BRAPA is ..... THE KING OF WISHFUL HINCKING (Leics 2/2)
Hinckley! At last. Once described as 'the most rewarding of all Leicestershire towns to pub tick' by a bloke who knows, he completed the damn thing.
Of course, it started peeing it down the second I left the Lime Kilns and undertook that winding 30 minute walk onto Hinckley town centre for my first of three pubs:
I reckon if you are 'on the inside looking out', like the merry nasal accented locals who I pass on my way to the bar, Pestle & Mortar, Hinckley (2482 / 4376) is quite a special place to be. Perhaps your favourite place on earth. The landlady is one of those 'no holds barred', 'takes no prisoners', 'doesn't suffer fools gladly' types who was BORN to be a publican. I reckon that even before the umbilical cord was cut, the doctor says 'future pub landlady?' and she removes her dummy just long enough to gurgle "born ready". Why she'd have a dummy in at the moment she left the womb, I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, she's got no sympathy for my sodden sob story - she'd walked TWICE as far herself this morning, and the rain was TWICE as bad. And on seeing two different Bass pump clips, my joke about 'two flavours of Bass' falls equally flat. The letter & number beer ordering system confuses me, like 1960's football programmes / pitchside hoardings. I'll have an N13 Workington v Newport County. But who am I kidding, I was always gonna go Bass. After that, I sit on a low settee, listening intently with a wistful smile as men with the voices of Mark Selby and the faces of Richard III get laughed with/at, there is one further visitor with a dog, and to my relief, he takes a back seat too. Nice to not be alone. On the way out, the blokes all wish me a chirpy goodbye, which is slightly heartening.
Next I trot around the corner, where this next pub, not a GBG regular incidentally, can be found ......
1993 in fact since the last time Greyhound, Hinckley (2483 / 4377) appeared in a GBG, and on first viewing, I was quite frankly astonished. Beautiful tiled central corridor, rooms off in all directions, the green room that I was eyeing up looked particularly inviting, so I grab a pint of their local 'New Buildings' ale and wander through. Every photo I take shows the pub in the best possible light, Twitter is soon purring with comments about what a 'must visit' this looks. But here's the thing. It didn't actually FEEL like a good pub! Incredible as it sounds I know, but I've said it before and I'll say it again, you cannot tell a good pub simply by looking at photos. You have to be in there. Smelling, breathing, listening. You've heard of horse whisperers, maybe even ghost whisperers, well meet a pub whisperer! One bored staff member, a broken card machine, zero customers, a pretty dull pint of the homebrew (explaining the absence since '93 perhaps) certainly didn't help, but even so, the pub still felt incredibly gloomy, a bit unloved. An interesting one.
Time for the last one, and at this point I was wondering if all these Hinckley rave reviews were really justified. I had to loiter outside for this one, with an army of hi-vis lads (not Eddie Fogden), sleepy blokes in baggy jeans, Mum's needing post-school run refreshment, and a couple of old crones, all patiently waiting for the unusual 16:45 opening time to tick around .....
I think it was that nice Mr Guinness who said 'good things come to those who can be arsed to hang about' and that was certainly true of the New Plough Inn, Hinckley (2484 / 4378), certainly my pub of the day. The popularity was justified. Luckily, a snaking island bar creeping around the corner allows the perky staff to deal with the influx of early custom. Note none of these locals had been waiting at the Greyhound close by. The quality on that Byatt's Platinum Blonde is a dream, a bit lemony but never going the full 'hands that do dishes feel as soft as yer face' if you know what I mean. And the room with the curved red bench seating not only looked a dream, but felt it too. And herein lies the difference I was talking about. Full of vim and vigour. Spunky, as we say in 1980's Australia. You can't teach that, you've either got it or you haven't!
Thank you as always for reading. I will endeavour to be back tomorrow to tell you, in the first of two parts, about Kent at its most beautiful, as Daddy BRAPA gets a rare chance to be la chauffee.
When I consider my trip to the Greyhound this year I remember it was the landlady and her lovely schoolboy son that won me over here. And the Pedigree and faggots.
Packed too, great eavesdropping.
It does make a huge difference if you get the cheery landlady or grumpy landlord (not that I thought he was).
Oddly, I do recall the Pestle & Morter being harder to live, a bit "clicky" as Mumsnet would have it
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Si Everitt
Jun 12, 2023
Replying to
Genuinely glad you had a good experience here, I’d never have believed it possible despite the stunning interior.
My first mistake going homebrew over a reliable Pedi. And perhaps time of day was my main issue.
Empty pubs can be depressing. Unless you’ve been chatted to relentlessly in the previous ones!
Funny it’s been out of GBG so long though isn’t it? Maybe been closed or only just got handpumps?
When I consider my trip to the Greyhound this year I remember it was the landlady and her lovely schoolboy son that won me over here. And the Pedigree and faggots.
Packed too, great eavesdropping.
It does make a huge difference if you get the cheery landlady or grumpy landlord (not that I thought he was).
Oddly, I do recall the Pestle & Morter being harder to live, a bit "clicky" as Mumsnet would have it