Further Afield

All this is well outside my "target area" but still worthy of a blog entry, I hope.

I travelled by train, tram, and train right across the Manchester conurbation and on to the pleasant Derbyshire mill town of Glossop. There are loads of pubs here to visit, including some up a long hill. I recall visiting one of these a few years ago where the landlord advised that if the forecast snow arrived I wouldn't be able to get home! (It didn't and I did.)

Having completed my non-pub-related reason for being here, I moved on to pub research: My first target, GBG entry and architectural gem the Crown, is supposed to open at twelve on a Friday, but at 12:05 it wasn't, so I crossed the road to the less exciting Surrey Arms for a pint of the black stuff. This was from a can via the "surger" gizmo I wrote about a few weeks ago, but this time the barmaid warned me in advance.
There was only one other customer in the pleasant well cared for knocked through interior, although the moment I typed that two more came in.  I must say the jukebox was doing well - Smiths, Stone Roses and then the Eagles.

On leaving the Surrey, I could see the Crown was now open, so I was able to enjoy its historic interior, not to mention a pint of Sam Smith's OBB for only two quid. Not my favourite ale but it was in perfect nick, and infinitely superior to the Guinness I had over the road.

It's good to see that a pub apparently providing only one real ale can get in the Good Beer Guide, sometimes I get the feeling that it's "never mind the quality, feel the width" at CAMRA.

I adjourned to one of the front rooms, sitting alone in a small lounge with comfy bench seats round all four walls. The real fire wasn't lit but it was laid ready for use. Just a few regulars at the bar, chatting to the landlord, making a quiet background noise - There was no music, which seemed appropriate in these surroundings.

Next, on to somewhere with more reliable hours; Wetherspoon's Smithy Fold. This is in the bottom of an enormous former mill, the rest of which is a Travelodge. Quirky industrial-style decor greeted me, and at half one on a Friday it was unsurprisingly pretty busy. I managed to find a table to enjoy a great beer from the Howard Town brewery, just half a mile from the pub - How's that for locale! Despite the "15-20 minutes" warning, my wrap arrived very quickly.
The custom eased off a little as I enjoyed my food and drink but it was still busy when I left.

Why get a train all the way to Manchester and out again when I can cut straight across? No reason at all, so my next move was a bus to Stalyvegas. The bus ride was a splendid trip through places I've never been before, with wonderful views from my seat upstairs at the front.

Rarely, I managed to press the bell at exactly the right time on an unfamiliar bus route, and the bus stopped outside the station right under the railway bridge. Here, there was a slight hitch, the driver pressed the button, the door creaked and wheezed, but it didn't open. He pressed close and open a few times, with no effect. Was I going to be trapped? Eventually I gave a little tug on the emergency handle on the door, and it sprang into life and opened. I jumped off quickly and as I entered the station, the bus was still at the stop. I've no idea if it managed to carry on in service.

As you've probably guessed by now, my destination was the wonderful Buffet Bar. I've been coming here since December 1980, including for a reunion with university friends in early December each year, but that's no excuse for not visiting at other times, so if I'm in Manchester with a suitable train ticket I always try to come here.

When I arrived it was a lot quieter than it is for our reunion on a Friday evening, but still ticking over nicely, with a wide array of real ales on. I chose another from the same brewery in Glossop, and settled down in one of the side rooms - If I recall correctly this wasn't part of the pub when I first came here, there was just the main room and the conservatory. And you had to walk down the platform and use the railway's gents, there wasn't one in the pub. Ah, memories; on one occasion, after a couple of pints I headed out to the gents to find an inch of fresh snow on the platform.

Time to go, two trains took me home.

Mossley Hill

Two trains carried me to Mossley Hill station, from where it was a short walk to Pi:

A shop conversion, this, with two shops joined together.  The decor inside is the standard micro-pub plain walls covered in breweriana.  With a stone floor this made for a somewhat echoey ambiance, although there wasn't much noise to echo as I was the only customer.  I was a little concerned about this place as during my internet research yesterday I happened upon some very negative trip advisor reviews saying it had gone downhill recently; and also it seems to have a food hygiene rating of 1.  All I can say is that the friendly helpful barman served me an excellent pint of Dark Star's Partridge, and even gave me some complimentary peanuts. (Before you say "yuk", this wasn't the bowl on the bar that's had everyones fingers in, which seemed to be very common in America when I was there. These were scooped into a container for me.) No-one came in while I enjoyed my ale. They've been here since 2011 so my first visit is just a little late, let's hope they are busier at other times.

