Social to the Royal Cottage.

 Hello all,

            Apologies for the length of time with no blog posts - stuff, never mind things - have happened. Nothing bad I should point out, but still stuff. Not to mention....things.

So using the joy of language, in naming this post as I have I have created an expectation that I organised a trip out to the Royal Cottage. Except I didn't. It's initially quite believable though isn't it?

So on the 19th I was supposed to be meeting up with the wonderful Tash about 1515 for a walk - sadly, this did not happen due to events. So we agreed she would get a bath and head into town later, and meet me there. At this point my lovely new phone had once again stopped recharging, so I headed into town with my old phone, knowing I could use it on Wi-Fi. 

The Social on Snig Hill was my starting place - I had a pint of Serious Bodaceia on cask from the past, along with a pack or two of crisps. When ordering my next at the Bar I asked if they had any WiFi - they said they did, but did not have a password - this explained why , when I checked, neither Tash or Matt had received my messages. After a third of Hophurst DIPA I headed up to High Street, and could not find them.

I thought about popping into the Three Tuns for one but half of it was closed off for a celebration so I headed to my chums at Bar Stewards where I can get onto the WiFi. Here I had a pint of Liquid Light pale - or any other beer, and found I had missed a call from WK. I said he could call me and he suggested that despite it's late notice we could go to the Packhorse at Crowdecote. Having asked Matt and Tash, she was sadly not up to it so WK picked me up after 1800 in his new car, and  hour ten minutes later we were at Crowdecote!

Having ordered food we had a choice of 4 real ales and I went on to two pintts of Storm Milk of Amnesia and a pint of Eyam Golden ale, with Keith on a half of the same. The meal was very enjoyable, although sadly we didn't meet up with the guy who knew my Dad - primarily to confirm his recent passing.

From here we drove up into Longnor - now seemingly supporting just a single pub - and headed across the moors past the mermaid's pool and ahead spotted a light in the difference - stopping soon after we found the unsigned road which leads down the side of the Royal Cottage and to our delight the front light was on!

I will never forget how happy it made us both - the smiles on both our faces - and we parked up directly outside before letting ourselves in. When me and Keith and Carlos had been in the funeral car back in January I had said we ought to pop back to see Cliffe - if nothing else as he would possibly say " a thot tha'd deed". On this occasion,l after saying hello, he simply said " a notice thus only two f yer - whes yer Dad - as ee not med it?". I should point out, that nothing that Cliffe says is ever insulting. It's brusque, yes, but reflective of his location and life. We calmly told him that Wee Fath had been found dead at Christmas.

We only stopped for one in here - a bottle of Old Speckled Hen for me and a bottle of Manns Brown ale for WK. Whilst I was in the loo Cliffe told WK all about his thoughts about the passing of Ken at the Quiet Woman and also how he felt things were progressing at Carl's, the Butcher's at Reapsmoor. Always full of info ais Clifffe, and usually reasonably reliable.

On reflection, its an increasingly sad story re local pubs - two have changed hands and four local hostelries have closed permanently in the last ten years. Thankfully the Ner Inn at Flash and the Packhorse at Crowdecote seem to remain strong, but there's less certainty regarding the Butcjhers and especially the Quiet Woman.

We drove straight home from Cliffe's, arriving back about 22:50 for me, with WK hoping to grab a last drink on Crookes in the Two Sheds. Despite the intention of referencing WF's sad passing, I have to say that this was a very enjoyable night out/

Your very best of health

Wee Beefy

Staffordshire trundle

Hello again,

          a few weeks ago WF's friend Cheryl from somewhere near St Albans came up to visit him, and to get some time away in the Peak district, before celebrating her 50th birthday. WF had intended us all to go out to the Ye Old Rock Inn at Upper Hulme, but that is currently closed.  Earlier this year we were shocked to find out that Mick, which may or equally may not, be the landlord's name, had put the pub up for sale. As WF had rather fallen out with the food at the Butchers, and as we intended to visit Cliff's, we suggested WF rang the now open and potentially not for sale pub, and to try and book us in.

The Friday in question posed some fairly grim weather, and after turning up at mine at 17.30 myself and WK quickly drove through the downpour to WF's where we picked him and Cheryl up, before we headed out through Bakewell to Monyash before heading down into the Dove Valley to meet up with the staff and customers at the Pack Horse Inn at Crowdecote.

When we arrived I mentioned to the gentleman behind the bar about the sale and he insisted that he would have bought and taken on another pub somewhere up north, but also that the brewery buying the pub off him withdrew their request at the last minute. This good news was improved as always by a choice of 4 real ales, two real ciders, and Moravka lager, unfiltered and brewed in nearby Taddington.

As we were there at about 19.15 we ordered drinks straight away, Cheryl on Cider, W's K and F on a Storm brewing beer, and I had, throughout our visit, three pints of beer from the Matlock Wolds Farm Brewery, a well kept and balanced bitter beer which was very enjoyable. Not a brewery I have come across before, but I have found out that they started brewing in 2014. We all stuck to just mains, WK had rare steak, WF something with Thyme in the dressing, and myself a fantastic piece of chicken breast in a sweet sauce and served with excellent tatties and veg. When we finally finished, and after one of WF's legendary time ending, glacial,  dawdles to the obviatorium, we were full up, so paid and thanked the pub before heading off up to Cliffs.

Its a short yomp up to Longnor, where there are now just two pubs open, Ye Old Cheshire Cheese and the Grapes Inn, before we headed out down the road onto the moorland and past mermaid's pool before arriving down the side road and parking in front of the Royal Cottage. The pub was quite busy when we arrived and once WF was on his Mans Brown Ale, me on a bottle of Old Speckled Hen and both WK and Cheryl were on J2o, we got comfy settled along the back. WF and Cliff got talking once more, whilst me and WK started up a chat with a young couple who were staying in their camper van nearby but actually lived somewhere near work in Sheffield.  

I was able to tell them stories of the unspoilt and alas, often now, closed pubs in Derbyshire and Staffordshire, and to find out details about their previous visits to unchanged Derbyshire pubs. Even after this, we all had to agree that there was nowhere else like Cliff's, and we stayed until 11.00PM before letting him get to bed and driving home through the heavy rain and thick fog back into Bakewell, before dropping Cheryl and WF off in siling rain, and then heading home to mine and then he to WKs.

What this trip has show is that uts another case of change in the area, with the Ye Olde Rock Inn being long term closed for a massive refurbishment whilst the family try to sell it, Ken am told still selling three real ales, not always in the best of form, in the Quiet Woman, the pub that is now known as the Knights Table still open but changed from the excellent free house it once was, and the excellent job carried out by Mick at the Pack Horse,  continuing ever more. Lets hope all this goodness continues, and the otherwise decline is fought off, for many more years to come.

Cheers

Wee Beefy

More Moorlands supping

Hello folks,

     as this is a beer blog am not going to allocate too much space to my Dad and his situation. Partly to protect his privacy, but also because, ostensibly, he is neither a beer, nor a pub. I may be 50% beer by now, but Wee Fatha drinks less than me. And his favourite tipple these days is Whisky anyway...

Wee Fatha's mobility is becoming restricted ever more and he goes out less. One thing he does therefore like is just that. Going out. If it hadn't been writ large on his face all night it was certainly clear in his smile in the photos we took whilst on our jolly. That and a bottle of whisky from his  untried list was the perfect birthday present.

Wee Keefy picked me up and we drove over to Wee Fatha's around 17.30 to head out to Bakewell, Monyash, Crowdecote, Longnor and finally on to Reapsmoor. WK had worried we may have arrived too early to pick up WF but we didn't leave until 18.10, and were booked in at the Butchers at 19.00. After a well driven trek across moorlands and through dales we arrived about 10 minutes late. Pulling up outside Ye Olde Butchers Arms Carl came out to welcome us, although he forgot that we were coming for WF's birthday, and closed the door behind me - luckily WF's glacial pace meant he hadn't yet reached the door....

Inside all three fires were lit and we got the big table facing the bar. Later diners sat in the room on the right, and as per previous visits, the room soon filled with smoke from the big old burner attached to the chimney - I meanwhile sat as far as I could from the raging fire next to me in case I set alight.

On the bar was one turned round pumpclip and two empty handpulls. The turned round one said Black Sheep bitter on it, but regular visitors will know that pump clips are a meaningless diversion at the Butchers. Much of the time Carl doesn't know what is on. If he does, or even if he doesn't, he doesn't share it with you. The beer was brown and bitter. It was well kept. It was £2.70 a pint, although the barman didn't know that. I had three pints.

We ordered food with Carl sat next to us - he asked WF what he wanted and was instructed that he just wanted a steak with a handful of chips and no veg or salad. I saw Carl write this down. He also said it was fine. When the meals came all three were piled high with chips, veg and salad. Carl said "thats ow we do um here mate, thats ow we alluss have". WF was not impressed but me and WK dipped into his chips and veg and Carl offered him the chance to take some home. Our meals were staggeringly large. As alluss.....

