BRAPA ..... WALLY HULL IN SOLIHULL (NO CAULI ON THIS PUB JOLLY)

Google Photos update - still awaiting an email / callback from Wix Tech Support.

As this next blog goes on, watch as I delve into the disgustingly murky world of AI images as a back up plan.

Saturday 26th April 2025

<Blackboard outside pub inviting you into their 'Ibiza style beer garden'>

I beg your pardon Hampton-in-Arden, but you promised me a beer garden .....

<Outside of pub looking leafy and old>

The Willy Wonka Experience of pub ticking, White Lion, Hampton-in-Arden (3081 / 5566) was a Westward Ho! massive let down on every level. The front bar promises much, low beams, slate floor, but a giant plasma screen has been wedged in at an angle, and a random piles of logs doing nothing block up what was once a proud fireplace. I can't find a staff member. That's because the landlord is sat down around the corner on his phone, not arsed to check if he has customers. Chatting to locals later, I'm told he tries for the 'grumpy schtick' which is often endearing, but not here. The Taylor's Golden Best is functional. Realising indoors has little to offer (dining pub further back), I decide to explore this beer garden. Now I've not been pubbing in Ibiza, I was far too young, so I wouldn't know, but not taking the sign too literally, I'm imagining they are promising a sun-kissed green leafy idyll, maybe a beach. So to find four rickety picnic benches atop some astroturf just summed up all I knew about this pub. A nice man fiddling in a car boot sees my GBG, tells me he used to use it to explore the UK, so at least I can vent. Hampton-in-Arden has no buses, but it does have a train, but it only goes between Brum & Cov, there is no branch line to Solihull, so that is useless too. I call for an Uber to take me to 'Knowle'. Ugh.

<Pic of either the spoiled front bar or the dreadful outdoor area>

Rewind a couple of hours, you find me in Brum's Bullring M&S buying an emergency jar of marmalade for my Sussex holiday. Marmalade is a BRAPA essential. And yes, I am a shred head rather than a shredless wonder. From there, a long bus ride in a Coventry direction to an 11am opener in a place no one has heard of called Meriden.

I mess up my hopes of knocking on the door bang on 11am (meaning I can get the 11:30am hourly bus) by pressing the bell too early.

It didn't matter in any case, as the closest bus stop to the pub is currently out of service due to roadworks, so I wouldn't have made it anyway. Hurrah .... sort of.

<Today's first pub, with a beautiful raised pub sign giving it a 'coaching inn' outlook>

But if you are going to be stuck anywhere for an enforced two pint sesh, you won't do much better than Queen's Head, Meriden (3080 / 5565) - my pub of the day, a real hidden gem I'd recommend you seek out cos in unison, X and Bluesky spluttered 'HUH? WHERE??' when I checked it in. When the barman apologises for me for his rowdy locals, I tell him pubs are supposed to be lively. He probably thought the GBG was my Physics textbook. Besides, it was nothing on the Mackem to Oxford 07:27 special earlier this morning. Okay, so Lee Howey's brother is a c**t, I get the message! Speaking of Championship football, I had high anxiety. Hull City at home to Derby, relegation six pointer .... as long as we don't lose, we should be ok. Hold that thought. The Bass drinks marvellously, but I choose Oakham Citra for pint two. This is brought over for me, table service. And to quote Mudgie on seeing the below photo (yes, photo) "red velour benches, Britannia tables, beermats, artexed white wall, hanging mugs". Yep, this was a pub to truly admire.

Rare actual photo because I included it in my month end review

Well, that was nice wasn't it? Adding a photo to my blog AND visiting such a good pub.

We fast forward back past dreadful Hampton-in-Arden, which did finish nicely in fairness with Mr car boot, and taxi driver Sajjad is a good guy dispatching me at pub three by 13:08. If I could get pissed before 3pm, maybe I could forget Hull City exist?

<A micropub with austere old lady outside drinking coffee>

Actually, let's try a bit of cheeky AI for this one ....