A short step back past the station brought me to the Rose of Mossley:

I first came here in 1997, I think, when it was just called the Rose.  A large free-standing pub dating from I'm not sure when (1930s perhaps?), the inside, originally with many rooms, has been opened up but keeping some separation between areas.  It still retains some original-looking woodwork and ceiling plasterwork, altogether a pleasant, comfortable interior.  Nowadays it's in the Greene King stable, and aiming at diners. The two handpumps were offering Abbot and Old Spooky Hen which tasted like the Speckled version. Ticking over gently at four on a Thursday, in the area where I sat the majority of customers were eating. A gentle hum of background conversation was drowning out the very quiet muzak as I drank my ale and typed my report.

Next, down some classic suburban streets to the Storrsdale:

My comments back in 2009 described this as a beautifully looked after preserved 50s or 30s pub, and nothing has changed.  Wonderfully, there's a little parade of shops across the road in the same style, and the brickwork in both suggests to me it's 1930s rather than 50s. Comments from those who know more than I do about pub architecture (That is, pretty much everyone.) would be welcome.

As usual, I went in by the wrong door, entering the well kept but totally empty lounge.  I headed through the connecting door to join the handful of regulars in the bar side. The handpumps offered various ales, including a number from Hobson, the one I had was spot on although I noticed everyone else was on lager. Everyone watched Tipping Point on the telly, and then The Chase.

I can't say enough about this wonderful architectural gem. It has clearly been refurbished and altered during its life, but so many original features remain, making it a personal favourite. Quality real ales are just the icing on the cake.

Finally, a stroll to the never before visited Greenhills.  No picture, as it was dark by now. This will become a regular theme for the next few months, unfortunately my old arrangement of starting a research trip before noon has been stymied by the now common restricted opening hours - Today it was the Storrsdale, which opened at 3pm (Or 4 if you use a different web site)

I'm not sure why this place has heretofore been missing from my researches, I think it's one of those locations that slips through the cracks between areas. [I've always wanted to use "heretofore" in a blog entry!]

Mainly aimed at diners, the large building has a pleasant comfortable drinkers' area at one side. I would have thought they could put a few food menus in here to tempt us but apparently not, so I can't comment on the menu, but anyway the ale was good - They offered Bombardier and Doom Bar, I had the former. [Aha! - I get to use former/latter as well.]

There was a regular flow of customers, both drinkers and diners, so I think they're doing well. It seemed to me that there were more drinkers than diners.

Finally, a fairly short walk to West Allerton station, which I don't think I've ever used before, got me on the journey home.

Even Newer Penny Farthing

I was rejected by the blood donors today due to dental work, so somewhat cheesed off I headed for a pub I noticed the other day had reopened.

The New Penny Farthing closed in 2016 and to be honest I assumed it was to be demolished, but I was wrong:  Instead, walking past once a week, I saw the exterior cladding of the 60s construction removed and then gradually replaced by new glazing, until finally it opened as the Courtyard.  ‎The inside ‎has been totally gutted to create a bare brick and concrete decor to which has been added contemporary fixtures and furniture.

I was somewhat startled to find three handpumps serving beers from Liverpool Organic and the one I tried was spot on.  They seem to be aiming at the cocktail crowd but at noon on a Friday I was perhaps unsurprisingly the only customer. The menu consists of light bar snacks and platters.

What a contrast to the New Penny Farthing, which I recall as a rough-and-ready boozer with cheap beer and free butties.

The barman, with no-one to serve, was sorting out behind the bar, I noticed he'd got a whole box of lemons and another of limes. I wonder how long it'll take to use them all up?  He sliced a couple of each for now, throwing away yesterday's leftover slices.

There's another bar upstairs which I didn't visit, and a pleasant looking patio area at the side.

Liscard

The journey to Liscard seemed to take for ever (Little did I know...), with a very slow train and then a bus under the river but eventually I arrived at the town from where it was a short walk past umpteen pubs - To be visited later today or on a subsequent trip - to the Primrose:

This is something of a gem from the architectural point of view, inside and out.  The pub was re-built in the early 1920s and is well preserved.  Excellent ceiling plasterwork, dark wood panelling, leaded glass, and an impressive fireplace are all original, and only slightly spoiled by Hallowe'en decorations. The fire wasn't lit but it looks like it is used sometimes.

