BRAPA in .... FIVE WAYS TO LEAVE YOUR (GBG) COVER : WARWICKSHIRE APPALS SIMON
5 minutes ago
7 min read
Thursday 30th July 2026
Sometimes in this unforgiving game, you have to accept minimal pub ticks in a day if you're going to achieve those true rural classics. If they appear in the Good Beer Guide every single year, it'll still be more worthwhile than a day where you fire off six 'here today, gone tomorrow' Bristol micropubs.
Arriving in Birmingham just shy of 10am, there was ample opportunity before my Moor Street connexion to suck up one of my (many) remaining pre-emptive West Midlands Wetherspoons ......
Blink and you'll miss it stuff from the Dragon, Birmingham. And you can't say that about too many 'Spoons frontages. Seems I'm not the only one who's blinked because with the exception of a gaggle of desultory old guffers, the place is deserted. The scene is slightly tatty, a dirty yellow pipe is snaking around the bar. I hope my beer isn't coming out of there! A bossy barmaid snaps at me to walk around to the far bar, and after her and a colleague engage in a "hey babes, how's you today hun?" exchange, the nice one comes around to serve me. Full of chatter, "I'm always alroite babes!" she replies when I enquire as to her general health, although she admits she's fearing tomorrow because 'The Blues' (who I take to be Birmingham City F.C. cos I know 'ball - ugh) have a friendly against Barcelona and it is gonna be PACKED with 35,000 punters, hmmm. My eyebrow was skepitcal. I suck down a reliable dark Byatt's, award the carpet an 8/10 and tell myself ALL 'Spoons will make the GBG one day.
From Moor Street, I take a train to Hatton, from where it is a decent yomp to the awfully located Five Ways, though child's play of a walk when you've spent a week in North Devon (#StillScarred). I extend the walk by going straight over the crossroads rather than turning right cos that particular road looked scary.
I've been promising myself a visit to the Case is Altered, Five Ways (3556 / 6346) all year, so this was a particularly sweet tick and means I've only broken three promises to myself this Guide (Ceddesfield Sedgefield, Boat Stoke Bruerne and Anchor High Offley). The local blokes crumble internally when I look them in the eye and say hello, but I have better luck with our follicly challenged landlady who must've worked here 300 years and pulls me a 5* pint of their Case Ale, randomly brewed by North Cotswold. The tiled floor, gleaming old brewery mirrors and a handsome grandfather clock are my highlights. Aside from the bit where the locals try speaking Italian to demonstrate cosmopolitan leanings but they're so rural Warwickshire that it falls flat on the first vowel. I wander outside towards the modern marquee, even this contains furniture that looks centuries old. I'd wanted to explore the other rooms, and more importantly, summon up an Uber with the heightened outdoor signal, which arrives unnecessarily quickly, but when you look at a map, we aren't as far from civilisation (if Warwick is civilised, I'll let you judge) as one might think.
On this limited ticking day, I felt that I could afford one (maybe two) little Uber cheats, and our mate Tanveer dispatches me swiftly at my other 'most wanted' Warwickshire tick .....
I hoped that the New Inn really IS the New Inn, Norton Lindsey (3557 / 6347) because it virtually looks like a private house from the angle of taxi droppage. Thankfully a long row of handpumps presided over by two of the chirpiest ladies in short shorts with tanned legs (not that I noticed #WokeSi2026) you'll meet (even our barmaid at the Dragon was now in the dust) convince me I'm in the right place. Hard act to follow 'Case is Altered' , I was slightly underwhelmed by the interior, but looking back there was carpet and comfort. I wasn't helped by the ale, choosing the M&B throwback because the pumpclip was tiny and I felt sorry for it! Not good. But I think it was a beer more than a pub issue. A community owned pub too, and with this many beers on in middle of nowhere, I'd wager this'll be a GBG lifer. An old lady has wheeled her mobility scooter inside, got wedged beside a pillar on a slope around the bend, and is now shouting that she wants sorbet. That's as fun as the customers got as they were of a sleepy elderly vintage.
