BRAPA in .... KELSO EXCITING, A FIRST GBG '26 SIGHTING (BORDERS PART 1/2)

Friday 12th September 2025

On the eve of my first sighting of the new 2026 edition of the Good Beer Guide, I was 'forced' into a long weekend in Scotland due to a dearth of trains between Newcastle and Edinburgh on the Saturday or Sunday.

I set off from York after work, the highlight & lowlight of the journey being my first ever can of Madri.

My Air B 'n B was out in the Fountainbridge part of the city, and I was suspicious of it from the get go due to the wealth of Glade plug-ins located throughout the apartment. What smells was it hiding? Thankfully I wasn't there long enough to find out.

I unpacked then re-packed a smaller BRAPA bag, and headed out into the cruel Scottish night, taking a bus I didn't really need to as far as Morningside.

Bennets of Morningside (3351 / 5837) was my final Edinburgh city tick of the 2025 Good Beer Guide, my final tick before I glimpse the contents of the new 2026 GBG, and Owlie McBurnie's debut pub. Less ornate than it's more central namesake, though 'proper' enough with green leather seating and etched glass. It kept a far better pint tonight, 80/-, meaty, heavy and rewarding. It would be the start of an unprecedented run of quality Scottish cask, the likes of which I'd never seen before. The atmosphere balanced jovial and curmudgeonly to a tee. I sat opposite the dourest dour Scot of the weekend (poor Owlie, tough debut for the lad). And my aims to explore the pub were halted by a sea of bar blockers, no way to pass (or piss) as they watch Partick Thistle and Airdrieonians become the second and third most competent football teams I would see on a TV screen tonight .......

It was at this point which I realised my digs were only a 20+ min walk, so I walked back, popping in randomly at what I thought was my local (though I should've gone to former GBG regular 'The Golden Rule' which was closer still).

'Twas the big red T that lured me in. 'Say I love you with a neon sign, anything to make you mine', as Donna Summer once sang about this iconic beer, Polwarth Tavern, Edinburgh wasn't particularly pre-emptive due to the total lack of cask but a friendlier staff welcome and set of punters. The lager drinks burpy but well, Owlie's height comparable to one of their pint glasses to give you an idea of the inches he has on Colin. Dreadful darts students entertain me, as do Sheffield Utd who are embarrassing themselves at Ipswich. "You're getting sacked in the morning" I sing at the TV showing poor Ruben Selles looking cowed at full time, who I secretly feel sorry for. This pub hasn't made the '26 GBG (shock horror), but this was a morale boosting end to the night, and who knows, cask might get installed before 2045.

Saturday 13th September 2025

Barely a cloud in the sky, bright blue sunshine and I just knew it was going to be a good BRAPA day, despite a slightly overdone porridge and a showerhead which falls off the wall if you breathe on it.

I turn off Prinny Street and walk up Rose Street instead because it is BRAPA tradition, and I can never believe quite how many bars and pubs it possesses.

But it was 'The Borders' which I had my eye on today. Never as sunny out there. I take the train from Waverley, keen to build on my four ticks here a month ago (Galashiels 2-2 Hawick).

Not far from Gala, my old mate John Watson II messages me. He's only got the new GBG hasn't he? I had an inkling today might be the day! He assumes I'm getting inundated with messages about it 'dropping' all over the land, but he is first, so in a move reminiscent of 'Childer Thornton 2016', it is John I entrust with sending me the Borders pages.

Further drama as his son George temporarily runs off with the book .... and in all the mayhem, I miss my Galashiels stop, but not to worry, Tweedbank made more sense anyway as my bus was going that way.

It is a grey and rainy (you're so predictable, Borders) as I wait 25 mins for the Kelso bus to arrive and three other kind dudes offer to send me GBG pages, so I'm able to get a look at Edinburgh too in case there's anything new close to the centre.

Kelso's trio is unchanged from 2025, so it is 'business as usual'. Let's commence ......