No ale, so I sat down with a Guinness to admire the decor. It was quite quiet at four on a Thursday, but gently ticking over with a number of regulars leaning on the bar and laughing and joking with the friendly barmaid.

Time to retrace my steps back towards Liscard in the strengthening drizzle, pausing first at the Saddle Inn:

Not an architectural gem but nonetheless nice-looking inside and out. The sign outside says hand pulled cask ale but there didn't seem to be any so it was Guinness again. Just a few locals chatting while I watched Tipping Point on the telly (And typed this.) A real stove in the fireplace added to the pleasant feel of the interior, which features fake beams. Every beam carries a different drink-related quotation. I think most of them are already in my list for the quote of the day on the main website's home page.
Irritatingly, as I swigged my pint, a bloke who had been sitting at the bar disappeared and after a few minutes added a pump clip to the solitary handpump.

Like the last one, this place was spotless and well cared for inside.
The "restaurant rooms at the rear" which I described back in 2004 didn't seem to be in use while I was there, the lights were off although the way in wasn't blocked.

Next, the Royal Oak, never before visited:

It's hard to describe the interior here, one large room with very pleasant traditional-ish decoration. I wonder if anything is original (Assuming the building has always been a pub.) Perhaps the matchboarding or the ceiling plasterwork? I'm pretty sure the imposing stone and brick fireplace complete with pillars, is modern, anyway.
Custom consisted of a handful of regulars sitting at the bar watching racing on the TV, while I took my Guinness to a comfortable quiet corner at the front of the pub.  Quiet until the local youths decided it would be amusing to tap on the window, anyway.  They soon got bored when I ignored them.

Finally, time to head for the real reason I'm here in Liscard, another Good Beer Guide entry I've never visited, the Lazy Landlord.  Sorry, no photo, it was dark by now.  A well above average micro-pub in my opinion, 5 handpumps, plenty of space and seats, and no dogs!  The walls featured a fine display of breweriana including a collection of illuminated keg fonts.  The custom consisted of a few regulars chatting (Mainly about real ale pubs in the Isle of Man), and me hiding in the back enjoying a perfect pint of Windermere Pale (One of my favourites.) while being warmed by the "fake" stove.

Time to go home, leaving umpteen Liscard pubs for the next time. At this point I made a schoolboy error and jumped on the first bus with Liverpool on the front, which proceeded to take me on a convoluted route in the opposite direction. When it eventually reached Leasowe, still going away from Liverpool, I abandoned it and got a train back to civilisation instead.

Towards Tuebrook

A fairly short bus ride took me in the direction of Tuebrook, and I jumped off when we reached Queens Drive, to visit the Jolly Miller.  Here it is in 2003:

and now:

This looks like it was once an impressive inter-war roadhouse and my notes from the last millennium enthuse about the art deco inside, but most of the history has been erased, inside and out, except for a few remaining bits of carved woodwork, especially the toilet doors, in the knocked through interior.

The three handpumps were offering Old Speckled Hen (Coming soon), Old Spooky Hen (Coming soon - I'm not sure if this is a Hallowe'en joke or a real beer.), and Greene King IPA, which was of good quality.  Unusually, I couldn't see any keg bitter.

A standard member of the Flaming Grill chain with a good value range of standard pub food, and at 3pm on a Friday it was ticking over, mainly with diners, and gradually getting busier as I enjoyed my pint.

I remember visiting here on a hot day many years ago to be told there was no draught beer at all because the chiller had broken. The barman said you can have some warm Pedigree if you want - I can't remember if he charged us for it. It hadn't had time to go sour or anything, but it wasn't very enjoyable - an interesting experiment though.

Just across the road (actually it involved three separate pedestrian crossings to get over the eternally busy Queens Drive.) is what I know as the Stag and Rainbow:

Almost all the signs now say Beefeater, but the old name remains over the front door.  It almost looked closed from the outside, but pushing open the door revealed the gentle murmur of chatting diners.

The decor is pleasant contemporary; no history here, I guess it was built in the 1970s or 80s.  Just two handpumps, one blank and the other with a London Pride clip turned round, so I had to make do with a Guinness.  Everyone else was there for the food, I think.

