BRAPA is .... SECRET TICKING UNDER EMBARGO / NANTWICH IS ON A GO SLOW (Part 1 of 2)

Seven tick blog, sorry it is a bit of an epic, but I need to catch up.

Monday 16th September 2024

The only way to break the shackles of a #CruelChurn was to get straight back on it. Monday night after work ad-hoc ticking. Almost unprecedented, but a sure sign of how rattled it had got me!

Brown Cow, Bingley

Just over the river, and it might be the Yorkshire in me, but there's always something heart warming about entering a pub and seeing the full Tim Taylor complement. The young lads working here are switched on, polite, but their smiles were a bit smirky, like someone had farted and not told me. Like many Tim Taylor pubs though, it is a bit too smart for its own good - softer edges, nicer furniture, a carpet would all help. Having said that, it had a background West Yorkshire burr, and you sensed a hi-vis bloke with a ferret down his trousers could walk in at any moment. The Dark Mild is a dream - my first tick after my Scottish holiday, I no longer take beer quality for granted. Rarely has wielding the green highlighter pen felt more satisfying. With the music of Dasha reminding me there is more to life than the Ramones, it is time to cross the road and catch the bus. Surprised this pub hasn't featured in a GBG since BRAPA has existed, if ever.

I say 'crossing the road', it was more 'playing chicken at rush hour on a hairpin bend' but I made it alive. Bus driver is so impatient, he nearly fails to stop, then hurtles up to Riddlesden on roads not designed for speed, 'enjoying' the company of some Jeremy Kylers. I was TIRED after my cross-ticking weekend, I wanted a gentler intro to 2025 pub ticking than this!

Applegarth Club, Riddlesden

'CLUB OF THE YEAR' it screams and I could see why, a real cosy touch of class though it came up on Google as the 'Riddlesden & Morton United Services Club Ltd' just to unnerve me regarding whether I'd actually come to the right venue. Talking of unnerving, there's a bloke at the bar chuckling away at a video on his phone, so I comment 'looks fun!' "Oh sorry mate, laughing at a video, not you, honest!" and I'd not considered the prospect UNTIL HE BLOODY SAID THAT! I pretend to jokingly peak at his phone, but this doesn't go down well and he rushes to the far side of the room. Midget clown porn probably. A gloomy child is drinking a blackcurrant Fruit Shoot on a leather sofa but I have better bantz with barmaid as phone signal won't let me pay by card so cash it is. The beer, oh the beer, if I thought the Timmy T's Dark Mild was good, well this Harlow Blonde was about as immaculate pale as you could find. And beers of this style rarely excite me these days cos 'saturation'. Super reassuring when it is immediately apparent exactly why these new entrants have made the Guide.

The bus route around and out of Riddlesden is the biggest riddle of the lot, and I can only be glad some bald spectre is waiting with me or I'd have been paranoid I was stood in the wrong place.

But fear not, I was soon back in Bingley for my final tick of the night .....

Myrtle Grove, Bingley

Yet more paranoia due to over-tiredness but I swear this barmaid is looking at me like I'm the most distasteful specimen on earth, though the mood oddly brightens when she rejects my Mudgie voucher on the basis that their beer is discounted enough on a Monday! I'm about to have strop when she points out I'm saving 64p instead of 50p. On a Wobbly Bob too, £1.99 for an all time 6% classic which was in superb condition here. Living the dream. With a quirky 8/10 carpet, elderly folk ordering curry like its going out of fashion, and a bunch of fruit machine area painter decorators talking boobs and L**ds Utd (insert joke here), I thought this was a strong Spoons and again I'm surprised not to have seen it in a GBG these past 10 years. In fact, if there is one action I could take onboard to alleviate tough GBG churns it'd been to visit any Spoons I see, or #BMLF (Be More Leon Foster) as it is known. As I cross-ticked, I spot several missed opportunities. No problem here in Bingley, as I needed the Brown Cow anyway, but when, like Abergavenny, you even popped in for a wee and didn't even order a half, well just plain silly on my part, so don't have too much sympathy with my #CruelChurn

Monday had been such a success, I decided to do it all over again the following night. Definitely rattled!