Fruit van? Scotland? Dole? The stereotypical jokes write themselves I step up to Cobbles, Kelso (3352 / 5838). 'Freehouse & Dining'. A huge empty dining room to the left and an intimate (cosy? poky?) dark woody pubbier effort to the right. Despite the early hour, only one table remains available, seems I'm not the only one after an 11am pint. The beer is called 'Cresta', but rather than 'what the fuck was I drinking?' (a nod to John's favourite band Half Man Half Biscuit - which seemed apt seeing as he sorta helped me get here) it was a sensational stout from Tempest who's Tap I went to in Tweedbank. Not the clever pre-emptive I thought as it hasn't made the new GBG. Anyway, good vintage shit lemonade chat with the landlady, who really displays freehouse hospitality. As an elderly lady hums along to Everlong by Foo Fighters whilst crosswording, I'm buzzin' to get my (technically) first 2026 GBG pub under my belt. Not sure how 'feel good' the reading material was though .....

What I loved about Kelso was that all three ticks were about a 2cm walk from each other ......

The sun temporarily reappears to welcome me in to the exciting building which houses 1905, Kelso (3353 / 5839), surely a nod to the year of Hull City's first league season and also the year that Birmingham banned rifles from pubs. And for more historic pub trivia like that ..... well probably you're best off reading a better pub blog than mine. Chris Dyson for example. But hang on, I'm sure someone tried to shoot me through a hatch in Villa's Barton Arms in 2011? Not sure the portly regulars fully appreciate me enthusing over the surroundings, but at least the barmaid gives me an "och, we are certainly unique, aye!" She later Brasso'd all surfaces furiously, perhaps inspired by my kind words. Dream lacings on my scintillating Orkney Island Life, which would do just as well for me in the even more beautiful Lismore in Partick a month later. 74.5% of the GBG complete. I was determined to enjoy that stat before the great leap backwards!

Pissing down again, so back around the corner to the pub closest to the bus stop by 2cm .....

Scotland's first micropub, I believe father. Welcome to Rutherfords, Kelso (3354 / 5840) and bloody 'ell, it is like a morgue for the first ten minutes. Don't get me wrong, the main man is made of the right stuff, he just ain't a yapper. "I'll try not to disappoint!" he tells me when I explain why I'm here. The drinkers to my left and right are even less yappy, despite our close proximity. Strangers body warmth 8/10. But ain't it amazing what effect a giant stuffed owl and a beat-up old Beer Guide can have on folk? With a beautiful Jarl proving the 4th consecutive well above avg pint (a new BRAPA Scottish record), a Hawick bloke drinking Paulaner waiting for his Mum's hospital appointment to conclude turns to me for a nice chat - the pages John sent me have proved what I feared, that walking past Hoyk's Queen's Head a month back was a mistake. Still, the Borders 'churn' didn't look bad. 'Maybe kind churn will be indicative of the whole book this year?' I mused, with a doomed futility hanging over me. Still, cheer up chicken, Kelso complete and it had been good.

Bus time. Melrose. Not quite as far as Tweedbank / Galashiels, less stress on my rubbish tiny bladder.

My original fourth pub, Ancrum Cross Keys had been dropped for the 2026 season so that was one less awkward place to worry about today (though no doubt it'll return to haunt me in 2027). Melrose now had three ticks instead of two.

Just one more pub in this part because it is already 9pm and I want to catch up on Celebrity Traitors and have a cheese n mushroom omelette before bed ......

Despite the grey haired rucksacker getting off the bus in front of me and then moving at 0.5 mph, which always happens when you need a wee, I manage to shake off the shackles and I'm in long standing GBG entry and family run Burt's Hotel, Melrose (3355 / 5841). Impressive, you could say luxurious, yer archetypal Scottish GBG hotel entry done to a very high standard, oh and charging a premium on ale for being a hotel. "Only £6!" she chirps a bit too happily. Game Bird. That's the beer name, a FIFTH good cask ale, look this getting silly now. Sir Quinno didn't believe me, and I don't expect you to either. I sit at the far end of the room, and find the chatter of the fluffy elderly ladies who lunch surprisingly entertaining. One knows a bloke who had a leg amputated due a tropical insect bite on a canoe. Panama via Seaton Carew? And one has a nephew rapper in North London called 'Cosmo'. They agree rap music is a bit too 'wordy' for their liking.

More from Melrose, plus some Peebles, Innerleithen and Edinburgh newbies in part two. I'll have to write about eight pubs, maybe I can make it brief (maybe).

See you Wednesday for that!

Si