Don’t worry, that’s not my IndyMan snap. You left me on Crewe High Street on Wednesday evening (see how quickly I fall behind on this blog), marvelling at the Beer Dock’s craft. Still time to call it quits, get the Chinese takeaway, and watch repeats of Reith lectures back at the Travelodge. When you’ve paid… Continue reading CREWE – WOT NO HOP POLE !?
Back at Crewe station at 7pm, I really should have gone to bed with a Chinese takeaway after that mammoth Stafford session. But that’s not how life works, is it ? “Oooh, I wonder what’s in Crewe” “You know exactly what’s in Crewe, retiredmartin. Hops and Borough Arms, same as every year since 2004″ “Yeah,… Continue reading NOW, EVEN CREWE GOES CRAFT
Seems I forgot to include a map showing you where Crewe is earlier. So here it is, with the Blue Mugge in Leek as your reference point. Hope that helps. Last time here I stayed in the Crewe Arms, which sadly isn’t as posh as it looks, but undercut the bargain Travelodge by a fiver.… Continue reading NO SPOONS, BUT CREWE’S ESTATE PUB LIVES
My last post before a trip to Maidenhead tonight. If anyone from the butt of Berks reads this it might be my last. I’m sure I look forward to the annual trip to Warrington as much as BRAPA. Sure, a new GBG pub in Widnes would be a BIG EVENT, but you get decent ale… Continue reading WARRINGTON – WOLVES & WOOLYBACKS
Yes, almost a Crewe post ! After the joys of finishing craft bar Stafford, it’s back to the slog of twee gastro Cheshire, which is even less satisfying in lots of ways. Not that the Verdin Arms is twee. But it’s very hard to find Wimboldsley on my Philip Navigator, which tends to go down… Continue reading WHERE THE HECK IS WIMBOLDSLEY ?
I’ve done all the easy counties now. Time for the remote ones (West Wales, Devon), the ones with micro heaven/hell (Hants, Lancs) and the one with gastro dreadfulness. Yes, a return to Cheshire, so much less since they lopped off Stockport and gave it to the Mancs. I start at the place which can console… Continue reading NORTHWICH – REBIRTH OF THE SALT
Yes, still more from my Birthday I’m afraid. Having lost track of time AND forgotten I could only use my return ticket on the Welsh chugger back to Piccadilly, I had 27.5 minutes to kill in Wilmslow. No great undiscovered boozers, no micros, not even some weird street art down a dark alley. Just a… Continue reading A TRAIN BEER FOR THE PICCADILLY TAP