BRAPA in .... MY LINCOLNSHIRE TICKING IS IN TATTERS(HALL) : The Cruel Churn Strikes Again
Saturday 12th October 2024
Every year you do this to me Lincolnshire, every blinking year!
One of the most churnable counties in the entire Good Beer Guide. Pretty much all of last year's random outer Grantham newbies have already been ditched for a new batch.
Two theories. (A) Lincs has such a strong suit of pubs, it doesn't have the allocation to put them all in every year so showcases the talent as best it can. Or (B) Lincs has no idea what its best ale pubs are because the quality isn't consistent and it is therefore obliged to rotate its entries like billy-o.
Vote now!
But where there's a will there's a way. 'The will' in this case is 'The Bernard' (Daddy BRAPA) and with Marvin Melon making a rare appearance before injury ultimately ruled him out, if was off down the A1/M1/A15 once more on a damp grey morn. Choo flippin' choo.
A first appearance since 2002 for Leagate Inn, Coningsby (2760 / 5245) - our potential super early opener but we never tested this theory because we arrive at noon, figuring it never pays to be too early into Lincs cos they'll always pick something that won't open til late. This proves a better experience than we'd anticipated. 'Humanity' was the surprise buzz word. A chipper young beer-puller gets me on the Vocation - a rarity for Lincs where anything beyond Doom Bar, Landlord, Bateman's or some obscure local slop, has to be approached with caution. To be honest, this wasn't great Vocation. BUT he tells us the pub has not one, but TWO roaring fires. A couple in front of #FireOne tell me "we're not moving from this spot, haha, sorry!" as I eye it up with my lens. But it is all in good fun. We locate #FireTwo in this sprawling old inn , and Shazam tells me the song I'm listening to is "Working in the Coal Mine". Apt I tell you, apt. Staff pop over to say hi again in case we'd forgotten they care, and then our 'non-moving fire couple' wander through to have their lunch at a more upright table. Something to do with diaphragms probably. Their previous comment didn't age well did it?
Lovely couple but weak fire staying power
Our second tick was today's shortest drive, also slap bang in mid Lincs in prime RAF / Second World War / 'why would anyone want public transport around here?', kinda territory
Only 2018 since Blue Bell Inn, Tattershall Thorpe (2761 / 5246) last appeared in a GBG, though a better pub man than me (his name is Jim) will tell you seven fewer entries than Coningsby overall. Initial impressions are 'a bit pubbier, nice!' but the smaller rooms are chock full of diners, some with twilds, so positive vibes are soon consigned to the history bin. It is a good pint of Blood Hound, Greene King's surprise chocolate orange delight which is a better alternative than Hobgoblin for your spooky beer of the season. Marginally more orangey here than in Ealing's Sir Michael Balcon. Parents + barmaid soon perch a little too close to our table to show a bored small boy the beams above us, skilfully inscribed with WW2 scribblings / artwork. Probably by some enterprising 1980's publican. Poor lad, you could tell he just wants to get back to Super Mario Kart on the PS3 or whatever kids are into these days. God I'm old. And when he admits he's never seen Star Wars, jeers of derision abound. Deserved perhaps, but at least when he becomes part the next generation of pub ticker, the non-drinker, he can chalk this off.
Room we should've sat in? (but filled up with diners anyway)
It was time to drive to more northerly Lincs climes perching on the I Luv Axholme peninsula. Wave to our ole' mate Rob. The land is flat, he might see us.
The way we've been approaching these Leics-Notts-Lincs car days this past year is not to do a batch altogether, but to treat pubs as 'stepping stones' towards home - a couple south, couple mid range, couple closer to home. So this is (sort of) what we were doing today.
We're fairly impressed with the Crown, Glentham (2762 / 5247) from the get-go. Fake Amy Garcia (FAG) is such a splendid host, plus the allure of pool table, carpet (albeit a dreadful one) and a pumpkin sitting on the hearth of a glowing wood burner , these are the things that truly matter. Beer? Ok, for you purists was Milestone, tasted well kept but it is bland and watery, as is so often the case when I delve into Milestone. New World Pale? Really? Old World Fail more like. Adverts for a forthcoming Hallowe'en disco are everywhere, and to get us in the 'spirit' (thanks), it is the ONLY genre of music the pub plays during this interesting half hour. Death to disco. The GBG description makes reference to 'pork scratchings cooking on the bar' but I think they were struggling for stuff to say because it is just one of those machines you see in about 50% of pubs nowadays Still, all in all a decent performance from this GBG debutant.