After fussing and feeding Thea and Sadie the two Alsations, WF slid off icily for a trip to the loo and me and WK got chatting to a couple nearby, and had more beer - well, I did, WK was on softs as he was driving. We didn't leave until nearly 21.30 and headed straight for the Royal Cottage. Alas the light outside wasn't on and the upstairs was so Cliff had clearly closed early. This just means that we will have to go back again...

Our final stop (I had hoped to visit the Packhorse at Crowdecote since its for sale, but that will also have to be next time) was at the Quiet Woman in Earl Sterndale. Being the first weekend of the month we figured it would be open, and it was. We found out that Ken is only two years younger than my Dad, and also some info which perhaps explained the food issue we had encountered at the Butchers earlier. There were three beers on and I had a pint of Wainwright, WK a half of Marstons Bitter and WF a half of Burton Bridge XL Mild.

I have observed before that Ken seems to be closing the pub slowly and laboriously, almost by default. He told us that Earl Sterndale had about 200 residents and they had 60 dogs. This makes his ban on dogs in the pub even less understandable. He also mentioned the lack of born and bred Earl Sterndalians in the village and suggested that many locals no longer came in. Disappointing as this obviously is, the beer already told the same story.

WF is no judge of off beer so I forgave him thinking the Mild was OK, the Bitter which is what I think Ken drinks, was fine, and the Wainwright was awful. I mean, I drank it, blending the sharp edges with the odd sweetness as if they were citrus and elderflower, but it was definitely not a good drink. I had to finish on a half of the Bitter. Did I mention it? No. I don't think there is any point. Not because Ken would contest the complaint, or refuse to replace the pint, but because I think its part of the subtle but noticable wresting free of the pub that seems to be happening, more obviously, every time we go. Am not 100% convinced I shouldn't have said something though.

Ken kindly came out with us as WF slowly and painstakingly shuffled off, his immobility and refusal to change somehow mirroring the steadfastedness of the excellent old pub. People in the village need to go in more often if the beer is to be maintained, and persons from outside of the area also need to visit more regularly. This is not going to put us off from going, not at all, it just makes us worry about the day in the not too distant future when we turn up and find the Quiet Woman quietly closed.

Next time I suggest we eat at the Packhorse, drink at Cliff's and finish in he Grapes at Longnor - maybe opening another chapter in our Moorlands supping story.

Your very good health

Wee Beefy.

Staffordshire Moorlands hat trick.

Hello,

       for many yeas myself and Wees Keefy and Fatha, sometimes with Tash and Matty, have been heading out to the Derbyshire, North Staffordshire border for a meal and a few pints at three excellent local pubs. In the last three years though making both of the last two has proved impossible, as per this post from 2015. Different pubs have been our starting place but after leaving Cliff's we have recently ended up somewhere else on the way home. Last Saturday that changed.

We met before 17.00 and picked Wee Fatha up and headed out via Bakewell to Monyash and then through Needham Grange to Crowdecote. The sun was shining and it was warm and the Packhorse pub wasn't too busy when we got there. Having said hello to Nick who may actually be called Mick (I will listen more carefully next time....) we set about ordering.

We all went for pints (WF a half) of Storm Silk of Amnesia, a darkish ruby pint with plenty of flavour and somewhere around 5%. The beer was impeccably kept and we stayed on this for the duration, apart from WK getting a soft drink since he was driving, and me trying the Derby fruit salad fruit pale which was far better than its name suggested. All pints cost £3.40 which is good value for the area. We also ate - WF having a fish pie, me gammon and WK a steak. The food was excellent. The beer was too.

Next, given recent early closing incidences, we headed up the lane past the pub to Earl Sterndale. The Quiet Woman was open, and there was a couple in the bar enjoying the last of their pints when we arrived. I had a pint of dark, alas I can't recall whose it was, and WK and WF each had a half of the Marstons bitter from a range of three. WK dutifully bought a now more expensive box of beers and we sat near the entrance.

One interesting  fact is that the pub door has a sign on it saying No dogs. Royal Cottage regulars claimed this had been there for years but three large groups of potential customers turned up whilst we were there and read the sign out loud - all of whom had dogs. One group put their dog in the car and sat inside enjoying their beers and the pub, and the other two groups sat briefly outside with far less beers than they would otherwise have had if they had been able to come in. I know that Ken had two or perhaps three dogs since I have been going, all of which have now sadly passed away but not taking the sign down is restricting trade further in this already quiet pub.

After a good sup and loo breaks we had to leave Ken to it and headed off to the Royal Cottage for about 21.00. There were a few customers in already when we arrived, and we had a quick chat with Cliff - unusually he don't say he thought we'd died, two which WF would have responded with "I nearly did". Instead he asked us how we were and WK bought our drinks - Manns for WF, lemonade for WK and a bottle of Old Speckled Hen for me.

We sat in our usual spot and got talking to a guy who may be called Dave and regular visitor Ivel - a proper old fashioned name if ever I heard one. As well as the interior not changing its pleasing to note that the conversation topics also never change. Local farms, farmers, families, relationships  and land sales once again were the feature, including the Salt family who allegedly lived in the mines years ago. As always, the conversation was interesting, and the atmosphere was excellent. And it was good to see Cliff in good health.

Shortly before we left a large group of people turned up and having ordered drinks stood and sat over by the back window. It was notable that for the second or third time in recent years there were more than ten people in when we left late on a Saturday night. This may not sound many, but the pub is quite small and for many years there were never more than three people in, so this is an improvement.

For information, in nearby Longnor, the Grapes has reopened following many years of closure, so there are now two pubs open in Longnor - unless the Horseshoes has reopened, which looking at it am guessing it hasn't. We didn't have time to visit but I understand it sells a few real ales so will hopefully pop in next time we are out that way.

I wrote in 2012 about the large number of local pubs in the area closing or changing hands but the Red Lion at Thorncliffe has also recently reopened so there seems to be small improvements in the pub scene in the Staffordshire Moorlands area. All of which means more trips out and different routes await in the months ahead.

Cheers!

Wee Beefy

A Saturday Staffordshire pub crawl

Hello,

        you know how it is readers. You mention to your unspolt pub and driving fanatic Father about a pub you hadn't visited in a while, and before you know it a 9 pub crawl is on the cards. That is what happened when I mentioned visiting the Royal Cottage to WF a month ago. Soon it was a fortnight ago on Saturday morning and at 09.30 we were off to pick up Matty and head into Staffordshire.

After what is always quite a lengthy trip - including a diversion as Eccleshall bridge was closed, we finally pulled into Peggs Lane and crossed the canal to the Anchor at High Offley. There was a group of 4 canal boaters from Aberdeen in already, one of whom may have been called George - hello man from Aberdeen on a canal boat whose name I am unsure of !

 We might have had a pint for me and a half each for Matty and WF of the only beer, Wadworth 6X, although Matty did get another half after the boaters had left, and we shared a very hefty bag of pork scratchings. The landlady chatted to us for some time whilst we took some pics and soaked up the atmosphere, before WF bought Matty an Anchor hoodie to wear. An excellent start to the day's drinking.

Not far away is the Haberdashers at Knighton. Its perhaps ten years since I was last there and it hasn't changed a bit. There were three beers on so we had a half of each - WF only having a few sips of his. Rowton Moonshine Mild, Rowton Bitter and Salopian Oracle, which was my beer of choice. The Rowton beers were traditional West Midlands in style and the Oracle was in excellent nick and well hopped. Although this was only a short visit its a pub I'd like to go to again.

Pub 3 was the Star at Copmere End. From a range of three or four me and Matty had a pint of Bass each and WF tried some Titanic White Star. The pub has a lovely exterior but is more modern inside, where food is served. The Bass was well kept and the landlady did very kindly tell us how to get to the Titanic pub the Sun in Stafford, which was our next stop.

The Sun is near Tescos and features about 9 real ales and some kegs. I had a half of the guest from a brewery in Yorkshire (!) and Matty and WF had or tried halves of the Titanic Plum Porter and a new beer. I also bought a half of the Speyside wheat from the Speyside brewery - probably the beer of the day with wonderful speyside malt in the mix. The Sun is an old pub with multiple rooms and caters for families and drinkers alike.

From here we tried to find a quiet road to park on to have lunch before visiting the Green Man - I may incorrectly have this down as Willington, as there is definitely one there but it begins with W and is in Staffordshire! Joint best beer of the day here - Holdens Black Country Mild, a pint of for me and Olde Trip for Matty and mild for WF as well. Brilliantly kept beer in this spick and span pub.

Pub 6 was a new one to us all - the Bore Hole in Stone is the Lymestone Brewery Tap. First time I have ever been to a pub on an industrial estate, and what a fantastic boozer it is ! Quite tiny, we had to sit outside but it was warm and a nice place to enjoy our 5 different Lymestone Brewery beers, which all had names. I also purchased a chicken ham and bacon pork pie to snaffle at home.