I could have walked but I lazily took a bus into Tuebrook itself, and the Flat House.  Not much difference between the 2003 and present time pictures:

What a contrast from the previous two pubs:  Loud chatter, shouting and laughter, and two cheerful friendly barmaids rushing up and down each serving two people at once to keep everyone in drink.  Exactly the same as last time I was here years ago, apart from the lack of smoke.

Someone left just as I was served, so I got a seat.  There was a steady stream of ins and outs, most of whom knew each other, it was just like boozers used to be!

A loud cry of "Anyone want any stuff?" and suddenly quite a trade in tins of salmon, chocolate biscuits etc was going on behind me.

I'm always concerned by a "For Sale" sign on a pub, let's hope this place continues.

By the way, if you're not familiar with the term flat house - I'd never heard it until I came to Liverpool - it means exactly what it says, an ale house with a flat frontage in a straight terrace, as opposed to the more common "corner house".

A little further along West Derby Road, the Victoria has long been converted into a shop.

I continued down the road, past at least eight fast-food emporia to a corner house, the Park.  I didn't take a picture this time, but here it is in 2003:

It must have been altered since my last report which referred to a lounge side, as it now seems to be all one room.  Not quite as lively as the Flat House, but still busy with noisy locals, and I had to hide in the back corner to find a seat.  The slightly manic, over the top, friendly barman gave me someone else's Guinness to save waiting for mine to settle.

I was particularly amused by the cable-tv cable which enters the premises through an antique extractor fan.  Saves drilling a hole, I suppose, as long as no-one turns on the fan!

Birkenhead

Not a research trip, just some drinks with friends in a few pubs.  We started with lunch in Wetherspoon's Brass Balance.  Since the closure of the other 'Spoons in Birkenhead (Some dispute over a rent increase, I'm told) this one is even busier, and at 1pm on a Wednesday it seemed to be full of babies.  We bagged the last free table.  Despite being busy, service was prompt.

Next, round the corner to the Lion:  Back in May I was surprised to find four handpumps in operation here, all with beers from Purple Moose.  This time I was disappointed and perhaps less surprised to find no real ales.  There was also no-where to sit as a big chunk of the front area has been taken up by a pool table, so we headed on.







We passed the long closed Crown and Cushion, and Copperfield:

 

The next destination was the Swinging Arm:

The Hobgoblin ran out but the one pint left was OK, so no problems with turnover here.  The rest of us had Hobgoblin Gold instead.  The quirky decor is great fun, in this rather odd pub.  It was very quiet on a Wednesday afternoon, although we weren't quite the only customers.

On to Gallaghers:

This place has lost its claim to fame because it no longer does haircuts, but the ale continues to be excellent, so I'm happy.  It was good to hear Poly Styrene on the background music, as I enjoyed a fine pint of something hoppy.  Oh yes, it was Salopian Oracle.

Next we passed by the Bierhaus:

I suppose I'll have to survey this place sometime, but I can't say it's high on my list of priorities!  We carried on to the wonderful Stork:

The superb interior and quality ales never change in this favourite of mine, well deserving of its entry in CAMRA's National Inventory of Historic Pub Interiors.

Finally, having exhausted our list of real ale pubs in Birkenhead, we returned to the Brass Balance for a couple of my favourite Titanic Plum Porter before getting the train home.

Thursday's research trip is postponed due to a bus strike.

Brass Monkey

Blood Donors today, so as mentioned on Wednesday, I went back to School Lane and the Brass Monkey.  Pub number 1,837 in my database, and the 1,204th to be sampled.

I'm not sure what this place is aiming to be.  On Wednesday I peered through the window and assumed it was a craft bar, but I was completely wrong, there were no craft beers, and no bitter at all.  They seem to aiming for the cocktail market - Is there one?

The bar is larger than it appears, with a long back room.  The pleasantly quirky decor is bare brick and white tiles and, inevitably, retro industrial-style lighting.  The tiled floor is fake - it's vinyl.
Amongst the comfortable bench seats and chairs there are two swings suspended from the ceiling; probably not a good idea after a few pints.
It was hard to distinguish spare staff from customers as I swigged my Heineken, I think I was the only actual customer at 2pm on a Friday. Perhaps it does better in the evening.

Having written the above, I returned my empty glass to the bar and headed for the gents.  En route, I discovered a side room in which two groups were drinking cocktails.   On returning to the front, four or five more customers had just come in, so it's clearly nowhere near as quiet as I thought.