October 2026. Morley. West Yorkshire.
Dave “US” Southworth often asks which places surprised me. A good question, which today gets “Morley, West Yorkshire” added to the answers.
Wiki says “Morley is a market town and a civil parish within the City of Leeds metropolitan borough; the largest town (pop 44,440) in the borough after Leeds itself. Morley forms part of the Heavy Woollen District“.
I also read “When the Northern Rugby Union clubs broke away from the Rugby Football Union in 1895 to form the Rugby League (a superior sport), the Morley representatives missed the train to Huddersfield due to being in the pub.” That must make you warm to the town already.
The new Beer Guide entry is called Seven Hills, and it’s a steep climb from the station into town. Pleasingly, I beat all the young folk on the walk, which means I’m getting my leg back and get in the pub first.
I get a real thrill about visiting a place for the first time, I can literally feel my brain whirring on the approach.
Will it be busy ? Are the streets tidy ? Is there art ? Can I get away with carrying a Chinese takeaway back to Sheffield ?
My GBG target appears from nowhere. part of a string of modern bars at the top of town.
Having told you that a new Beer Guide bring forth a slew of Spoons, brewery taps and small bars, and knowing my dislike of the cult of Bowie, you might be surprised by how much I loved this one roomed micro with a musical focus.
But it was joyous, and at 61 you tend to take joy over almost anything.
The rapport between the regulars and the young barmaid was the very epitome of a great pub.
I was given CAMRA discount I didn’t ask for, the chocolate honeycombed stout throroughly pulled through,
a gorgeous NBSS 4 (VERY GOOD in new money).
The Old Boy complained about draughts, the barmaid (like me) reckoned it was too hot (21 degrees outside), pointless arguments ensued.
At this point, I could have dashed back down the hill to the station, but I had to see the Ernie Wise statue, and find out what other magic Morley was hiding.
