Thursday 29th January 2026
Note the addition of 'Hot Mango Immunity' shot to kick off the return of #ThirstyThursdays for 2026. I've been circling the man-flu drain for the entirety of this long cruel January.
When my Mackem mate John commented last Tuesday that he's ready for spring time, I know it's bad as he's the most Autumnal/Wintry lover I know.
Tyne & Wear today. Just the three ticks to do in the 2026 GBG to complete the county. I'm looking to add two south Northumberland ticks into the mix to bring me down to six required there. Nothing too difficult on paper, just a bit of logistical planning required getting between them.
Spirits were high after my Stirling epic the previous Saturday. The pub gods smiled on me that day. Pubs, pints, people. All close to 10/10. And the North East of England rarely lets me down so what could possibly go wrong?
The wind is bitter as I arrive in Whitley Bay via Metro, still unclear how to navigate the Tube map despite this being about my 5,000.000,000 visit up here.
Through a courtyard and inside the Fire Station, Whitley Bay (3239 / 6080). Now if I'd had my current Wetherspoons monster mentality (thanks Lucy Bronze) before now, I'd have pre-emptively ticked this off yonks ago. A near perfect 9.75/10 carpet is an early beacon of false hope, the tired nature of this pint of ESB by Allendale (a style and brewery which should've guaranteed a good beer experience) is the first sign that the Scottish pub gods were halted at the border. With the blowiest extractor fan since Ashford Kent competing with five happy gadgies for noise levels, a late arriving Jacob's Twiglet of a man pulls up a stool and explains how he was scammed by a Turkish man, possibly called Acun but hopefully not. Oh, and the loos allow you to pass solids if you require which makes it preferable to the Split Chimp .... I've been holding that one in for three years (the injustice, not the poo).
The bus was delayed and it really isn't the weather for it. I tell an old lady I'm glad I've brought my big coat because I'm from York and she's looks at me like I'm exotic, sort of.
It is a long winding route towards Cramlington, this one goes via Annitsford where a brand new Wetherspoons has recently opened. It'd be rude not to tick it. The journey is prolonged by an ambulance dealing with a collapsed bloke in the middle of the road. Couldn't he have collapsed on the pavement?
The bus takes a diversionary route. My bladder is killing. The bus stop is incorrectly plotted on Google Maps so I have to get off at the next one and walk back.
I wish I could say that the New Moor Farm, Annitsford, Cramlington was worth the effort, that 'all Spoons are pre-emptive', that it has 'every chance' of making a future GBG, but on this showing, zero chance. Diabolical. It is next door to a Premier Inn in one of those grim fake service stations featuring a MaccyD's and very little else. It was obviously a Harvester / Brewers Fayre / Hungry Horse gaff for the Premier Inn breakfast goers until Wetherspoons took over, but what's really striking is how they've not put their usual stamp on it. Apart from the beers, you wouldn't know. 5/10 carpet. Sort of makes you realise how normally, Spoons are decent when all said and done .... but you know that. A barmaid of zero charisma serves me a pint (I'd asked for a half) of 'Auld Acquaintance' (the Loch Lomond Burns Night beer I'd enjoyed in Alloa). Just about drinkable, but very sloppy. 'Let this Auld Acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind, I'll take a sip of shite beer yet, for auld lang Sime' as I said on Untappd which deserved more love but beer dorks don't do humour. I'm briefly cheered up by a canny old lass at the bar next to me. No point her trying to get a smile out of the barmaid so she talks to me about her hatred of an overly sweet Christmas present which she's seen here called a Strawberry Buzzball. Looks like a grenade. I was just about to hate her due to her complex curry order but she's redeemed herself. I drink the half of my beer I wanted, hide it behind a food menu, go for a piss I don't need, and leave.
Standing at the (correct) bus stop, I'm relieved to get outta here and into Crammers proper for today's actual second tick. Yet again, it is a Wetherspoons and again I can't help feeling 'why oh why didn't I tick this off pre-emptively when I came here for the Plough last March?'
A vast improvement at John the Clerk of Cramlington, Cramlington (3240 / 6081) which brought me up to 72% GBG completion mark just in time for my month end audit. Loved his header at the Nou Camp in the 85th minute following great work from Paul Sturrock, and he's built a 'Spoons far preferable to Annitsford down the road. Even the near total lack of carpet can be forgiven, for it is warm and rammed with NE accents and rosy cheeks. I have to take a posing table close to the bar such is the lack of seating. Perhaps best of all is a gorgeous smell of wood smoke, like you've just walked into that pub in Fritham in the Hampshire New Forest. Even the beer is decent, Oakham Bishop's Farewell, £1.60 with a Mudgie voucher. Maybe things were looking up ......
Stannington ain't far, but not walkable, has no train, and I cannot see a direct bus from Cramlington so Uber makes sense in such situations. Jebin Joseph might sound like a Leyton Orient YTS full back but he's a sound lad and gets the job done.
