* The omens look good with bright and sunny skies as I head into Wolverhampton to meet Mr Chance. Sure enough he’s there waiting at Queen Street in his usual attire (Metallica tribute with an underlying hint of scarecrow), although I can't comment too much as my shirt and jumper combination makes for a passable impression of Rupert the Bear. No sooner have we exchanged greetings than Rog has declared an ‘Andy moment’, so its a dash to the Mander Centre facilities where he bursts into the gents without noticing the 'female attendant on duty' sign, I don’t know which of them got more of a surprise!
* We make our way to Stafford Street to catch our first bus of the day, the 76 to Stafford. The service has changed a bit since I last caught it and currently serves Brewood and some estates in Stafford (Ten Butts Crescent and Merrivale Road) although I understand it is soon to revert back to its previous routing. Sitting on the back seat it appears we’ve unwittingly found another group of pub enthusiasts as a small faction from Wolverhampton CAMRA also seemed to be on board eyeing up various watering holes.
* With traffic building up in Stafford town centre we decide to alight at the rail station to theoretically give us more chance of getting to Gaol Square in time for the Eccleshall bus. The walk through town offers glimpses of Victoria Park and the Broad Eye windmill, then we dart through the shopping streets and out by the Vine Hotel. We spot the 76 arriving at Gaol Square moments before us and then discover that the very same bus is now going to Eccleshall – we needn’t have got off at all!
* With the 76 having morphed into the 432, we reclaim our back seat positions for the ride up to Eccleshall, a relatively quick journey leaving Stafford via the cemetery, Holmcroft and the M6 junction. We then encounter Creswell followed by Great Bridgeford before alighting on Stafford Street by the post office.
* Despite the bleak condition last time I was here, Eccleshall had made enough of an impression to entice me back. We take a little stroll up the High Street, the walk being punctuated by various photos of targets including the George, Bell and Royal Oak pubs, the Crown Surgery, the local library and various general streetscapes admiring the vernacular architecture. Beacon stanchions line either side of the street as Rog worryingly looks out for a handbag ready for Weymouth later this year. We head down Small Lane to track down the Eagle, then note Perry's butchers and the Kings Arms back on Stafford Street. I have to say that the town really does appeal to me, it's just the kind of friendly, parochial place I love to visit.
- The George Inn, Slater's Brewery Tap -* Having got our bearings we can’t resist sampling a couple of the local pubs. My top target is the George Inn, the brewery tap for Slater’s Ales – production took place on these very premises but has more recently relocated to an industrial estate in Stafford. It’s an inviting building and the bar is particularly appealing with a large open fire crackling away. From the Slater’s range I opt for Top Totty, a blonde beer that was very light in colour but still packed a flavourful punch. I’m drawn towards the fire but we eventually settle on a table around the side with a big window looking out onto Castle Street with its comings and goings - a fine start.
* Joining the George in the 2011 Good Beer Guide is The Bell, so its there that we head next and it proved to be a real treat. The pub was very cosy and seemed really popular with plenty of regulars about to add to the rustic charm. The ripple of conversation and banter made us feel at home as we took up a perch at the bar. Usually I’m pretty decisive when it comes to selecting my beer but here I was in a bit of a quandary – when your options include Banks’s, Holden’s, Black Sheep, Titanic and Joule’s you have to give things proper consideration! In the end I go for half a Joule’s Pale Ale and half a Titanic Captain Smith’s, both local tipples with Joule’s having recently been brought back to life in Market Drayton. The barstaff were all friendly (not to mention pretty) and one barmaid even sought our expert opinion when changing over a barrel of Banks's. Add in a playful dog and all in all this was a very enjoyable visit and it was a shame to leave.
* Leave we must however in order to catch the return 432 to Stafford, picking us up from Castle Street flats at 13:20. Arriva cutbacks mean the route has been threatened with the axe, and the last I heard was that the timetable is still scheduled to be withdrawn from the 26th February. It seems to me that the service is an important link for Eccleshall, providing a lifeline connection into Stafford for many residents so I hope something gets sorted out and soon.