Pub 7 was the Brushmakers at Oulton. Now with a new sign, the pub sells Thwaites beers and possibly a guest - I had a pint of Wainwright in here and it was a little disappointing, perhaps just near the end of the barrel. That aside, this is a proper drinkers pub which serves the locals with real ale and little else, and was rightly busy for a Saturday night. One of my favourite Staffordshire pubs.

Our penultimate venue was the Black Lion at Consall Forge. Down a lane, then a track, park up, cross the river, the canal and the railway track and you are there. There were a few beers on and we tried the Connaught Pale (or similar) and the Dark Ruby Mild from their own brewery. Tim Taylors Golden Best came on after so we had some of that as well, to wash down our large meals - the mixed grill even defeated Matty!

The final stop was Cliffs, the Royal Cottage on the A53. Just him and a regular there when we arrived, and I had my usual bottle of Old Speckled Hen whilst Matty had Guinness and WF a J2o. Its been a while since we saw Cliff and it was good to chat about Sheffield and much else at in the beautiful bar room near the fire. The regular left about 22.00 and we continued to chat with Cliff until we left about 22.50, and Cliff closed and locked the doors behind us. He had done his three hours.

So ended a fantastic crawl of mostly old and unspoilt pubs in Staffordshire, with the Holdens Black Country Mild and Speyside Wheat the best beers of the day by far. Well done to WF for planning much of the route and venues.

Cheers!

Wee Beefy

Three different North Staffordshire pubs.

Hello,

        after a bit of a health shock on Thursday (now recovered, thankfully), it was nice to catch up with Wee Fatha, Tash and Matty last night for Matty's first trip out to the North Staffordshire Moorlands. As it was his first trip out there, WF planned a less than expedient but thankfully beautiful trip out to show off the sunny scenery, which if nothing else, meant we arrived at our first pub hungry.

We set off around 17.00 and after an unexpected stop at WF's we headed into Chesterfield and then down to Baslow. We drove through Chatsworth then Youlgreave, Lathkil Dale to Monyash and then through Crowdecote and Longnor and onto Reapsmoor. Here, lit by only a single light in crisp evening sunshine, was the Butchers Arms.

On the bar, Carl had gone mad and put 2 pumpclips onto demonstrate what beer was available. Its an in joke at the Butchers, that you either have no punpclips, and he does or doesn't know what is on, or you have one and its something different. This time, the two were Clarks Number 19, which he described as "sweeter" and Island Hopping, a hoppy pale ale. This turned out to be from Orkney based Highland Brewery - there is a link to their website here. Easily the better beer of the two. And quite a surprise to see. Also, a decent price as well - 2 and a half of that and a pint of Clarks came to £8.60.

We were here mainly for food and soon had a seat in an initially smokey back room, and a menu each. The pub is very busy for food Saturdays so we had to order quickly. Me and Wee Fatha went for a couple of Barnsley lamb chops with minted gravy, peas and salad and chips (new pots for WF), while Tash had homemade peppered pork and chips and veg and Matty had an absolute doorstep of a meat and tatties pie and chips. The food worked out about £10.75 each and it was delicious. A great start to the evening. To note, no dogs were in the room when we ate, and more shocking, Carl wasn't wearing shorts! He must be unwell bless him.

From here we carried on and followed our normal route, except for diverting via the Mermaid, the ex pub high on the Staffordshire moors before coming out on the A53. Past the Winking Man, our next destination was ahead of us - the Royal Cottage. We got in before 21.00 and there were two customers already in. I had a bottle of Speckled Hen as I always do, and WF a Manns and Tash and Matty a Newky Brown each.

Despite sporting a recently repainted sign, nothing has changed inside. The bar front is still carved wood, the odd brickwork wallpaper still sits over the fire with old pictures and news reports and details of land sales, Cliff's chair still has the same covers on it, and there is still a Tetley keg pump on the bar. Given that he only ever used to put it on for the monthly folk nights, from two weeks ago, I didn't risk any.

Soon the pub became busy - a couple came in, and sat where Cliff would, and a guy called Martin. The older gent next to us left about 22.00 but three ladies came in who were connected to (but I don't think lived at) a nearby hall. I swear, on a none folk night, there were 11 customers in the Royal Cottage. No word of a lie, I have never seen this except on folk nights.

We listened in on conversations about land sales and farmers and weddings and local pubs, including stories about Carl and his Dad from the Butchers, and me and Matty shared another Old Speckled Hen. However, soon it was 22.30 and we had to head off to Ken's - after all, we didn't want to find him closed. Arriving at 22.44....he very much was. We even knocked on the door but no answer came. WK is camping at the Quiet Woman next weekend, so I will warn him to get back early!

Our final stop was just down the hill at the Packhorse Inn at Crowdecote. Given that it was shut before 2300 last time I hurried in at 22.55 and got served. We had three pints of Leadmill Sheffield Wednesday beer, and WF had a half of Byards Hop Dog - I may have mis-remembered this as there appears to be no such brewery!

We also had a half of Moravka the unpasteurised pilsner form Taddington, and settled down to listen in on a farmer and 2 lads discussing the attendance - or none - at a local 18th Birthday party. The ale was well kept and slipped dwn very nicely as the conversation swung from why we had come here all the way from Sheffield, to what punishment must be inflicted on the younger of the three if he didn't pass his driving test by November.

We haven't been in for a year so this was a good chance to catch up and once again to enjoy a good range of real ales, of which there are four, with plenty of good beers coming on soon. Different, granted, to the older farmhouse style boozers of the Butchers and Royal Cottage, this is still an excellent pub, serving good food and ales. The only snag is, it may not, in fact, be in Staffordshire! Well worth a try anyway, despite.

So, a second trip in the area saw us once again miss the Quiet Woman, which is a real shame, but revisiting the Butchers and Packhorse was well worth the somewhat arduous drive. Having passed so many closed pubs en route, it was also good to see all three doing so well.

Cheers!

Wee Beefy

A North Staffordshire trio

Hello there,

           I realise, as some of you may also, that I have written a number of posts about a triumvirate of Staffordshire boozers. Well, I say Staffordshire, only the Quiet Woman and Packhorse are in Derbyshire, just. Anyhoo, whilst I realise this may indicate repetition, I like to provide details of these trips which always, apart from last time, include the Royal Cottage. Mainly, if nothing else, because no  other bloggers write about this pub.

On Saturday Wee Fatha picked me up and drove me through, and I quote him "unexpectedly busy" tea time traffic to Wee Keefy's. From here, we drove out via Rivelin to Bamford then up through Tideswell and Millers Dale over to join the A53, and down to Upper Hulme. We had booked in for food at Ye Olde Rock Inn, a 7 week early birthday celebration for me and a 3 week late one for WK.

There were three real ales on at Ye Old Rock, Bombardier, Wainwrights and Wincle Rambler. Two and  a half pints of the latter were ordered and enjoyed. We sat on the right near the fire and enjoyed sizeable portions of food -WK had lamb chops, WF a mixed grill and myself a rare 12oz steak with chips, peas and veg. To be fair, the food was lovely. Not that we wanted to sit staring at the plates we had it on for 35 minutes afterwards. Me and WK had tp and one more pints, whilst WF managed to eke his half out.

Up the A53 next and thankfully we got to visit the Royal Cottage. There was a customer already in when we arrived, which was a surprise, and we asked Cliffe why he hadn't opened back in February - he couldn't remember, but it didn't matter. We were just glad he was OK. Alas, after Keith had asked, it turned out Jessie was not, she had been put down in December. It felt bad asking Cliffe because he was obviously still missing her.

We supped bottles of Newky brown, Old Speckled Hen and J20 for Fatha, and then more regulars arrived, including a guy we had seen at Ken's last year. We talked to the guy near us whilst he and the other bloke and Cliffe discussed local history. With the exception of the I'm alright Jack politics discussed by the others, this was a fascinating conversation to listen n on.

Being stuffed from the meal meant we drank slower, but me and WK had a bottle of Manns each then shared a bottle,  whilst WF had another J20. Once more, this was a lovely visit to a pub which reminds, or at least suggests, how pubs used to be.

Arriving at Earl Sterndale at 22.59 the Quiet Woman seemed dark. Leaving the car to the chimes of the church bell, we found the pub closed. I know that bank holiday weekends are funny in terms of predicting numbers of customers, but this did seem a little strange.

Over to Hurdlow next and the Royal Oak was lit up and looked busy inside. However, on leaving the car and walking towards the pub the landlord told us he was now closed - although, when we asked, he did let us use the loos and recommended visiting our final stop.