Ah finally a break from 'Spoons dominance and what's more, a Fitzgerald's pub. I ALWAYS love Fitzgerald's pubs ..... well not anymore, Ridley's Arms, Stannington (3241 / 6082) was weirdly weak in every department. A huge St Bernard's dog looked like it wanted to eat me. Three times! Bar staff are stand offish. Temperature just not quite warm enough. And worst of all, the Three Brothers Milkshake Pale which looked amazing on paper, had the horrid 'on too soon' taste which I'm starting to think is every bit as bad as a pint of vinegar. One of the barmen sidles up to two old lads at the bar and tells them about the yummy mushrooms he had in Amsterdam recently, and I don't think he means the ones I put in my lunchtime omelettes. Still, regular readers of my blog might now be saying 'it'd explain a lot about your ramblings, Si'. Well, thanks bastards! Anyway, the old lads then try taking the piss out of a guy who's just bought three bags of crisps. 'Ya greedy bugger!' they trying joshing with a wink, but he ain't playing and flatly replies "actually, they are for my son. I'm picking him up from school in a minute' Okay, so your son is a greedy bugger then!
More problems lay ahead on this unluckiest of days. Stannington's bus stop ain't actually in the village, but right out on the slip road by the A1. My phone wasn't telling me how long the walk was, so I had to wing it, and thought I'd been clever finding a more southerly crossing of the A1 .... which by the way was terrifying, don't recommend!
I'd under-egged the time required so start jogging, but I'm not at full health with this long lazy winter. However, I think I've JUST made it when I see the bus pulling in and a lass getting off. I try waving desperately, but he drives off. Sure he must've seen me. Bugger!
Buses are hourly, it immediately starts raining again, I don't fancy a Ridley return, so I begrudgingly call up another Uber, from a gatepost so I can have a pee in a farmer's field. 16 mins to wait.
When Ernest arrives, he says 'whatya doing out here at this crazy pick up point?!' and our journey back into Newcastle is laugh a minute after that. Great guy, Cheers me up no end. And only £4 more than my previous taxi which is weird.
He drops me in the middle of the University with a vague "I think it is roughly in that direction!" and after climbing a few unlikely staircases in a precinct style area, I somehow stumble upon it ...... #Spoons again ......
Ah, Martin Luther King. So that's who Luther's Bar, Newcastle (3242 / 6083) is named after. The guy who inspired Geordie students to rise up in the knowledge that whilst they'll never be as good as their Sunderland counterparts, they can still make something of their sad little lives. The immediate bar area is intimate and cosy, but it sprawls into gloomy nothingness further down and whilst the loos are not upstairs as per the 'Spoons norm, you won't walk further for a pub toilet this year. Set off early to avoid disappointment / embarrassment. No guests on, just the three 'Spoons standards of Doom, Abbot and Ruddles. Strange. A bloke later tells me they often have student brewed beers called StuBrew with names like 'Put Your Pot Noodle Down and Have a Bath You Filthy Urchin'. Not that, but something like that. I guess that's how it got in the GBG cos I cannot imagine Newc CAMRA doing it off the back of even a very well kept pint of any of those three. But this Abbot IS excellent, pint of the day so far, not that the bar was high. Talking of bars, the staff are unhelpful re WiFi and won't let me use a Mudgie Voucher and there's this really obnoxious young Irish guy sat two tables down with a voice that carries talking aggressively at a table of lecturers about mathematics! So despite the good beer, it still wasn't a winning experience.
One tick to go then for Tyne & Wear completion, down on the Quayside. The rain is heavy and I've worn my favourite Converse which are absolutely hopeless in wet weather. I'm like Bambi on ice, but in the wet!
You can imagine that by the time I reach those steep steps down past the Bridge Inn, I was totally paranoid re breaking my neck as I cling on to the railings for dear life! But I made it unscathed.
A fabulous building, an okay pub, if that makes sense. I'm glad I go to the loo in the early stages of Red House, Newcastle (3243 / 6084) because I get lost trying to retrace my footsteps back to the room I'd come from, and find myself in not one, not two, but three comparable side / back rooms, none of which contain my bag, panda or GBG! 'Tis truly is a behemoth of Tudoresque wonderment. The beer is quality too. Newcastle is too good a beer city for my poor earlier run to continue and this Wensleydale 'Laughs' is GBG worthy. Sadly, it was less enjoyable due to the smell of toilets / drains which had somehow seeped through to the front bar. Atmopshere was MKM Stadium Tuesday night levels of deadness too. Save for a barfly chatting up the barmaid for eternity, the only customer was a little old oriental lady who shuffled in for half a Guinness later on. Poor for the Quayside 6pm on a Thursday night, however wet.
I slip, slid my way back towards the station, and even had a time for a swift Christmas Kitty in my original and favourite Head of Steam just across the road .....
The train ride home went smoothly, which was a surprise in itself on this tricky return to #ThirstyThursday action.
But Tyne & Wear is complete, Northumberland is down to six. So I have no regrets.
See you on Friday when we'll see what's cracking off in East Lancs and Chorley.
Si
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