Three pubs to go before I became the first ever person in the world who religiously watches Neighbours and eats fig rolls to complete 60% of the GBG. You'll never sing that. No one will. Ever.
Walking down the hill from rural Heath Charnock, pub four is handily placed on the same road where the buses whizz between Bolton and Chorley. Not that Daddy BRAPA has realised.
"Can't see the pub, just an old post office!" he exclaims. I laugh. Then I realise he wasn't joking.
You can see we had a good chuckle! Old Post Office, Adlington (2698 / 4859) achieves against the odds. It has really GOT something hard to quantify. On the face, deep blue ocean bottom walls is a bizarrely suffocating colour scheme. The Bends. But the 'close' illusion it creates, plus the bar shape which is more akin to a general store (think modern day Star Inn Wenhaston or, less impressively, Smith's in Bourne for you pub aficionados) along with a bunch of motivated locals make it something cosier. Bar dude is a top lad, not just cos he genuinely laughs about my 'Bolton, the only place anyone would ever want a ticket to' quip (you had to hear my quip in real time to get full comic value). Escape is a new brewery on me, I'm loving their stout, beer of the day candidate. And the artwork, plus a cheeky orange beermat I could purloin, is a nice touch. Big John has locked his arse in the gents for a good ten mins, so I'm glad when some jovial cheeky chaps agree with me that using the empty ladies loo is only common sense, after all it is a bit of a sausage fest in here at present. Another brick in the wall of a positive pub day!
At the bus stop, the jovial cheeky toilet gang join us, and blow me down but one of them is Adlington Beer Circular, and wants a hold of Colin. Colin obliges. Lovely stuff. I was so close to meeting him last time out when I ticked Bottom Spinners, so it's great to finally meet him and the Circlees.
One of them is a Sheff Wed fan and I emit my most patronising 'awwwww' ever when he admits it.
They then give us some great local knowledge and advise us to tick off Ben's before Riley's because the former is putting on some 'event' post-Chorley v ScabbyB so best to get it done now before it gets too busy after 4:45pm!
Ben's Tap, Chorley (2699 / 4860)
The bloke who I assume must be Ben is a reet livewire, I don't think I've ever seen a publican move with such speed and cover as much ground across his own premises since I visited JJB in Rye's Ypres Castle last summer. Dizzyfying! "You doing the Chorley ale trail?" he asks, after I make a lot of noises like "aaah" and "cooo" which give the game away that I'm new here. "Oooh look Dad, they do their own beers, oooh what a cute little logo, look the lion's mane is made of hops, how clever!" You know, that sort of BRAPA 5th pint behaviour! I tell Probable Ben "Well, I am, in a round about kinda way, doing a Chorley crawl of sorts haha" but he's not in the mood for my cryptic bullshit and without another word, dashes off again, this time returning with a leaflet listing not just the zillion Chorley ale pubs I know, but a zillion more too. Busy downstairs, so I'm glad when Dad returns from an upstairs loo trip to say there's a nice empty table up there. After this, the pub takes on a 'Lighthouse Sunderland' soporific sedation, helped no doubt by the treacle stout. Good job.
I didn't get a badge, sticker, 70% off my beer so I'm still not sure how the Chorley Ale Trail works, maybe just like the GBG, it is for your own satisfaction?
And speaking of which, the 60% GBG moment is finally here ..... I try not to let the tears well up as Dad takes the photo.....
.... but noticing the thru-traffic entering Riley's Taproom & Wine Bar, Chorley (2700 / 4861), (note 'wedged woman') Dad makes a swift U-turn and calls out "I'm just off for a coffee somewhere, you carry on!" Well, well, well. I pluck Col from my bag, and we chant "we'll drink on our own, we'll drink on our owwwwnnn, we're the 60% club, we'll drink on our owwwnnn" (definitely not a result of too many strong dark beers). A 3.8% hazy Rivington is needed I think, burrrp, the lady seems polite, and as so often happens when I enter a pub, the crowds disperse quite quickly though I'm happy to perch on a ledge opposite the bar. Slightly surprised at the lack of pool / snooker tables - a bloke we spoke to earlier on did confirm it used to actually be a Riley's, but now I'm here, observing the shape of the place, I think my chain may have been being yanked! Daddy BRAPA, all coffee'd up, swoops back in to join us late on. Better latte than never, eh? Geddit? Thanks.
Start of the mass exodus brought on by sight of a cauliflower And there we have it! Join me next week, when I'll tell you what went down in Whitby and Marske.
And then, two mini BRAPA away trips in quick succession to two counties I've been neglecting. Which, if 2023 is anything to go by, will mean I'm constantly behind on my blogs until December!
Thanks, Si