- The 432 calls at Eccleshall, but for how much longer? -* The ride is quick but the approaches to Stafford involve the return of ‘Bladderwatch’ as Rog gets increasingly more uncomfortable. We make the emergency decision to alight and end up dashing down a backstreet to find ourselves in the Hop Pole, a pub I’d never head of before. It actually turned out to be a pleasant surprise as I can sample some Slater’s Premium Bitter accompanied by scampi fries, a bit of the Manchester derby and Bullseye on the quiz machine, answering random questions about Len Fairclough and Shergar.
* It was nice to spend a bit more time in Stafford, soaking up the ambience of the county town although I had to resist the temptation to throw Rog in the local prison for crimes against hair. We proceed onwards with our Good Beer Guide mission, catching the 3 towards Wildwood for the very short ride down to Queensville, home to The Spittal Brook. The pub is situated at the end of a row of terraces right up against the railway and was recommended to us by someone Rog works with. The lounge offers a collection of board games, a healthy selection of ales (Everard’s Tiger gets my vote this time) and a mini-library containing various paperbacks, CAMRA booklets and Brocton FC football programmes.
- Celebrating victory in the Spittal Brook -* The board games couldn’t be ignored so we try four-in-a-row with Rog winning the best of five 3-2. We then head into the beer garden, a surprisingly pleasant spot despite the trains hurtling through just the other side of the hedge. Whilst innocently minding my own business, a little kid comes up and ‘arrests’ me, getting me in an armlock and accusing me of punching his dad. I hasten to add that this was all done in jest, and Rog of course thought the whole idea of me being apprehended by a six year old was absolutely hilarious – you couldn’t make it up!
* Evading capture, we go on the run and flag down a passing 825 for the shortest of rides back to town. We just have time to pop into the Sun Inn, Stafford’s recently opened Titanic pub (replacing Rog’s former favourite the Stafford Arms) where I partake of a little Anchor before we decamp to Penkridge courtesy of the 76 calling right outside.
* We while away the evening in relaxing fashion with some further pub calls in Penkridge and Brewood. I'd been delighted with the Staffordshire ales I'd sampled earlier and didn't want to overdo the beers so it was more a case of enjoying the pubs whilst sticking to halves or cokes. In Penkridge we find out that Wolves have lost 2-0 at Arsenal, not a disgrace by any means but it does leave us back at the bottom of the table, before stocking up on bakery goodies courtesy of Jasper's - I am reliably informed that the shop name has no connection to Rog's pet hound.
- Market Street, Penkridge -* Of our evening calls I think The Swan in Brewood had to be my favourite. It's a current Wolverhampton CAMRA Pub of the Year and was very popular, although we still found enough space to watch a bit of the Scotland v Wales match in the Six Nations rugby, Wales having built up a healthy half time lead. A bag of pork crunch neatly accompanies some Three Tuns XXX, another local brew that hails from Bishops Castle in Shropshire.
* Another excellent day is drawing to a close as the 76 returns us to Wolverhampton. There's still a bit of time before Rog's bus home so we call in at the Wheatsheaf and resume our darts-playing escapades last seen in the Garibaldi in January. Rather unwisely we attempt to count down from 301, a tall order that proves too much for Rog despite him building a healthy lead. A bit of crafty whittling sees me gradually come into range and I steal the leg with a deadly 2 despite Rog having something like thirty throws at the single 1 he needed for victory. For the second leg we settle on a more manageable 101 with Rog finally finding a finish with a 13. With no time left for the decider, its over to Queen Street to see Rog safely back onto his 256 at 20:15.
* On reflection today has to go down as another cracking adventure with some truly memorable moments. Pubs were again to the fore as I celebrated the local Staffordshire brewers, but we still found time for some decent exploration and a bit of bus route investigation. The standard for 2011 continues to be very high, and I just hope my escape from the Spittal Brook hasn't started a nationwide manhunt!
No comments:
Post a Comment