Further up the road is Monyash and the Bulls Head. Four real ales to choose from, including Farmers Blonde, Hartington Bitter and Church End What the Fox Hat. WK had a pint of that and me the Hartington, with WF on a half of the same. In the end we stayed until gone 00.15 in the busy pub, listening in on the banter and chatting to a group from Woodhouse. The Bulls Head may not have the charm of the Quiet Woman or Royal Cottage but it opens late and serves a decent range of real ales.

So, not all 3 classic Staffordshire moorlands area pubs were tried. but this was once again a classic night out in excellent rural pubs. Will simply have to try again soon and get to see Ken.

Cheers!

Wee Beefy

Saturday night in North Staffordshire

Now then,

       at the end of January Wee Fatha and Wee Keefy and Tash and me were set to go to the folk night at the Royal Cottage. Alas, a surfeit of snow and potentially treacherous moorland conditions between Buxton and Leek meant we were denied the opportunity. Instead, a few weeks ago we decided to visit on a Saturday night.

We left Crookes with snow on the ground - not much, just a smattering, but enough to warn of potential issues further ahead. As it was, the only issues were not directly weather related, as we later found out. The snow was thick but piled high alongside the road from Longnor to Royal Cottage. There was that eerie blue white haze that lightens the countryside when it should be dark, that you only find when all is awhite.

We arrived at Cliff;s at 20.15 and found the light was not on. The upstairs light was though, and as we and another customer pulled our cars off the front we noticed Cliff stood at the window. We decided he would probably open later and so headed to a new pub for us, just down the road.

The Olde Rock Inn at Upper Hulme is an old but I suspect much extended pub just off the A53. We parked in the car park avoiding snow and pools of icy water, and walked tentatively down the road and over a small roadside stream into the brightly lit pub. There were two real ales on the bar, Bombardier, and Peregrine pale from Peakstones Rock Brewery. All of us had a pint, except WF who stuck to a half.

We sat at a large table in the bar room and watched a steady stream of punters turn up and sit down before moving to the tables for eating to do just that. The food looked like it was served in massive portions, and smelled lovely. We didn't want to stay though as the Royal Cottage awaited.

Except it didn't. Cliff was still upstairs and the lights weren't on downstairs. And despite the obvious arrival of two other cars, the situation did not change. So we headed off to Earl Sterndale.

The Quiet Woman pub was softly lit and Ken had cleared the snow outside the front porch. All we had to do was safely deliver WF with his walking stick to the porch. This was quite a lengthy process but we were soon inside. As we arrived a customer said to Ken "right you've got customers, I'd better get off". Its not clear what impediment we posed, or what indeed he and Ken were discussing, but as soon as the two pool players in the back room left about 21.30 there was only us in the pub.

WF, Keefy and Tash all had pints of Jennings Dark Mild (WF a half of course) and I supped rather quickly a pint of Brakspear Oxford Gold. So nice was this beer that I was up for another long before anyone else, as well as buying a Wrights pork pie. Ken often says that he is only busy the first weekend of a month but I was surprised how quiet the pub was for a Saturday. Admittedly people ay have thronged in earlier but it was closed as soon as we left around 23.00. Having written about two favourite pubs closing this month, I hope I won't have to write another post about the Quiet Woman. Get out there and use it is what I say.

We had at least one more round of drinks, Ken lit the fire and we chatted amongst ourselves, and in total I dispatched 4 pints of the Oxford Gold which was on good form. As ever, the Quiet Woman reminded me of the value of unspoilt traditional pubs in that area, many of which have been lost. Am sure the Royal Cottage will be open when the weather improves, and we can do the whole trip again soon, and get to both pubs.

Heres to another Saturday night in North Staffordshire.

Wee Beefy

North Staffordshire nights

Hello

     It was the end of the working week. Some cataclysmic occurrence had rendered the city centre an immovable mass of abandoned vehicles, cordons, roadblocks, and amassed irritable people, short of fuse and bereft of answers . The birds took flight. The stray dogs stopped barking. The air went cold. And nobody bought an ice cream.

It was time to head to the moors.....

Under purple, red, and yellow hued skies we headed for Ladybower, passed through Bradwell, Tideswell and Millers Dale, passed the turn for Chelmorton on the snaking road to Brierlow Bar and then headed through Earl Sterndale, Crowdecote and Longnor before arriving, as the sun set over Flash, at a small unassuming building with a darkened wooden board above the door, and an A board across the road with nothing written on it.

Inside, the Butchers at Reapsmoor was already busy, and Carl was stood behind the bar aiming to tempt us with whatever was on his hand pumps on this crisp colour splashed moorland night. Unusually, he quickly caved in and admitted that the beer on the left was Jennings Cumberland. We were disappointed - where was the guesswork and hopeless clues? There was also a mild. No stranger a thought had entered my mind - Carl doesn't serve mild does he? Well, since he doesn't usually remember what he is selling himself, who knows? Luckily normality was restored, since he couldn't recall the name of the beer. Or its strength.

His daughter said "its 4.5%" as he told a customer it was 4.0%. Wee Fatha piped up "it says 4.6% on the pumpclip". Carl said "do you read everything it says on the front of a bus?". I couldn't see how this helped clarify anything, but he seemed pleased that this removed the need for any further questions, as we filed through to the room on the right with our beers - a pint of Mild and half for Wee Keefy and Wee Fatha - and a pint each of Cumberland for myself and Miss N.

Soon a canine party popper was let off and a herd of Alsatians rushed in, bristling between the chairs and tables, sussing out which one of us seemed most taken in by their enormous "feed me" eyes, and were therefore the best to be leaned on or stared at as we ate. Meanwhile, bellies rumbling as we waited, we all migrated onto the Cumberland since, alas, the mild was very much on its last legs. This saw us through our mammoth plates of Barnsley lamb chops and mixed grill.

Soon we were off over the moors to another isolated gem. A missed turn on the moors road towards Morridge brought us out onto the A53 before the incongruous Winking Man nightclub, but 300 yards up the road a defiantly modest single light and a jumble of cars showed us the Royal Cottage was busy - it was the last Friday of the month and was therefore folk night. We couldn't even get parked in the pub car park it was that busy. Those seeking assurances that the pub is still open - read on and rejoice.

Inside, the left had room was open and a large number of instruments and music stands clustered at the end of the bar to be retrieved when needed by the musical throng. Cliff looked rushed off his feet, draught beer was on, the fire was lit, and it was warm and joyful. Three bottles of Old Speckled Hen and a Manns Brown Ale for the driver were secured, and we sat down near the fire with a couple of dogs propping themselves against our legs or lying on our feet. The music from the other room drifted seamlessly from folk to a classic blues song, then some Appalachian sounding choral number, then a didgeridoo, and back to old English songs of lost love. And we talked, fussed dogs, and watched and listened. It was just what we needed.

It seems perhaps trite to describe somewhere as being timeless but there were two senses of that at play there last night - yes, it seems never to have changed in terms of decor since the 1960's or 1970's, and the furniture appears to predate that, but its also somewhere that you can lose track of time. Before we knew it, with Miss N and WK on Newky Brown, we had, and were discussing racing over to Earl Sterndale for a last one. Wee Keefy's powers of persuasion worked and we were out in the chill of the nigh walking back to the car, none of us seemingly having realised it was gone 23.00.

Back through the lanes there was only the landlord and one of the regulars in at the Quiet Woman - obviously we now know that was indicative of the late hour we arrived rather than it being particularly slow on trade. WK had a pint of Jennings Dark  Mild, myself and Miss N a very nice pint of Wincle Waller, and WF a half of the same. Drinks in hand, we repaired to the dominoes table to talk Royal Cottage, moorland pubs and ailments with the two gentlemen until long after we should all have been home in our beds.

So ended a fantastic, needful escape from the haste and stress of the city. With three excellent pubs, and three indomitable landlords at the helm in to the bargain.

Cheers

Wee Beefy
 

WTFPub.com?

Hello,

        in order to leach credibility from what is written below I'm going to confess to my inspiration for this post being having seen a post earlier on the Facebook from someone I know runs a pub, who observed, with some horror, that lots of details regarding his pub on a website were a bit wrong. Considerably so. As a direct result of which, I decided to have a look myself, at the CAMRA pubs database. With interesting results.

Before I share my findings, lets give the somewhat beleaguered whatpub.com website from the CAMRA a bit of credit. Keeping a database of licensed premises in the UK with 7000 closing every time we draw breath and 7000 reopening as amusement arcades selling angostura bitters every 4 seconds, is undoubtedly a massive ball ache. Every time you look round another venue has sprouted with "edgy" names like the 17th November Bar and Glittergang Lounge, and frankly, recording and updating this must be a heinous task.

Also, the fact that the CAMRA have listed none real ale venues is interesting, and not without merit since it includes the above types of establishment. Ones which, whilst perhaps less susceptible to closure than your traditional boozer, are much more likely to morph.

