Tuesday 16 October 2018

Nearly New Brighton

I headed under the river for another Wirral trip.  The bus stopped at the toll booth to get some change!  My objective today was four pubs on the outskirts of New Brighton, and my first destination was the Telegraph:
The excellent interior here features rough plaster and beams and a fine stone fireplace.  I wonder how much is genuine antique?  It's partly knocked through but retains separation between the areas.  There's a newer extension on one side, aimed at diners I think.

Behind the bar-blockers were five handpumps, I spotted Titanic Plum Porter so didn't bother to look any further.  And it was wonderful.

The seven or eight regulars sitting or standing at the counter were enjoying a lively chit-chat, some argument about magnetic compasses I think.  In the bar side where I settled was another group of five, chatting about various subjects mainly footie.

Just round the corner is the closed Little Brighton:
And a little further on is the Sandridge:
A little down market compared with the Telegraph, but still pleasant, well cared for, and comfortable.

No sign of the dark wood panelling I commented on in 2004, the only fifties feature I could spot this time was the matchboarded counter front.

A handful of regulars were keeping the place ticking over, most of their chatter was about the racing on the telly.

There were two handpumps on the counter, but just a turned round Doom Bar clip, so it was a Guinness for me.  I also noted the nowadays-unusual Webster's Bitter on tap as an alternative to the ubiquitous John Smith's.

Next, a walk down a steep hill (Which I'll have to climb up later!) to the waterfront, and two pubs close together, starting with the Pilot Boat:
Nothing very exciting about the interior here, but it's comfortable and tidy, knocked through into one open room.  Just a hint of inter-war decoration remains, in the leaded glass windows.

The two handpumps offered Hobgoblin (With Halloween pump clip) and Lancaster Blonde, my pint of the latter was spot on.

Each table had condiments ready for diners, but there weren't many at three on a Tuesday afternoon.

There was a gentle background of chatter mixed with the jukebox.  The barmaid came out to take a food order, so it's waitress service here.  The menu, not your usual chain stuff, looks good.  (Fish and chips £9.25)

Next, just fifty yards down the road, the Magazine:
How odd.  A rather beautiful multi-roomed pub serving quality real ale, but I was the only customer.  The barmaid pulled me a perfect pint of Peerless Red Rocks and then returned to idleness while I adjourned to a quiet comfortable side room to enjoy my ale.

Unfortunately, the lack of custom and the instant attention from the barmaid had caused me to order without surveying the entire counter, I could have had the rare in this part of the world Bass if I'd looked a bit more carefully.    I should have studied that excellent book, the Merseyside Pub Guide, which recorded a perfect pint of Bass back in 2003 - Obviously the author is a man of taste!  Never mind, the Red Rocks was excellent.

Eventually one or two more customers came in, so I wasn't the only one, but I think we need more drinkers to keep a splendid place like this going.

Time to climb the hill to get the bus home.

Pub of the day: I think the Telegraph, the best combination of a good choice of real ales with a decent Tuesday custom.  The Magazine is a close second.
Miles: An easy one today, only one mile walked.
Maybe coming soon: Maghull, Litherland.

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