BRAPA is .... SPANKING LANCS (Mostly Shiet on the Western 'front) : Pt. 1/2

Saturday 9th May 2026

Blackpool Winter Gardens minus the drunk punks slumped in the streets with their 2 litre bottles of cider always looks a bit naked to me, but it felt a necessary pilgrimage and Daddy BRAPA humoured me.

Besdies, we had to wait until noon for our first pub to open so no point taking the northerly 'Fleetwood Fairy' tram just yet.

I was still recovering from that long old week in Aberdeen, so I'm happy to make today a gentle four-ticker.

I did have one additonal required tick to the south (Fairhaven at Ansdell) which opens early, but I CBA'd with that, telling it "Get yourself in the 2027 GBG too, and then I'll take you seriously!" After all, 2027 will no doubt see the usual slew of grey micropubs with boring names. When it comes to Lancs, I'm finding you have to keep it east of Blackburn to find any colour these days.

It was a rare outing for Kale Joseph, and our journey across t' Pennines centred on the previous night's 0-0 home draw with Millwall in the first leg of the playoff semi final.

The general feeling is that we'll get turned over at the Den in 48 hours ("We'll create a wall of noise and your boys will cramble, ya fackin' norvern mugs" they claimed on X). Then we could cancel all this Wembley nonsense and crack on with a Surrey based BRAPA day on 23rd May. There's a few murmurings about Southampton 'spying' but we didn't really understand what it really meant.

Tram time, and as we pass a hotel he recognises, Daddy BRAPA tells a colourful tale of 'bank inspections past' about a bloke with a car full of cigarette smoke and a pair of spectacles removed by a stripper that ending up in an interesting place!

After that tale, I needed a pint. 11:55am, but Dad decides giving the door a try early won't do any harm ....

And he's in! Wot a lad. Had I been alone, I'd have been wandering up and down the street for five mins like a fackin' norvern mug (well 'mag' but that makes me sound like a Newcastle fan and no-one wants that). Cask, Bispham (3445 / 6235) is a micropub to cheer the heart, warm the cockles etc etc. It doesn't look much, but it does the simples things to perfection, and as our day would progress, we'd be even more grateful to the quality on show here. A great guy in charge, welcoming, chatty but not too in yer face. Has that Hawkstone lager on. Jezza has gone up in his estimations since Clarkson's Farm. He looks like three Hull City fans we know blended into one West Lancs hero. Top quality Roosters, but with the sun out, Daddy Hipster has only got eyes for the keg fonts and enjoys a Beartown which is 'crushable' whatever the fuck that means. Beer people, there must be a register they can be put on. It had been fun, today wouldn't get any better. Thankfully we didn't know this at the time.

B52's b-side?

Angsty fluffy vegetable, pictured here with Kale Joseph

We continue our journey north to the hairy knuckled, string vest-wearing, hand-me-down toothbrush 'burb of Cleveleys where I've ticked plenty of pubs down the years but CAMRA have still managed to find two more cos they hate BRAPA.

Whatever happened to BlackpoolJane? Met her a few times. Lovely lady. All over social media like a pissing puppy back in the day, and then just 'poof' seems to have vanished. Anyway, hope she's happy and well wherever she is.

It was like Wobblinn, Cleveleys (3446 / 6236) had been teleported here from the Black Country. A wheezy old bird finishes her cigarette, says 'yow' and 'bab' and 'cob', and follows us inside where surprising beers like Batham's Bitter and Sarah Hughes Dark Ruby can be found. After five seconds of careful deliberation, I choose the latter. Mainly so I can say "never mind Wobblinn, I'll WobbleOut after this!" It got a good laugh from both Dad and our host, although my decision to repeat the joke on the way out was a step too cringe. We tried sitting outside on the 3G pitch, but it is very hot, Dad's forgotten his hat, so we go inside, which was beerily decorated but lacked a 'joined up feel'. It was ok, but Cask Bispham a superior drinking space. Wall-to-wall motown was the music, cheap n cheesy. It'd prove today's second strongest pub.

Staying in Cleveleys, but slightly nearer to the tram stop we find pub three .....

Looked a bit of a toilet, cannot lie, in fact the toilets (buckets to pee in) were the highlight of Backstage, Cleveleys (3447 / 6237). "He didn't have to look so flippin' pleased about it!" chunters Daddy BRAPA, still on his quest for hazy keg. He'd asked the barman, Smug John Lennon (SJL) if they'd had any and he'd taken delight in telling Bernard 'No!' One of those annoying pubs that have about 20 taps, but when you look carefully, not a lot of choice. I only had eyes for the Cadbury's Creme Egg cask stout but I think the brewers had taken it too literally because for every sip of sweet chocolate fondant, the next is full on egg! A bit dingy and lacking any sort of comfort, hygiene or wholesomeness indoors, we go outside (the sun has since disappeared behind a grey cloud) to smuggle our Gala pies. It was top smuggling and a two's up to SJL.

Cleveleys, it had been underwhelming as always. But it could've been worse, and our gradual downward spiral of pub quality concludes in our final pub ......

I find it harder to forgive extreme shitness in a micropub than in a larger chain pub because as we saw earlier in Bispham, they only need to get three things right - a friendly welcome, well kept beer & salubrious setting to enjoy your pint. 'Pints, Pubs & People' as CAMRA would say. Beer Shed, Fleetwood (3448 / 6238) failed us in every way. Mr Bald (+ wife) in the front window seat make a jokey comment about my weird pose, but that's where the humanity ends and the humidity begins. Barmaid gives us nothing despite going in with a bright, sunny demeanour. The Reedley Hallows NZ pale is grim six-fingered dross. Worst of all is the layout / seating. The main area is a mess of buttock shredding stools. The one area of any comfort is so-closed off from the pub, it is like being in a wood chip coffin. I've been in a lot of avg. micros and some very good ones but this was dire dire dire. Felt half finished. I understand with fewer overheads etc. it must be an attractive proposition to open a micro, but gosh damn it, give me something .... anything!

So, to paraphrase Will from Inbetweeners 'that was flippin' dreadful' but on the plus side, back in Blackpool on a train approx 4pm with coffee and cake must make it the earliest BRAPA finish in living memory!

The train clientele was Mummies and twilds rather than the usual Madri drinking football scum, so that's when you know you're working in a different time frame.

The early finish was welcome because we had a busy 48 hours coming up. Everitt Family Birthday Barbecue, epic dentist trip and the second leg of Hull City's afore mentioned playoff at the Den.

Back in York, there was time for a trip to Volunteer Arms which was in imperious form with an Irish Oatmeal Stout drinking well and we declared it our York pub of the moment. Sadly it was rubbish this Saturday just gone, but normally, I'd call it York's most hidden gem ....

The following Saturday we'd be back in Lancs. I could only hope the general quality would be better!

Join me tomorrow for that, or my June month end review depending which way the wind is blowing, if it blows at all.

Keep it pub, Si