So after reading about its woes, and being a bit cheeky searching for the Royal Cottage, a pub which I concede until Friday I also won't know for certain is still open, I decided to try the site out properly. I was focusing on real ale only establishments that I know, to see if the gripes of licencees were born of isolated glitches, or representative of a wider malaise (counter arguments of CAMRA stalwarts that data updates went awry not withstanding)

And in summary - I have no idea.

I say this because lots of pubs I know are recorded accurately - ones specially chosen included Henry's and Interval and the Anglers Rest in Richmond/Handsworth. I reasoned that their unusual names or location outside the CAMRAsphere might trip the CAMRA up but they seem pretty much spot on. So far so good then. Lets be a little more keen...

DAda. An interesting venue not least because it attracts a lot of barely concealed ire from trad CAMRA types. Not that its a heaven in a half glass beer utopia by any means. There are faults and reasons to dislike it, but it isn't on the website. Full stop. Yet it was a recent pub of the month nominee. Hmmm...

Next the Hadfield, Barber Road, AKA the Sainsbury's Folly. Currently, in fact since May, boarded up to be converted into something no-one wants. That is still open. Meanwhile The great Gatsby, seller of two real ales on Division Street (last time I went!) is also non existent, likewise the Cwmdu Inn in Cwmdu, a landmark community run multi use pub, of which there is no trace. The Closed Shop is managed by last year's team, the Hallamshire House, open two years, is still selling Sharps Doom bar and guests, but isn't run by Thornbridge, and the Freedom House isn't shut. And so on and so forth.

In the end though, its not actually a bad try. In fact I think the only question is, should it have gone live before they were 100% sure it was accurate?

I think more work and another data upload attempt could have improved it. However, it only claims to list 96% of real ale pubs in Britain. In effect, using my own narrow search criteria, having chosen many banana skin venues, only three don't exist (this excludes non real ale searches) and only five are inaccurate, but the majority, a good twenty five, are correct. Compare that with the accuracy of most pub websites, especially whole of UK pub databases, and I think it fairs pretty well.

Perhaps the only conclusion is that the industry is slow to update and those keen to share that info are bound by the same constraints?

Wee Beefy

Cask-less wonders

Now then,

  it struck me writing about cask only pubs that as an aficionado of unspoilt boozers it was actually harder to think of those selling just real ale. Whether you like t or not, in pubs with restricted hours or that are well out of the way, a cask is a slightly dumb idea. Wastage. Disappointment. Ullage. Not good.

The thing is, many in the beer blogging fraternity consider that one of the central, if not the primary considerations for a pub being good, is that it sells the fine drink. Whilst I conceded there is a mix of criteria for greatness, I increasingly find myself visiting truly amazing pubs, both interior and atmosphere wise, that haven't a drop (I'd like) to drink.

Before I continue I must add the long closed Hop Pole at Risbury in Herefordshire to my list of none keg pubs. There was only room at the bar for the landlord. I saw bottles of cider, but his cask was kept in a pin under the stairs as you came in. Woods Parish Bitter, at £1.10 a pint. Very agreeable!

So here is a list of some cracking unmissable pubs that don't sell real ale. I think if you can get over that, you will be warmly rewarded.

The Royal Cottage Inn, A53 Leek Road,  near Upper Hulme. According to Ken at the Quiet Woman, Cliff's Dad used to serve Worthington from the barrel (more likely the jug) in this isolated moorland pub, where it is claimed that anyone in their 50's to 70's now would certainly have earned their drinking stripes. Cliff senior apparently used to be up and down the stairs to the cellar non stop fetching ale for throngs of customers. Now the restrictive opening hours means that even smooth flow Tetleys is a gamble - if it's not sold at the popular music nights on the last Friday of every month. Well worth a visit despite all of the above - Friday and Saturday, 20.00 til no-ones in.

The Duke Of York Leysters Herefordshire. A quintessential unspoilt pub with two rooms and an ancient bar, with just Bass Toby Ale for drinking, plus bottles. One of the longest established family pub ownerships in the UK, the unchanging pace and appearance of life here is something rare these days. Not too restricted opening hours, and always part of community events, its well worth popping in, especially if you are visiting the excellent Talbot at Knightwick for heady freshly hopped ales followed by the Sun at Leintwardine.

Railway Tavern, Kincardine, Scotland. An amazing pub the size of a matchbox, one doorway in with a room at each side (but mainly only the left hand used), with a tiny bar and a long table in the window. Room for about 16 in the main room. An amazing surviving small wet led pub that is well worth a visit, if nothing else to note the natural ebb and flow of conversation between regulars who I imagine have been drinking together for decades. Tennents Ale and Heavy  plus lager on here, plus a limited spirits choice. A full review from 2011 is here.

The Seven Stars, Halfway House, Shropshire (now closed). This is, or really, this was, a very unusual set up of a public bar adjoining a hotel in a separate building. Am not sure why the hotel would not have had a bar, but wonder if maybe the Seven Stars was the destination for a more down at heel traveler - maybe the hotel bar was ostentatiously exclusive?

Me and Wee Fatha visited in 2003 and it was one of a kind. The landlord and landlady were in the kitchen behind a closed door. We sat on giant settles just to the side of the fireplace and the door to the toilets to our right (a tiled bit of wall on the detached house next door, with a screen to hide you from the road, but no provision for sitting down!), and we listened in on the radio for a good few minutes before Wee Fatha went to order our drinks.

An old lady opened the door and said "Yes?" and WF responded that he would like a couple of beers. The landlady agreed but he wanted to know what the beer was. This was not a good question. Without a flicker of sarcasm or irony of the lack of information that repeating the same information provided, she reiterated that it was "beer". Three times. Only, it wasn't strictly beer. Like an odd under-mixed beer concentrate  it was hardly recognisable as the Burtonwood they served next door. And it didn't bloody matter. The place was completely unique.

Goat,  Llanfihangel Yng Ngwynfa, near Welshpool Wales. Recently a venue for Dimpled Mug, if anything the interior in the bar seems more modern than when me and Wee Fatha and Wee Keefy visited in 2001. The first room is unmistakably domestic, the second, now with a rashly installed bar (about 30 years ago?) is still barely a pub room. We only got to visit because when we called them the lady who answered the phone said that her cousin was coming in specially on the Saturday lunch to clean the pub, so even though they didn't usually open she would leave the door unlocked so we could come and visit. Bottles of Marstons with not a hand pump to be seen. And only one sign, on the right hand wall, proclaiming the word "Goat". Brilliant.

Vine, Tunstall ,Staffordshire. An amazing back street local in the Pitts Hill area, very hard to find if you are expecting to see it from the road, since its tucked away round a corner. A dwindling army of regulars attends mainly in the right hand bar room; sadly the older female customers have now passed away and the lounge on the left, which in 2001 was just that, is more prosaic in its appearance, whereas before it had table cloths,  doilies, cushion covers, curtains and tea pots.

So as this eulogy doesn't run forever I must also briefly make mention of the Fiddichside Inn at Craigallachie, near Abelour Aberdeenshire,  the now sadly long closed Colliers Arms at Mossley, the Lion Royal Hotel at Rhayader, Wales, The Mawson , Brunswick, Manchester, the Cornewall Arms, Clodock, Herefordshire, and in a cheeky move, am going to once again include the Cider House, Defford, Worcestershire. Coz it dunt sell beer at all.

All are stunning examples of pubs that stand out for being unusual, isolated, ultra traditional and interesting in equal measure. Anyone who knows me can vouch for my love of real ale, but these are venues that encapsulate the better features of pubs gone by. They are unswervingly tilling a course that means they remind people of what pubs used to be like, and indeed what they can be like.

A last special mention should go to the Red Lion in Wensley, Derbyshire. Now closed (as far as I can ascertain, although its been difficult to tell for years) the Red Lion was a unique pub. And that's borderline euphemistic. I went in once with Chala, and Wee Keefy has been in twice with Ralphus. When we went there was no draught beer (even the keg fonts were covered with towels, al-a the Station Hotel on the Wicker Sheffield) and the only canned beer other than Guinness seemed to be Youngers Tartan Special.

We walked in muddy from a climb down the dale and were immediately greeted with a sign insisting we removed our footwear and placed plastic bags round our feet. Once inside there were possibly two rooms plus toilets. The Ladies had no running water so having fallen on her arse down the hill Chala had to wash her hands behind the bar. The gents did at least have cold water.

A couple sat to our right with a pot of tea and a plate of sandwiches, every flavour of which had beetroot in. There were formica tables and hollow cylinder chairs (made of bent metal pipe) and an old Mackeson sign, plus the smell of soup. And tea. And fear of photographs, as we discovered.  The pub struggled on until the last year or two, gaining notoriety for its "special" - half a pint of milk mixed with a can of Guinness, which, apparently, you had only 30 seconds to drink before it congealed. Ralphus was a fan. I cannot realistically explain why.

Irrespective of the odd tale above, I would still strongly urge you to seek out interesting and unspoilt pubs, even if they don't sell real ale. After all, you can always have a decent pint somewhere nearby afterwards. Though, chances are, you'll not find a glass of special....