So now it was all about trying to be clever with pre-emptives for the remainder of the day. Could I justify a second Uber so soon? Well yes, Warwick ain't far, especially west Warwick where a 3* rated CAMRA pub which was in last year's GBG is located.
What could possibly go wrong?
My expectations for all pubs in the Ale Hub chain are low, but holy fuck, Ale Hub, Warwick was a horror! I'd given this dismal little pub group their due when I'd enjoyed their surprisingly high quality, well run (and identically fronted and situated) outlet on the outskirts of Worcester. This one is all but empty, the barmaid and a bloke who she appears to be training / giving some kind of tour are both charmless. The one ale on is Butty Bach. Farty slop. Not even any exciting crafty keggy options. ALE HUB? You're having a laugh. Who's giving this a top beer rating in CAMRA? I ask her why there's a load of weak blackcurrant cordials lined up. For a bloke coming in later, apparently. Getting prepped in advance, he loves the stuff! Hope he likes it warm. Could never be mi old mate Tom 'Clag Monster' Irvin, he'd never accept it so weak. Whole place screams 'winding down towards inevitable closure'. The duo go outside to smoke, so I am alone now. So depressing, and I have a fair trek back to the centre of town too, tsk!
I'd spied two more central Warwick pubs with 3* beer scores, but after that, I'd lost a bit of faith in the local CAMRA's judgement. But no harm whipping a half in the first one I come to.
Historic boozer, no doubt it was good until fairly recently. But the Roebuck, Warwick has had its heart ripped out, the flooring is horrid considering the general style and shape of building. Seating no better. The Bass doesn't have its own pumpclip, but a cute little red triangle drawn on a chalkboard. Shame it tastes like hot dross. The barmaid is a curio, very smiley from a distance, yet aloof at the bar, both on the way in and when I return my glass. Even Warwick's GBG pubs are rather underwhelming in past experience, so I guess today shouldn't have been too much of a surprise - but even so, I'd seen enough, get me back to Brum!
Getting back to Brum was the easy part, getting out again trickier.
It was still early enough in the day to attempt a pre-emptive Halesowen Black Country Ales duo. One inner, one outer.
But a combination of the bus taking so long to arrive plus the absolute crawl out of the centre meant I made the (painful) decision to abandon the outer one, and focus on the inner .....
A more satisfying tick than any of that Warwick nonsense, mainly on account of having a BCA 'passbook' and BRAPA stamp, which provides almost green Stabilo levels of ticking satisfaction, the Whitley, Halesowen was in truth standard (generic?) BCA fayre. Friendlier than the Waggon & Horses across town (is anywhere more of a BCA hotbed than Halesowen?), unfortunately a soupy, fizzy 'Hoppylicious' from perennial Welsh disappointments Feelin' Foul had me thinking 'probably not much chance of a GBG appearance'. Still, watch this space I guess! Sweaty, clammy and quite dead within, I join the majority in the sun-kissed astro-turfed beer 'garden' (complete with covered smoking shelter showing an exciting golf tournament). There's a puggy dog that can't breathe properly who keeps getting told off by his owners, so me and a scrawny dude in shades bond over the apparent cruelty and then I whizz off through the gate, determined to sneak in another ....
Because just across the road, I'd spied a pub I recognise from fairly recent GBG's .....
Sacrilege to say this but Hawne Tavern, Halesowen is my pub of the day ahead of even Case is Altered just in terms of a joyful, sparky, 100% pub atmosphere. The type where as an outsider you feel quite naked waiting for your pint to be pulled, apologising for being in the way of everyone even though you aren't. The accents are rich, the Batham's bitter (in a non-Batham's pub rarity) is richer still, frothy goodness and the locals take it turns to do a sweaty comic routine whilst the staff shriek and yap. I could've had a half under pre-emptive rules, but you'd be a braver man than me to order a half in here!
Old Hill, train back to Brum, and even time for a swift 'arf in the always wonderful Craven Arms to remind you just how spot-on BCA pubs can be .....
Of course DrossCountry announced my York train was delayed at the very last minute, so I consoled myself with a Capri-Sun and packet of cheese & onion .....
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