BRAPA in .... NO REST(ER) IN MY QUEST(ER) TO TICK LEICESTER

One of my biggest fails of the 2022/23 ticking season was my quest to make serious progress towards Leicestershire completion. I negotiated Loughborough / Charnwood nicely, but since then, it has stalled. Partly because not much opens before 4pm/5pm on a Thursday! More of a Saturday area I've since decided.

And when Leicester City were relegated into my beloved Hull City's division, andthe fixture list decreed that we'd be playing them away early on (i.e. BEFORE the 2024 GBG even came out), I decided to hold over my Thirsty Thursday Leicester ticks so I could combine some with the match.

Train strike day once more (when will it end?), so Daddy BRAPA, who had been in the wars in the run up to this one, passes a late fitness test to kindly drive us down, with scones, cheese and coffee to line our stomachs.

We park on the outskirts of town, ready for the first of my 61 September ticks .....

Quirkier than it appears on first glance, I'm now a confirmed lifelong fan of the friendly, bright and breezy Old Horse, Leicester (2639 / 4534). It has a suit of armour wearing a scarf, broomstick, tiger head, and a coffin for the heaven's sake! Not the ideal omen for Hull City's chances. Speaking of which, there's only one beer I was going to order in this Everard's pub. "Ey oop. Gotta go for the Tiger!" booms a voice behind me, a stray Hull City half kit wanker roaming the floor space. His wife is on the coffee but keeps disappearing, possibly trying to escape, he keeps phoning imaginary friends in the hope of getting a little imaginary pre-match gang together. We don't recognise him. Probably a L**ds fan in the 90's. A fine 19th century coaching inn this, 11am opener for the bonus point, but we couldn't afford to linger if I was to get plenty more ticks in before 3pm.

Time for the 20 minute walk into the city centre, which offered me a perspective of Leicester which I'd not witnessed before (i.e. fairly attractive!) along something called 'New Walk'. I nearly get distracted by a punk art exhibition (the final day) at the museum/art gallery but this ain't BlackpoolJane, this is boring one dimensional BRAPA, so I put the pub blinkers on and plough ahead, Dad's bucket hat added a touch of the 'je ne sais quoi', I'm sure you'll agree:

Well, well, well, Blue Boar, Leicester (2640 / 4535) is something a bit special. Straight into the BRAPA end of year pub awards, in my opinion this is the blueprint for all great micropubs. A scintillating pint of porter (Dad similarly raves about his hazy pale), one of those rare occasions where the beer is of such eye-popping quality, rating it anything less than NBSS 4.5 would be a disgrace. With Fife and Tayside on the horizon, I'm enjoying it while I can! Combined with the deepest filled tastiest sausage roll in Christendom, enjoyed against a wall facing a view of 'Late Medieval Leicester' asking of fans (two Leicester, one air conditioning) to shuffle up for us, this was pubbing at its most perfect ... well almost, lack of seat was a shame, but build something this good, the folk will come, and the Foxes were arriving in droves. My back was turned, but Daddy BRAPA was giving me updates every few seconds. Glad we were in earlier, and leaving before it became uncomfortable, because I'd hate for my memory of this modern classic to be at all sullied.

Just a few paces down the same street, we found our third pub tick, and a second micro in quick succession.

Bit of respect for the Two-Tailed Lion, Leicester (2641 / 4536) please, the comparative lack of pub traffic had it feeling a bit of an underdog, but the relief at being able to stretch out and breathe wasn't underestimated! A quality micropub, I appreciate the lad engaging us in a bit of dialogue on the bizarre names they give craft beers. Give me personable staff any day of the week. Like a good pub carpet, elderly cat and roaring fire, it goes a surprisingly long way. The Bristol beer is excellent, and the wooden boxy environs are most relaxing, used to be a Victorian dwelling this place, and yes you can pick up that atmosphere. And had I gone for a wee earlier, I'd have spotted a couple of intriguing upstairs rooms. If I was a Leicester City season ticket holder who didn't do pub ticking, I could see myself going into Blue Boar for two quick ones and when the crowds arrive, retiring here until kick off.

I was in my element here, three cracking pubs. My early football trips to Leicester were invariably miserable, and with the exception of the fabulously miserable Ale Wagon, I never really found a pub I enjoyed until a visit to the King's Head last time, but even that was a rushed post match jobbie.

Could we make it four before kick off?

Bluer than the Blue Boar, Horsier than the Old Horse, growlier than the Lion, the Black Horse, Leicester (2642 / 4537) was perhaps the least convincing of the quartet, but that was in some way due to 'on the day circumstances' as more large groups of Leicester fans had commandeered both front bar and middle room, relegating us to the 'Stairway to Heaven' room at the back, with a mystery door titled 'Dead End'. The loo itself had a sinister flashing red light. It was a bit dark and drippy, a bit like being in an episode of 'Trap Door'. And the only Berk here was me, because three times I forgot what beer I'd ordered and went back to check! Such pub exploration helped me gauge the fan pre-match mood, and for the home fans, it seemed to be a case of 'how many they'd beat us by'! Such over confidence actually raised my own confidence, though I guess the beer was kicking in. This was the one of today's pubs booted from the 2024 GBG, and not to be confused with Leicester's other Black Horse, over in Aylestone, which really is great.

Daddy BRAPA's poorly leg (which he doesn't like to talk about) stands up well to the walk to the Crisp Bowl, in fact, we make such good time, there's even time for a cheeky pre-match Guinness under the stand:

Electric atmosphere in the away end, easily best game I've been to post-Covid, we play brilliantly and win 1-0 although we had plenty of nervy moments hanging on towards the end! And I think I'm right in saying, at the time of writing, over a month later, we're still the only team who's taken points off the Premier League returnee shoo-ins.

Post match pint on the way out of Leicester to celebrate? Why not?

Stamford Arms, Groby (2643 / 4538) should probably have been visited at 11am on a Thursday morning, because we hit it all wrong here. We'd already walked around the side of the pub, having been scared by the cacophony of screeching kiddie voices come from the back garden, to what look like a much pubbier outlook. Barmaid who serves me is cheerful and excellent, the Everard's mild is a decent drop, but it wasn't enough. If it wasn't the Twildery that was gonna get you, it'd be the Twoggery. In our short 25 minutes here, we were scuppered by both. We're quickly invaded by two kids who ask us, or tell us that they plan to plug their electronic devices into a plug next to our ears, then perch on our shoulders like a pair of badly behaved parrots playing some thrilling looking sci-fi game. Where was the parental supervision? We decide to move tables across the pub, it has been a warm dry day but I trip over a wet dog, which later races across, nuzzles Dad with his wet nose, racing off again, making poor DB jump out of his skin. I'm laughing by now, all you can do in the circs, but don't open your mouth too far, because the place smells of a heady concoction of wet dog, child puke, cheese and toddlers nappies. Yuck, yuck and yuck. Worst pub experience in a very long time.

Colin in the calm before the storm

It didn't detract from a flippin' amazing day ..... over to you Tayside and Fife, which I'll start telling you about in a few brief parts. 40 pubs visited there, so I'll do 5x8 which my GCSE maths and banking exams tells me equals 40.

See you tomorrow night, Si