Happy wandering

Wee Beefy

Three counties pub crawl revisited

Evening,

         back in August me and Barraharri set off on a rather long drive around Derbyshire, Staffordshire and Cheshire, taking us through fantastic scenery to pubs in villages, Market towns and in rural seclusion. A chance meeting with a friend on Friday led to a plan to go out and visit some pubs he'd never been to - and what better way than to reprise the route from last year.

It was particularly pertinent since Barraharri was having his leaving do the same day - but not until midnight. So that meant I could spend the day retracing the long steps of the journey we took on a cloudy day in Summer, now on a sunny day in Winter.

We drove through Chesterfield, down to Two Dales and up through Wensley and Winster over Bonsall moor to Uppertown and down into Bonsall for our first stop, the Barley Mow. Being Saturday it was open, so we parked up and popped in, Mr Grant opting for a soft drink, and myself a pint of Dark Star Darkness.

We settled down in front of an open door (hardy souls them Bonsalians) and listened in on a cameo stand up performance from the barman. The pint didn't last long - the first of the day/visit never does, but I think there was surprise at us leaving after only 15 minutes. If we hadn't got a long way to go I reckon I'd have loved to stay and sample the Whim Arbor Light or the Blue Monkey Infinity , but we did. So we didn't.

A quick trip up the Via Gellia then down to Milldale and Hopedale, and the first directions mishap - I didn't see the road off to Stanhope where I wanted to be going and so we ended up in Wetton.

Knowing I wanted to get to Ilam, and vaguely where it was, I directed us left from Wetton only to find us driving up a path. A quick SatNav (it was me who got us there!) enquiry suggested we head down Walditch, another unsurfaced rocky track, so we headed back into Wetton and following new directions finally spotted the turn for Stanhope. A scenic trundle to Ilam, then over Throwley Hill followed, bringing us out in Waterhouses, from where we went to the Yew Tree at Cauldon. We'd rung to check they were open, and the place was really busy.

A decent pint of Burton bridge Bitter for me and a half of Rudgate Ruby Mild for Mr Grant followed., whilst we soaked up the atmosphere and surveyed the bric-a-brac, paraphernalia, accouterments and assembled collect-ables in this fantastic old pub. Decent priced beer as well - our pint and a half came to £3.38, so assuming both bers were the same price that's very inexpensive for the area.

Off next to Waterfall, a short drive away, and we found the Red Lion busy, but only on one side, leaving us the lounge on the left to, erm, lounge in. That took a bit longer than planned since no-one was behind the bar. A good few minutes passed before someone reappeared, which is annoying, but the pint and a half of Bass (more than a pound dearer than our last round) perked us up, as did the real fire.

We headed into Leek next and the SatNav helped us out well, locating and showing a route to both intended pub stops. Having got parked we went straight to the Wilkes Head, which was also busy, and I had a pint of the Whim Flower Power and Mr G a half of the Hartington Best. The Flower Power was exceptional, as it was the last time I tried it, and the Bitter was good as well. Unfortunately the Ruby Bitter I had a half of next was off, so I swapped this for a half of the Hartington IPA. Their beers may have changed a little over the years but I think the Flower Power amply demonstrates they still brew great beer.

Next up I finally got to visit Den Engel. Literally two minutes away, its some surprise that I have managed to miss this pub on my previous ten visits. Four real ales and 10 or so taps plus a decent bottle range makes this s great place to relax in a bar which, as far as is possible, does really seem to be reminiscent of a continental, if not Belgian bar. Here I had a bottle of the De Ranke Saison De Dottignies and Mr G a soft drink. The saison was very palatable, and more like the Fantome, which I suspect is a good thing, and was also easy to drink despite the carbonation and chilly serving temperature. A great place to drink.

Off into Cheshire next and we popped in the Vale Inn Bollington to eat and of course drink. We both had Bollington Brewery Oat Mill stout, a half for the driver of course, and that was on decent form, and I also tried half a Bollington Goldenhall, which was a tasty slightly sweet amber ale. The food was a sensible price and the place was heaving, although much annoyance ensued following finding lots of reserved tables. Nothing says piss off better than a table you can't sit at .

Following on with that theme, the White Swan at Kettleshume is fast becoming a restaurant. Very few diners but every table set out for eating, and the snug, which must hold all of eight people, the only place you could simply sit and drink. That said, no-one objected to us sitting at a table set for dining, so that's a plus, but its not really conducive to a relaxing pint. I had a half of the 4.0% Copper Dragon Silver Myst, which was very nice.

Off through the dark lanes now to Lamaload, then past the Cat and Fiddle to Dale Head and into Earl Sterndale. The Quiet Woman was almost the quiet pub, as the couple leaving as we got there turned out to have been the only customers. No sign of Ken (perhaps enjoying his evening nap, although someone in the back was reading the paper) and nothing to distract us sat in the relaxing calm of the bar. I was on a pint of Jennings Dark Mild in the absence of a guest beer, Mr G on a soft drink once again, and despite the unusual emptiness of the pub it was still a nice stop off on our hectic route.

Our penultimate stop was at the Royal Cottage. Arriving as the first customers of the night we had a good chat with Cliff and I supped a bottle of Old Speckled Hen. It was unusual to hear Cliff bemoan his lot in terms of the pub not making money but its obvious after our chat that the folk night is pivotal. It was cancelled on the 26th due to snow and with its high isolated position the pub couldn't open Saturday either. I've never visited the pub late on before but I got the impression that its usually closed by 22.30, so trading is very restricted. Luckily, on this occasion, other customers were coming in when we left near ten.

A final run into Bakewell put the tiny back lanes behind us, but not before we headed out to Wardlow Mires to visit the Three Stags Heads. A decent range of Abbeydale beers were available as always, and I got a pint of Absolution an Mr G a soft drink (poor lad!).

A great deal of dogs were present, and a varied conversation about anything and everything played out in front of the warming fire as we sat against the left hand wall surveying the scene. Its good to see that nothing has changed here, so Mr Grant got to see the pub as it usually is, chaotic, eclectic, traditional and unique. And the beers was pretty good as well.

So concluded a fantastic yomp round the countryside, with all the pubs being open when they should have, and the trip serving as a rather unsuitable precursor to my attending Barraharri's leaving do. At least he got to visit the Royal Cottage back in August. Just a shame he missed the Yew Tree. Seems you sometimes need two goes at getting a pub crawl right, and this three counties drive manages that perfectly.

Thanks to Mr Grant for tirelessly ferrying me around - thanks to Barraharri for showing it was possible.

Wee Beefy

Changing face or surprising trend?

Morning

     I was out with Wee Fatha and Wee keefy and Jambon last night for a trip to the redoubtable Royal Cottage, and another pub in the area. It was interesting to note that the Royal Cottage, probably one of the most traditional rural pubs in a 100 mile radius survives, in spite of its restricted opening hours and isolation. On the other hand though, other pubs in the area appear to be falling by the way side at an alarming rate. Is there a defining factor?

Last night was the trip to help find out, but we  were a bit late picking Wee Keefy and Jambon up as the Friday night Wednesday Leeds game was generating lots of traffic. Despite telling W.F this, he stuck to his desired route - and got stuck in traffic, whilst commenting that football always used to only be played on a Saturday, without extrapolating how that meant it shouldn't be played on a Friday. Once heading off with our full quota, Wee Keefy advised a Manchester Road escape, which was also ignored, leading us to another mire of traffic on Ecclesall Road. Hmm...

Eventually reaching the Royal Cottage, the light was already on and the door unlocked, and when we got in, and Jessie the Rottweiler finally realised that she was supposed to scare us off, i.e try and lick us all to death (especially tastily named Jambon), it was clear that Cliff's mate wasn't in either. This seems like such an insignificant thing, but as a semi regular visitor I can assure you that, quite simply, nothing changes here. Not at all.

Bottled delights in hand we sat down facing the bar end with Cliff in his favoured chair for a long chat, including finding out that having said nothing changes, the pub had in fact previously been called the Moorcock Inn. I couldn't find out when the change happened since Cliff and W.F and the others were busy nailing the date of Bonnie Prince charlie's retreat from Derby, which was amusingly implied by Cliff as the time the name changed, whilst the Scots were camped on Bareleg Hill nearby. Alas no-one asked W.F if he remembered.

Another round of drinks followed, me and Jambon on original strength bottled Old Speckled Hen, Keefy on Newky and W.F on tomato juice. As a professor of reminiscence W.F, and Cliff could probably, given the chance, talk for a whole day about all things transport, 1950's and changing times. Despite an unfortunate emphasis on motoring issues, I was just happy to sit, albeit slowly cooking by the fire, watching the natural conversation ebb and flow in front of my eyes.