On the train, a lady next to me sees my GBG and says "oooh, that looks more interesting reading than mine" though to be fair, she is reading an online software user manual. I slam my book shut and tell her to respect the embargo (well, not really but I wanted to).

In fact, on the previous night, an elderly gent had sat next to me on the train and made a similar comment. Can't recall this happening much in 2024, and here we were, not even out of embargo period and it has happened twice. I guess the Emmerdale Woolpack cover is more likely to yield pubby comments. Maybe everyone in 2023/24 simply thought I was reading an Iron Maiden biography?!

I feel like a walking corpse as I head out north of Wakefield on foot which at least helped me fit in with the locals ..... only joking, I LOVE Wakey.

There were buses up here but by the time you've found the stop and waited, you'd be there anyway. Plus part of the walk was green, leafy and rather picturesque, sunny evening, feel better already.

New Wheel Inn, Wrenthorpe

A needlessly grey interior but nothing grey about the folk or the general atmosphere, exactly what I'd expect from this part of Yorkshire - balls to the wall, look you in eye, down to earth cheerfulness. Everyone who lives in a Norfolk village should be legally required to spend one week a year of their lives in the suburbs of Wakefield. For the sake of humanity. "£20 card minimum" jokes the slightly terrifying but brilliant guv'nor. I'm not fooled and chuckle banterishly in the strongest W. Yorkshire accent I can muster. Aston Villa's European 'adventure' is about to get underway, so one of their fans is losing all his money on the fruit machine in preparation. He then scuttles behind a sofa, presumably looking for a half eaten cheese & onion cob, or whatever Midlands folk do when let out into the wild. Despite Dave Grohl's recent cancellation, the Monkey Wrench is drinking well, an ancient Judy Murray scowls at me close up, whilst a Westie licks the 6/10 carpet. Good pub.

Mallard, Moorthorpe

The same could not be said for this station side drab hole, and I think part of the problem is that the genre of train station pubs is such a strong one, expectations get inflated. Stalybridge, Dewsbury, purr purr. Even York Tap can be pretty awesome as long as you bring your own bucket of disinfectant, and I've been known to enjoy Sheffield Tap once a decade. Mallard Worksop another one I like a lot, oh Donny Draughtsman, touch of class. Can we count Parcel Yard? Plleeeeassse? I'm missing plenty I know. But despite a 10/10 pint of Jolly Boys' porter, it was a horrid hybrid of incredibly dull, airy, uncomfy and awkward. Whilst it was life giving to see such a young bunch of punters bar blocking, chewing the fat and using pubs in the way nature intended, it was a bit odd too. The oldest looking lass, probably 23, rosy cheeks, a proper lush, we'll call her "Granny", bemoans her inability to down a bottle of Sambuca in one sitting like she used to in the olden days (2019). There's a couple of other random loser blokes like me dotted about, smiling, desperate to make any kind of connection. Human or train. Ah yes, Jolly Boys', one of the most boring 80 mins of my life was spent in their Wakefield Town Centre gaff, no shock when it closed down, no one came in, and it was similar levels of comfort and decor. If they put the same care into pub creation as they do into brewing their porter, this place could be special.

When I left the Mallard, I was up for a risky triple change to Glasshoughton but when I saw 'leg 1' was going through to L**ds, I stayed on and got myself home to York early. I'd hit a pub ticking wall.

Partly because I had York Beer Festival the following evening, as my burning the candle at both ends burns on. It was my first time at the new church venue and I loved it.

You got a proper glass, beer quality better than it ever was at the racecourse and once my friend arrived and I had some scran in an indoor area away from the main hall where most people congregated, I enjoyed it lots.

