(*Although I did, shortly after today's fourth pub).
If I'd been pleasantly surprised to find Waterloo's excellent Four Ashes open an hour earlier than expected, what followed was a bit of a head-scratcher.
2pm advertised not only on both Facebook and Google, but on their own front door for heaven's sake! It was after 3pm now.
Shutter down but lights are on, how odd!
I cross the road to see if I can find a secret door, but as you can see, there weren't many options shy of hurdling that brick wall!
I'm just about to give it up as a bad job when this Cheeky Mass of Ginger Stubble bounds down the road. "Opens when he wants really!" laments CMGS when I express confusion.
The Mass continues to loiter without another word. Then two other men arrive from a different angle. They loiter too All three blink expectantly at the pub for two more minutes. 15:15. I see a blind wobble. Then, a hand appears! Addams Family : the Craft Reunion?
Trap & Hatch, Waterloo (2632 / 4793)
All I can think is that these regulars are part of some 'Trap & Hatch WhatsApp group' and they got the nod from the guv'nor to head down for 3:15pm, for this was no coincidence. I guess I was fortunate I'd been waylaid enough to not give up on it. Seems a decent man does our Rob, if that is indeed his name, and I feel confident enough to question things, to which he looks rather sheepish before muttering "errrr, yeah, I got a bit held up!" This is more dive bar than micropub, tatty, chilly, faintest whiff of cannabis in the air, and the pub dog is a livewire sniffer who won't leave my bag alone! One of those places that feels a 'run for his mates' type of bar. Slightly cliquey but not utterly uncaring. Absolutely nowt wrong with the 8 Sail beer, but Lincs beer outside of Lincs? I feel I had my fill in 2023.
Time to escape Waterloo, and by now I really wanted to. FIVE MERSEYSIDE TICKS REMAIN. And I'm on an open ticket back to York (I realise only now, nice bonus) , so no reason not to push myself a bit further.
I stay on the train and cross my legs as we cross through the heart of Liverpool, and alight at this unlikely stop called St Michaels (not M&S), closer to the pub than Aigburth Station despite Aigburth being embedded in the pub name.
Make it make sense Merseyside ya weird buggers!
Little Taproom on Aigburth Road, Aigburth, Liverpool (2633 / 4794)
A huge improvement on what had gone before, just lacking one specific ingredient which would've had it competing for pub of the day, and that was 'BRAPA engagement' (not A BRAPA engagement, I mean I'd propose to my cauliflower tomorrow if it wasn't weird). It rankles with me that in such an (on the surface) cheerful, bright, breezy hospitable micro, I never quite made a connection. I don't always welcome it, but it would've felt right in the here and now. I'd had a jolly chat with the barman re the 'dangerous' 5.8% 'Get Locky' beer which tasted about 10% at this stage. I ask two ladies if I could perch at the end of their table. They agree, it is a fairly large table, they were deep in chat and probably 15 halves of stout deep. It's not like anyone is 'Hoylake Botoxed Wizardora' levels of harshness, but no one is 'Butcher's Arms Herne Grey Codgers' or 'Gateshead Microbus Jury Duty Couple' buoyance either. And I was so central to a fairly intimate space, smiling my face numb around the room but trying not to look needy. Finally, the ladies notice a bloke perched uncomfortably opposite. They shout over, does he want to join us too? He does, that starts some nice chatter amongst the four of us re micro etiquette, but too late, my glass is empty! And poor Ivor, didn't get a look in. Would Colin have sparked a better reaction? Oh, and both loos are occupied so I don't even get a farewell wee - FML!
More frustration at the bus stop as this girl steps forward to flag the bus down, so I step back a pace, but at the last minute she realises it isn't hers, steps back, waves it away, it careers past the stop, and seconds later she flags down when she does want, bound for Liverpool, like WTF ya selfish cow! Or should I have been more alert? Bit of both maybe.
Yes, Aigburth hadn't been a lucky place for poor ole' BRAPA!
But I was still determined to get a final tick. So after an unsly wee, I hang around and get the next half hourly bus. We chug up through some weird suburbs, I'm dozing off as the sun suddenly sets like we're in Madeira, and we're plunged into darkness. I snap out of it just in time to press the bell at (ALMOST) my exact stop. Hurrah!
Cask, Stoneycroft (2634 / 4795)
A micro with a carpet! The ultimate prize after a difficult couple of hours. This nice dude Tom on Twitter is trying to get me to admit it is a shit carpet, and it is, but doesn't matter mate, a micropub carpet IS a micropub carpet and you need to double the score. 8/10. Linked to the Bard in Prescot we did recently, but this is much warmer and softer. Steamy, beery pongy, bald thick necked men and noisy dogs jostle for position. I'm too comfortably numb in the fug of it all to get upset about trivialities like twoggery. The beer is a welcome delight. 3.3% effervescence brewed in some obscure Somerset shithole, I think they call it Somerset. Joking of course. I LOVE the cricket team. Everyone is very smiley, this is what the latter half of today had been lacking. And it feels good. And talking of feeling good, just THREE pubs now remain on Merseyside.
For the FOURTH time of asking, despite having three or four decent pre-emptive shouts back in Liverpool City Centre, I forgo them in favour of a Costa Coffee on the station.
And that kids, is why I won't finish the GBG until I'm an old man.
C'mon train doors, open sesame, I'm getting chilly .....
Si
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