Icy Aigburth

On the coldest day of the season (so far) I put the winter spikes on my shoes and headed off to Aigburth.  On leaving St Michaels station I headed for Lark Lane, first pausing to photograph the closed Belgrave:

I continued, walking the length of Lark Lane, home to dozens of food outlets, many of which seem to change their names each time I come.  The pavement was solid ice, I was glad of the spikes!  Mind you, it was a bit embarrassing, clip-clopping across the hard floor in some of the pubs.  Better than an ambulance to A&E, though!

Today's researches will really test my definition of which establishments go in the guide.  There are many bistros and cafes along here which may serve alcohol but don't really count.

No such concerns about my first destination, the Albert:

Three handpumps on the counter offered Hobgoblin, Bombardier and Doom Bar.  Not really a selection for the real ale buff, but I'm not complaining, the Bombardier was excellent.

The rather fine interior here remains - is it fake or not? - and I was pleased to find it comfortably warm despite the (literally) freezing weather.

Gentle background music, from the jukebox I think, mixed with conversation amongst the regulars and staff as I enjoyed my ale in solitude in the comfortable back room.

On down the road to the Lodge:

According to my records this used to be The Masonic before becoming a restaurant called Negresco, perhaps related to Negresco Deco in Woolton.  In 2010 it became The Lodge Ale House, now it's just The Lodge.

I can't remember what the decor was like when I visited The Masonic in 2003.  The layout now, large bar plus side areas corresponds with my notes then, the inside is quirky and rather good, with some bare brick walls, and everything pastel coloured, grey in the main room, pale green in a side area, and so on.

A few customers were keeping the place ticking over, gentle chatter mixing with the background music.

Only two clips on the four handpumps, I selected house beer The Lodge which was a pleasant bitter.  The other option was Jennings Cumberland.  I didn't see anyone else order cask while I was here.

It was a bit colder than the Albert, I kept my coat on.

Next, Maranto's:

Really a restaurant, this, but I wanted to tick it again because I've drunk in here before so I don't want to demote it to "not a pub".

I entered to find two tables of diners, and the rest of the place empty, with no sign of any staff.  I was about to abandon my visit and designate it a restaurant when the waitress appeared, and served me a pint of Love Lane, earning bonus points for serving it in a Love Lane glass.

I must say I like the decor, Tiffany lampshades, fretwork banisters and so on.  I'm sure it's all a modern confection but it works really well.

Next, the Parkfield Inn:

The opposite end of the spectrum here, a plain pleasant down market boozer perhaps a little out of place amongst the bistros and cafes of Lark Lane.

Formerly an Oak Lodges (See this blog passim.) pub, the decor in this "corridor bar" is traditional, and well cared for.

Various regulars, aged between five and eighty-five, kept the place lively, with a pop video channel providing background music.

Good grief, they're advertising Christmas savings clubs on the telly.  Already?

That's enough of Lark Lane, is there anywhere else around here I need to tick?  Yes, so a walk along Aigburth Road took me to the Fulwood Arms:

Transformed since my last visit, much lighter inside than the dark decor I found in 2008, and now featuring bookshelf and bare brick wallpaper creating an unexpectedly pleasant ambience.

A few regulars sat at the counter chatting with the barman, while I sat on a comfortable leather sofa and drank a half of Carling.

The sounds in here were regulars' chatter and Sky Sports' reports on the transfer deadline.  It seems this is more exciting than an actual football match, judging by the frenetic commentary.  I was amused to note the transfer window countdown clock in the corner of the screen shows hundredths of a second - Considering the latency of digital satellite television transmission this is completely meaningless, in fact the whole seconds are suspect.

Finally, up Victoria Road to the Victoria.  There's no way I would have made this part of the trip uninjured without my spikes, especially on the pub's skating rink:

Last time I passed this way this pub was shut although clearly still operational, so we have to look back to 1998 when I had a drink in what was then called the Aigburth Arms.  To be honest, I don't think much has changed since then and it looks about the same - Obviously, fresh wallpaper, a new carpet and new paint will have happened in the intervening years.  Changed or not, the decor is rather pleasant, although perhaps better suited to a crowded Friday night than a quiet Thursday afternoon.

Just a few customers in the large empty-feeling room.

Twenty-one years on the real ale has gone, so I had a half of lager.

Red Dwarf aficionados will know that the Aigburth Arms has an important role in the series:  Lister was found, as a baby, in a box under the pool table.

Interestingly (or not) this is pub number one in my database.

Time to go home, I think.

Pub of the day: The Albert:  Decent ale, decent heating, pleasant decor.
Miles walked: 2
Maybe coming soon: Southport or Croxteth?