Station, and hoped.

And there it was, right next to the non-GBG Mad Alice, one advertising Japanese beer and darts, the other Clarkson and cover bands. I tell you, Loftus is the party capital of the UK right now.

Ibo’s Facebook page seems more interested in youth darts (down the stairs) than cask,

but the Japanese landlady (I think) was fastidious in giving me a perfect pint of Yorkshire Heart for £3.80, pulling through a couple of pints of a new barrel first.

“Arigatou” I say, the only Japanese I know apart from yen and beer.

It’s not a bar to thrill everyone, I suspect. Most regulars are (again) standing around, still picking over the bones of Middlesbrough’s loss to Hull Tigers in the play-off, so again I perch in the corner as I WILL NOT DRINK STANDING UP.

But I liked it a lot. Apart from the marvellous welcome, the cask was cool and chewy (4), and I got my second hearing that day of “Walk of Life“, which I read is a big Tik Tok hit with Gen Z.

It’s not a pub for the delicate,

and I know how delicate some of my readers are.

A third visit to this unassuming North Yorkshire town, a third takeaway* from the authentic sounding Tasty House,

a third early night in the campervan, hoping the Police wouldn’t knock on the door at 2am.

*_{Honey and chilli shredded beef with Singapore Chow Mein, NCTSS 4}