Students of GBG ticking (Open University, £9,250 p.a., cash only) will no doubt be intrigued by the variety of micropubs on this blog. Moretti and Leeds fans in Silsden, Laurel & Hardy and family-friendly in Bingley, but now back to tiny and beery in Thackley, close to the world-famous Idle Working Mens Club. Suburban… Continue reading BLACK RAT, WHITE RAT, NO TAT
BEWILDERED IN RE-BADGED BINGLEY
One of the occupational hazards for GBG completists is an “unintended revisit” to a pub ticked under a different name. You’d be surprised how often this happens, particularly when geographical listings are all over the shop. Belper Mark, a closet ticker that Si and I outed recently, uses postcodes in his own relational database, which… Continue reading BEWILDERED IN RE-BADGED BINGLEY
SILSDEN – MORE THAN GIANT ONIONS
More constant Cravens for you, as I make a rare trip to Silsden, which feels like all the best bits of Skipton with the pashminas and micropubs taken out. By “good bits” I mean cobbled streets like this one. If you think you’ve heard of Silsden it’s probably because of this record breaker. Sadly for… Continue reading SILSDEN – MORE THAN GIANT ONIONS
HA’WAY HAWORTH
Another short post for you to consume between meals. Or pints. I only know what’s next because my photos are in alphabetical order. After the Salopian adventures I had virtually a whole week away from pubs, selling essentials like these at our annual charity sale. Something for everyone, I’m sure you’ll agree. But I nipped… Continue reading HA’WAY HAWORTH
Real Ale’s in Little Wenlock
A micro post, with weird beers and high tables, but no fun. Just for Russ, who’s getting back in the swing of things, an apostrophe atrocity from the posh side of Telford, views of chimneys and all. The Huntsman has won loads of awards, apparently, though not for its spelling. I turned up to find… Continue reading Real Ale’s in Little Wenlock
“£2 A PINT. ALL DAY, EVERY DAY”
How I wish I could find something to rhyme with Oswestry. BRAPA will make up a word that translate into Welsh as something rude. I was here a year ago, rediscovering a town on the rise and proclaiming the Bailey Head one of the pubs of the year. It takes great self-control to avoid a… Continue reading “£2 A PINT. ALL DAY, EVERY DAY”
WREXHAM AFTER THE DEJECTION
I arrived in Wrexham/Wrecsam to find the locals shuffling down the High Street, still in a state of dejection after Danny Holland’s ill-deserved winner kept them in Non-league for a 43rd successive season. Though still a step higher than Chester. What a goal from @EastleighFC's Danny Hollands last night 😱 pic.twitter.com/rzeLuUwuh0 — Football Carpets (@FootyCarpets)… Continue reading WREXHAM AFTER THE DEJECTION
NO TRAVAILS IN TREVALYN
The Beer Guide seems determined to promote lovely Wrexham’s pub tourist credentials. Another GBG packed with new entries in the posh Cheshire-lite villages to the north and the grittier hills towards Mold. I had the joy of a walk from the bus stop at Rossett through tiny lanes with giant hedges. A quiet, straggling, bucolic… Continue reading NO TRAVAILS IN TREVALYN
SETTLE DOWN
No, not the rare James B side, but a rarer Settle tick that I couldn’t really take offence with. Last time here, Jimmy Anderson and Root were adding 198 for the last wicket against India, and I had to superstitiously hop on one leg up the hills or risk breaking the partnership. Five years later… Continue reading SETTLE DOWN
I YIELD TO HELLIFIELD
Into the Yorkshire Dales, almost, and one of those Craven villages you whizz by en route to the honeypot villages of Giggleswick and Feizor (?). Luckily for the ticker, Hellifield (pronounced Heffer) have commissioned a railway station, just for my visit. For a moment it looks like they won’t be getting my £1.65 as a… Continue reading I YIELD TO HELLIFIELD
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