Ever so slightly north, we drop upon our fourth tick.
This lumbering coaching inn certainly looked the part in the watery sun, but Red Lion, Redbourne (2763 / 5248) we both agree is today's weakest entry. Appearing for the first time since 2006, and only a third appearance in total (thanks Jim), you could see why. Lukewarm welcome, slow beginnings, the Knowle Spring goes off, then she points us in the direction of an exact seat in a busy part of the pub next to a very long dog. Not having that. "I'll sit where I want, I'll sit where I waaaant, I am BRAPA, I'll sit where I want" I nearly chat, politely enquiring if we could sit through the cubby hole at the opposite corner. She agrees. I later see her on her break, eating a meal at the table closest us, so I think she was just ensuring we didn't grab her spot / invade her meal time! The Boltmaker was decent, but it drank better in Brixton the previous week. LocAle at its finest! Do people still talk about that? All the rage a few years back how many miles your beer had travelled. Daddy B. plays a blinder with an impromptu Piper's crisp round. LocCrisp, and this time I mean it! Finest Lincolnshire export since Ambrose Langley. The Gents tiled floor beats the living daylights out of every pub carpet we'd witnessed today, but yeah, meh, classic Lincs fly-by-night entry.
Don't look behind you Marv!
Our next stop took us right to the tip of NW Lincs perilously close to those mean South and East Yorkshire borderlands. Fifth pint lightweight expression incoming ......
But if you are going to be Not Sensible in one pub today, the River Don Tavern, Eastoft (2764 / 5249) is the one it'd be positively encouraged. As my Derby mate Steve would say, this pub represented a 'tonal shift' from the four which had gone before. Not unlike its more recent GBG neighbours at Burton on Stather & East Butterwick, but fractionally less 'howl at the moon' than both. Proudly displaying CAMRA awards from days gone by, the majestic guv'nor recognises 'visitors' when he sees them (the locals looked like they'd been dredged out of the river near Goole .... in the best possible way) and is soon over chatting GBG and asking if we are enjoying F&L Milk Stout, which he brings back himself from his jaunts up to Northumberland. Top man. Easily beer of the day. The carpet had immense shag, I almost sunk like quicksand when I went to find the loo. I'd expect nothing less from a pub that has appeared in the GBG as recently as both 2020 and 2021.
Today was building toward the climactic sixth pub, or club in this case as we wend our way west into South Yorkshire on the road between Donny and Barnsley. York almost within pissing distance.
This was my one remaining rock hard S. Yorks tick, and with the mean opening hours it has, not to mention the fact it doesn't even come up on Google Maps, it was sheer luck we parked right outside.
The gate had a latch that took us an age to fathom, but the locals obviously know the drill cos the gaff were blimmin' heaving .....
... but still excellent, rivalling the River Don for tick of the day, first GBG appearance since 2011 so I'm guessing it's either had a recent real aley zhush up, or no bugger from the local CAMRA branch knew it existed or could get in! Hickleton Village Club, Hickleton (2765 / 5250) was on fire this evening (not literally) and not a seat in the house with the bingo in full swing, fun for all the family. "Extra legs 13", "shut the pub gate 28", "75 - Twiggy's age", yes the calls were unique. We had to sit at the bar, where the Bradfield Pumpkin & continental coffee were drinking v.well. It was no surprise when the two lovely ladies behind the bar roped us into the next game. Dad pulled another snack blinder and bought us two chocolate bars out of a wicker basket to keep our strength up from the game ahead. That reminded me, I'd brought him a Yorkie back from Sutton, so delve into my bag to give him a well deserved bonus treat. Bingo goes well, almost too well, and I only had TWO numbers left when the winner announces themselves. Relief actually, it would've been awkward as a one time visitor swooping down to steal the local's thunder, but it would've been a very 'BRAPA' 'appening. With bingo finally over, our man on the mic announces "next on the agenda is .... whether to keep Madri on, or replace it with Cruzcampo. YOU DECIDE!" Like Davina McCall in Big Brother's Channel 4 prime.
So, in summary - a day which started slowly but really built a head of steam towards the end. Thank you Daddy B. , the BRAPA Person of the Year award is surely in the bag, despite some chauffeuring rivals in 2024.
As for Lincs, still 20 glorious pubs to visit but that's one for 2025. Yes, when those first springtime bunnies leap into daffodiltastic bloom , I'll look to get the remainder mopped up.
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