All too soon we had to be off, which as per last time coincided with the arrival of Sam who probably comes in every Friday night. Jessie seemed to know he was there before he came in and got up to welcome him before any of us heard the door. We bade our farewell safe in the knowledge that whilst ever the pub remains open this scene will repeat itself unsullied for years to come.

Heading back through Longnor next we thought we saw life in the Crewe and Harpur Arms, and the Horseshoes is now closed, but we were heading for the new hub of real ale that is the Packhorse at Crowdecote. Its ten tears or more since I last visited with Wee Keefy, the 1980's since W.F popped in and a frst visit for Jambon. Whilst nothing has changed in the layout which is a long thin pub with an offshoot at the side of the entrance, one major change here is the bar.

Now sporting 5 handpumps, one for real cider, and almost all selling local or nearby brewery ales, this was a welcome relief, but not exactly a surprise since hearing of its renaissance I had looked at their website and knew broadly what to expect. The sites emphasis on food was not the catalyst for marginalised drinking, even though it was late when we arrived there was plenty of space to sit and drink and the owner Mick encouraged us to sit wherever we wanted. None of this "oh, you can't sit here I'm afraid, this is a dining table" malarkey. Just sit down and sup your beer. I may have to test this theory at peak food times admittedly...

On the bar was a choice of Kelham Island Best Bitter, Church End Lock Stock and Barrel, Nook Brewhouse Red Ale and the excellent Wincle Brewery Life of Riley. Keefy had the Nook, me and W.F the Riley and Jambon the surprisingly hoppy Church End. All the real ales are £3.10 a pint which I don't think is a bad price and the Church End and Wincle ale was brilliantly well kept and fantastically tasty.

The Nook Red was a little less well rounded and seemed to give up being a nice beer half way through, so that was taken off, but reducing the range slightly hardly ruined the excellent choice, and by the time Jambon had moved onto Bunnahabhain whisky it was clear that this was going to be an enjoyable closing session.

It was here, and along with information gained frm the Internet earlier this week, that I learnt the fate of Longnor's pubs and some of the others in the Staffordshire Moorlands Area.

The Crewe and Harpur, a large once traditional Marstons pub, changed hands about 8 years ago and became a destination food pub with  a range of real ales. At the time, though it was regrettable that it was deemed impossible to continue on a traditional course, the bright side was the range of real ales not usually available in Longnor. It has now closed, and is rented out as a holiday home (still with bar in situ it seems).

whats interesting is, this is an idea already made reality at the redoubtable Mermaid Inn, a listed building high on the Staffordshire Moorlands near the Royal Cottage. It had been a bit shakey in recent years and shortly before its closure, and on my last visit in 2008 it was a food pub doing one or two real ales. W.F suggested it had branched out into luxury accommodation and that too has now become a holiday home - sleeping 36. Necessary work appears to have been done and the interior looks stunning, and once again the bar is in situ but not in use. Its a sumptuous venue, but a crying shame its not still a pub.

Meanwhile down the road the Rock Inn at Upper Hulme forges a traditional path, still with a food emphasis but now stocking 3 real ales, one of which is local - Wincle Brewery's website states that they supply the beer, so that's a good sign. I haven't managed to get since the Wincle ale appeared so that would be my next plan when we are out that way.

Meanwhile, and finally, the Quiet Woman continues to attract customers by being unbendingly traditional, and in Longnor, the Horseshoes has finally closed, the Grapes has been shut for something near 5 years leaving only the very traditional previously never seemingly open Cheshire Cheese as the market village's only pub.

Its interesting to consider then that, the more traditional, almost exclusively real ale purveying country pubs are in fact doing well, whilst the ones that ditched that core traditional outlook have succumbed to conversion to other uses or simply closed down (not that either the Horseshoes or Grapes were particularly non-traditional).

Its heartening to see the traditional pubs hanging on and in the case of The Packhorse, thriving, but I wonder how many more large struggling isolated country pubs will be seen as tempting accommodation cash cows and suffer the same fate as the Mermaid? That two such pubs in close proximity (and apparently the owners are connected, if only by knowing each other) is almost a trend, and given the hard times in the pub industry I can see no reason why it won't continue to happen.

Thank God we can still visit the Royal Cottage and forget about post 1950's horrors, then nip to a quality real ale pub nearby to sate our drinking needs.

Cheers!

Wee Beefy   

Friday night in North Staffordshire

Afternoon,

     after me and Barraharri's failed camping expedition saw us miss the Quiet Woman, and after Cliff at the Royal Cottage mentioned that he'd not seen my Dad for a while, a chance conversation with Wee Keefy and Wee Fatha resulted in a plan to head out into the dark brooding landscape of the moorland border between Derbyshire and North Staffordshire.

I have started a lengthy break from work as of 17.00 yesterday so was in the mood for some good beer and pubs and the chance to visit two of my favourites was the perfect finish to a great day. We picked up Wee keefy before 19.00 and headed out via Ladybower, Bamford, Bradwell, Millers Dale, Brierlow Bar and Longor to the Royal Cottage on the A53.

We arrived early, its surprisingly easy to make the journey from Crookes in an evening, so we parked up outside in the rain and waited for the outside light to come on at 20.00. Every time me and Wee Fatha visit the Royal Cottage it rains, is foggy, or there are high winds. Or all three. Somehow, the meteorological maelstrom is the perfect accompaniment to a visit to the Cottage, and true to form, since Summer is now officially gone, the fire was lit as we walked in through the passage to be met and licked to death by Jessie the friendly Rottweiler.

Just like last time there was one customer already in, presumably a friend, and he sat with us and Cliff the landlord to talk about just about anything really, whilst I supped a bottle of Old Speckled Hen, WK a bottle of Newky Brown and Wee Fatha a Manns Brown Ale. There is something calming (despite the rather busy garish wallpaper and carpets!) and relaxing about sitting in the Royal Cottage listening to the stoic, measured conversation, especially between Cliff and his regulars. Apart from that those words, the only sound is the odd vehicle whizzing past on the main road outside.

As mentioned before, the pub only really seems to be busy at the folk nights on the last Friday of each month, on all other occasions, I've never seen more than 4 customers including us. Sat near the fire with Jessie slumped like a dead weight on my leg listening to Cliff suggest my Dad's recollections of the local railway were from the Thirties (now that's harsh!) and calmly arguing with the bucolic chap next to me about the number of dogs at the Butchers Arms 30 years ago is, despite my description, the epitome of traditional pub atmosphere.

Wee Keefy in the bar room

We stopped for  a few beers in here, Wee Fatha had to go to tomato juice after a bit, and I made a rather unwise decision to try the draught. I noticed Cliff was on the Tetley smoothflow, and whilst that's not a beer I like particularly I thought I'd give it a go.

The more militant amongst you will view what I did next as a travesty, as might those with a nod to medical knowledge, but I drank the beer, even though it was unlike almost any other beer I have ever tasted. And that's not a compliment. It was, through the first two layers of odd earthy sourness, reminiscent of the nitro cream edge of all smoothflow beers, and there was a hint of Tetley malt in the background, with bitterness indiscernible from the sharper flavours. It reminded me of the odd "beer" they sold at the Seven Starts at Halfway House in Shropshire - identifiable only as beer by echoes of malt and hops. Maybe I'm soft not to refuse to drink it. So be it. At least when he offered to top it right to the line I declined....

All too soon another customer had arrived and unfortunately it was time to move on, to leave the darkness of the bar and the harsh single light above the tables and the amazing flock upholstered and covered furniture behind. Having only been visiting for about 6 years I can hardly be accused of having a blinkered memory lane view of this unique pub, so perhaps I have a blinkered view of it now. I can't find fault, well, other than the draught, and that's not really something I say very often. Opening times, as confirmed last night, really are only 20.00 to later on, Friday and Saturday. I continue to believe that the effort of factoring in a trip is well worth it.

We drove back through Longnor next where its clear that the Crewe and Harpur has closed (a light or two on but curtains drawn and the big door shut, no outside lights) and then down through Crowdecote and left up the little lane into Earl Sterndale where Wee Fatha's settling dog parking habits ensured a tantalising wait for entrance to the pub.

Inside it was quite busy and there were 3 beers on, with the excellent pork pies and meat pies on the bar (along with fresh eggs on the piano top) offering a choice of Jennings dark Mild, Marstons Bitter and Wincle Sir Philip. I had intended to keep up my tradition of having a pint of mix but I love Wincle brewery beers so couldn't resist the complex fruity allure of the Sir Phillip.

We got sat down in front of the bar and got chatting to a bloke who used to live in Sale - not that remarkable, until you consider that is where Wee Fatha grew up, and it turns out they lived round the corner from one another. The last time such a co-incidence occurred was in the Royal Cottage, where we got chatting to a man who used to play in the woods near the Jacksons Boat Inn near Sale. I love small world stories like that.