Got recognised by a few people too - shout out to Rainhill lad and mate, Broughty Ferry Adam on hols in Scarb, and Huddersfield Grove guy, plus anyone I forgot in my drunkenness. Tried an A-Z of beer names, only got up to N (plus a cider) and stayed in bed most of Thursday which I think was wise!

Fast forward to Saturday, we'll do two pubs before I say goodnight, and I was off to Cheshire.

Mission to fully green it for the first time since 2018 so plenty of gaps had opened up. My newbie in Nantwich first ,,,,

Wickstead Arms, Nantwich

"Hiiiii" "Hello!" "Welcome!" It was quite the reintroduction back into Cheshire ticking from these gorgeous staff doing a passable impression of CBeebies presenters, one was even wrestling a wobbleboard. Rolf's Cartoon Club? Let's not go there. The carpet a mind bending 3D puzzle of an 8/10, and Salopian Oracle, a beer I'd once put in my top ten but more recently a bit boring, was back at its 2017 BRAPA peak here. A bunch o' ladz soon arrive, explaining the pros and cons of each ale like true beer bores. The lack of phone signal is starting to get on my nerves. No WiFi? I'd already decided to sit outside for better coverage but at that exact moment, a Mummy, Daddy and child sit next to me. "I'm not leaving because of you" I protest, worried I'm looking rude. "I wouldn't blame you if you were!" replies the beleaguered Daddy. I like him. Bet he wishes he was a pub ticker. No signal outdoors either, what's going on? I ask the staff. "Everyone's saying it this morning!" replies barmaid. "Cashpoints all down to town too!" says an old barfly, so I go proper old skool and ask them to direct me to the bus station.

I ask two more people - a woman selling shit brownies (not literally, I think they were your regular chocolate) on a market stall and a blue rinsed gal in a shower cap to clarify directions, but what I actually had wanted to do was order a taxi to take me to the recently bus-less town of Audlem. You know I like my alphabetical ticking and this was my last "A". This was my Bunbury back-up.

But at that moment, someone underground presses a big red 'ON' switch and 'boom' , the reception is back! I'm peeing in an old fashioned indoor market at the time and the relief was palpable.

Uber is swiftly upon me. Bus station no longer needed. Faiz, what a positive chatterbox. Multi-lingual, recounts tales of how his positive mental outlook has diffused hostile taxi experiences.

But I'm only bothered about whether he'll hang around for me, knowing how hard Audlem is to get out of. First he expresses doubt, but relents when we park up. "I'm due a break, so he'll switch off ALL my devices, go to the shops, have a look at the canal." "So meet me back in 25?" I clarify. "Yep, errm, yep probably, yes" he replies. I nearly invite him to join me for a J20 so I can keep an eye on him.....

Shroppie Fly, Audlem

Not the pub - this isn't Grimsby or Peterborough

Every BRAPA day needs a hero, and when the barmaid asks how my day is going, I sense she genuinely means it, and I start spouting on the Nantwich signal outage and Uber uncertainty. "Seems mad to me Audlem has zero buses!" I whine, and she tells me to download the Go-Too App, £3 for anywhere in the area and apparently this guy turns up in a sort of minibus. I tell her I'm SURE Uber man will be waiting but thanks if not. My Salopian run continues, another standard not quite as good as Oracle (not Lemon Dream though, never once enjoyed that bollocks). Now, Shropshire/Cheshire border canal pub, I'd been fearing some chaotic poky doggy foodie mess, but what a nicely done serene spacious boozer, flagstone floors, bar a wood carved canal boat, funky wallpaper, perhaps in hindsight my favourite Cheshire pub in 2025 GBG so far (I've done eight at the time of writing). I sup up quick though, due to my Uber paranoia......

And when I return to the carpark, Uber had gone! Imagine my surprise(!)

At least I had a plan B, and signal, as I sit on a wall and download this App. Fingers crossed.

Join me on Friday for more tales of that, in part 2 of my secret tick-a-thon.

Si