Being somewhat short of good draught thus far I probably had 3 or 4 pints of the excellent Sir Phillip in here, with WK departing for a Dark Mild for two of his, and I got chance to chat to Ken the landlord who is a veritable font of knowledge. Turns out he and Cliff went to school together, and I learnt more about the Royal Cottage in ten minutes than I could have - or indeed would have tried to - in 10 years of visiting.

Alas eventually we had to head home, and with very little traffic we were back in Crookes in 50 minutes, and back home a little further on for me I sat down with a bite to eat and a satisfied positive feeling of having been to two of the best pubs in the area.

All we need to do now is go back and visit the pub at Crowdecote - where rumour has it, an enterprising new landlord of this formerly Worthington or Tetley only pub, has gone mad and put on four guest real ales. Its just another excuse to go to the Royal Cottage of course, but why not?

Cheers!

Wee Beefy

Epic three counties beer tour

Afternoon,

    I won't make any apologies for the superlative above because what I am about to describe really was a massive undertaking, featuring some of the most stunning scenery, absurd roads, momentous vistas and finest pubs. Barraharri was the driver who made the trip possible, and if we conveniently sidestep the fact that camping didn't go to plan due to a lack of poles, this was a fantastic day out. Here's what happened (apologies for the length of this post!).

We set off in inauspicious circumstances, taking the Staveley exit from the M1 (and then the Staveley ageing process road) into Chesterfield, before finding our way up to Walton Hospital and over the moor to Two Dales. Our delay meant we could have legitimately stopped off at the Plough but it was a Friday lunch so it wasn't guaranteed they'd be open - unfortunately, this Friday lunch malarkey was something that slipped my mind prior to stop number one.

Having headed through Darley Bridge and Wensley, where the bizarre and eccentric Red Lion is now reportedly closed, we drove to Winster and wound our way up the barely drivable snickett that comes out at the Miners Standard then headed over Bonsall moor into Uppertown. Here we took the preposterous road down into the dale, to find a beer festival banner at the Barley Mow, and it closed. They don't open Friday's. They probably never have. I thought it was Saturday. Silly beefy...

From here we came out onto the Via Gellia and followed the road as far as Newhaven then headed down the A515, coming off past Shining Tor to Milldale and Hopedale, then through Stanshope to Ilam, followed the footpath/road through Throwley and out onto the Leek Road at Waterhouses, to head to teh Yew Tree at Cauldon. Which was also closed. Doh.

Barraharri wore a pained expression, I was annoyed, but as we later discovered, the landlord had been unwell, and somebody else was running the bar for him. They really did used to open dinnertimes, but this was obviously no longer the case. Knowing that the Red Lion at Waterfall would also be closed we headed into Leek, parked up and visited the excellent Wilkes Head.

Three beers on here, all from Whim, Barraharri went for the Hartington Bitter and me a pint of the IPA, which lasted about 5 minutes. I also went back for a pint of the excellent Flower Power. All the beers including the stronger 5.2% Flower Power were below £3.00 a pint (the latter £2.90). An excellent if belated start.

Next we had to suffer the dismay of driving on a proper road into Macclesfield and on to Bollington where we parked up and visited the Vale Inn. There were 5 Bollington Brewery Co beers on with one guest from Blackjack Brewing. Barraharri enjoyed a half of Parklife and me a pint of the 500 nights (I think, it was dark anyway) which was a fabulous smooth roasted malt delight that went down well.

Since we were now effectively early, we decided to go for a walk and maybe another beer. It was gone three and we passed the Hollybush, Bollington's National Inventory listed pub, but in keeping with our theme of abject closed pub disappointment the door was locked. We walked onto the Poachers, not really expecting it to be open, which inevitably it wasn't. We completed our Bollington circuit via 2 more closed pubs and one which was open which we decided to give a wide berth before getting back in the car. On our way out we noticed the Holly Bush was now open, but the moment was lost and we decided instead to press on.



Up to Pymchair next for a look at the views and a late dinner, before we got back onto the route, somewhat wiggly, to Earl Sterndale, via Wincle and the Royal Cottage (so we could memorise its location for later). We headed past Lamaload and straight across the main road into Wildboarclough, followed its length then headed down into Wincle for gone 17.00, alas, that was too early for the Ship at Wincle to be open as well, although I hadn't expected to be there that early.

Next we followed the road over the moors to Royal Cottage before heading along Dale Head and down Dowal Dale then up to Earl Sterndale for 10 to 6 - we had told them we would arrive about 6. We parked up in the least fly-y place, and started to unfurl the tent.....and discovered half of the poles were missing. How we laughed. This was not a simple A frame tent so no poles 3 and 4 meant no tent. I'm not apportioning any blame here but Barraharri was very annoyed with himself. And we were too early for the Quiet Woman to open....

A lesser duo may have given up at this point but we pressed on, not least because we needed a loo stop. In Longnor, we found the Grapes, Crewe and Harpur Arms and Cheshire Cheese shut (but then, has the Cheshire Cheese ever been open?) which is surprising for nearly 18.30 on a Friday, but luckily the Horseshoes was forging a path by being open, so we popped in for a pint of Marstons Bitter (two in my case) whilst Barraharri spent 20 minutes waiting at the chippy for the most rubbish fishcake butty you ever saw. The proprietors of the chip shop really need to go to Betty's to see how its really done.

Next we drove the short distance to the excellent Butchers Arms at Reapsmoor. They opened a few minutes after we got there (officially its 18.45) and we were soon inside, playing the find out the identity of the real ale game. Only one on this time, an apple themed ale which Carl repeatedly insisted he did not know the identity of. Which was a shame, as it was quite nice.

We got settled down near one of the fires and admired the view across the moors whilst supping our refreshing fayre (a delicious water for Barraharri) as the pub quickly filled up with drinkers and diners. Please note that a rudimentary web search has thrown up very few suggestions for the beer's identity, unless it was Downton or Wissey Valley, both of which seem very unlikely. Perhaps Springhead Bramley Bitter?

Anyway we made our way over to Royal Cottage next, stopping to photograph the view at the Mermaids pool, before parking up next to the pub and enjoying the views over Staffordshire. The Royal Cottage opens "about 20.00" but the landlord has always said that you can knock if you are in the  area earlier and he'll let you in. At 20.00 we caved in and knocked and Cliff let us in to the dimly lit delights of this ultra traditional pub.

The very first time I came was bout 6 years ago and it was a folk night - there was draught beer, in the form of Tetley smoothflow, which I think he'd bought in specially. It was certainly heaving, so no doubt he sold most of it, but I've never spotted draught beer since. So my beer was a bottle of Old Speckled Hen whilst Barraharri experimented with a small bottle of Manns, just for the novelty.

We stood in the dim light (Cliff turns the light off over the bar when he's not serving!) and chatted to him and his friend and fussed the enormous rottweiler that has the gruffest and loudest bark, but not a temperament to match. It was here we found out about the Yew Tree and the fate of the Red Lion at Wensley, and discussed some of the finer points of life in Sheffield over our drinks.

I think its safe to say that I don't know of another pub like the Royal Cottage. Its a dying breed of farmhouse pubs that serve as company for the farmer and a place to meet for the locals, and probably almost never sees passing trade, although visitors are made to feel welcome. Bearing in mind that its only open from 8ish onwards Friday and Saturday, I reckon a casual unplanned visit is unlikely, but I highly recommend you make the effort to go. Please be aware that Cliff insists he's not about to start serving food any time soon....

We headed towards Elton next, and petrol became a bit of a preoccupation. We drove through Hartington and up to the main road then into Monyash, and decided that we would have to divert so headed to the garage in Bakewell for supplies. We now had just enough time to go to the Duke of York at Elton, having missed the Winster turning, by the rather lengthy but pleasant dawdle from Middleton by Youlgrave. We were able to park up outside the pub, distinguishable only by my knowing exactly where it was, and a dim light above the doorway.

Inside there was a choice of two beers, Adnams and I think Marstons Bitter. I went for the Adnams but it was very tired and noting that everyone buying cask was on Martsons perhaps should have been a hint to what would have been a better choice. Sat by the fire we got chatting to Len who used to work at Rolls Royce, whilst surveying the unchanging scene in the tiny bar. I seem to get out to the Duke of York less and less now, which is a real shame, because this is a fantastic unspoilt country pub on the National Inventory of unspoilt pub interiors.

All too soon we had to leave and got back to Dronfield by 22.30, Barraharri dropping me at the Coach and horses whilst he went to park the car. We had a few pints in here, mainly Jaipur and Lord Marples, although I did also have a rather enjoyable bottle of Urthel Saisonnaire, before we got a couple of pints (or more?) of Jaipur to take away, and enjoyed them at Barraharri's with homemade burgers.

The moral of this story is clearly, never go on a Friday! But had we been stopping over at Earl Sterndale we would have got to more pubs such as the redoubtable Quiet Woman, and perhaps Waterfall and Cauldon on the way home.

Either way this was a really enjoyable, if tiring and frustrating day out in fantastic countryside.

Cheers!

Wee Beefy