Almost identical. Three different sized cups madam, you coffee fiend?! I like the AI ones Hull City colours more. But Ale Rooms, Knowle (3082 / 5567) had HUMANITY. Insular or incestuous would be harsh, but certainly 'very close knit'. No, I don't have a brother called Richard who drinks here. Yes, I would like a very pesto homemade sausage roll - better be pine nut and not hazelnut or I might need an ambulance. Look, I AM SORRY I've made you go down to cellar to change the Holden's Golden Glow, and then decided to have a 3.7% stout anyway. He's all out of puff. And why is a bald bloke calling the local postman 'gorgeous' , who in return gets a kiss on the crown of his head, Fabian Barthez style? Whirlwind experience, but appreciated. Bus to Dorridge is calling.

Not sure AI quite understood the brief on this one .....

Meanwhile, it is time for tennis down in Dorridge, mind the locals .....

I'd visited the still GBG listed cricket club across the way several years back, but now we have their neighbour Knowle & Dorridge Racquets Club, Dorridge (3083 / 5068) joining the GBG. Can I heckers like get in?! Tea lady comes to my aid. "The bar doesn't open til 4pm". Whaaaaat? Pretty sure I didn't read that on any online source. But she's impressed I've come from York. "I'll call Roy when he gets off court" she says, pointing at a chap with bald head glimmering in the sun, attempting a mean back hand slice ... "Make yourself comfy". I sit down hopefully as she boils the kettle. Then she runs out and I hear her telling Roy to open up early cos I've come from York especially! He's as lovely as her. "Most pub tickers are usually called Graeme, are you sure you are called Simon?" he asks, as the shutters go up and a superb Abbeydale Daily Bread (kept much better than in Sheffield's Crow) is pulled. I take it outside so I can watch the tennis. Tea lady is now winning the mixed doubles, but still breaks off at love 30 to make sure I'm having a nice time. Then Roy pops up again to make sure I'm enjoying myself. THE BEST OF PEOPLE. Give this club all the awards.

"Thank god that BRAPA bloke has finally left Roy, more 'tea'? (wink)"

I'm delighted and slightly surprised when the bus stops for me, as I don't appear to be technically stood at a stop. It whizzes in an outskirts of Solihull direction, Widney Manor area, and then a ten minute walk down a leafy lane to something quite grey and dull looking.

AI making it look vaguely charming and VERY South West London, but as we've long since known, Ember Inns are beta blockers for the pub tickers brain. Have you ever felt less inspired in any chain? At least Hungry Horses, Sizzlers and Chef & Brewers have 'life'. Fieldhouse, Solihull (3084 / 5569) shares its name with a particularly incompetent Hull City Hull Daily Mail reporter. A good or bad omen? It is even more silent than your usual Ember due to a small group of old boys respectfully watching some Pope funeral coverage. Something of a GBG regular, I'm pleased to report at least the Anthem by St Austell is a good drop, barmaid semi-pleasant, and I accidentally acquire a rather posh pen. It is grey of course. Hull City 0-0 Derby at half time too, a grey scoreline. But it'll do.

"Thought you were dead mate"

I swear these are getting worse.

Anyway, I didn't want to do it but a final taxi cheat feels necessary. My other Solihull tick is nowhere near here. But it is nowhere near the centre / bus routes either. And it opens 4pm Saturday. AND I'd been told earlier today that the only reason it is in the GBG is that a leading CAMRA man lives just around the corner of it (tries to act shocked). But we'll go in with an open mind.

Ghulam is mildly interested in Hull City's plight, and drops me off 16:16. Last pub, so looks like a Craven Arms re-visit will be easily managed.

AI might think it is being funny, but it has still imagined a pub bigger than Signal Box Cleethorpes and Platform 3 Claygate. Anyway, I'm not disliking Pup & Duckling, Solihull (3085 / 5570) and this Bristol Beer Factory easy drinker is pint of the day, so it DOES deserve its GBG placing. Hurrah! Whilst I didn't see Solihull's most famous son Andy Moles, or Roger Twose (or Asif Din for that matter), the locals are a fizzy bunch. The decor is errrm, sauna-esque. I get slightly damp in the toilets .... NOT MY FAULT, I didn't understand how taps work after six pints. And the general bonhomie means I'll happily nurse it until the next Solihull bound bus is available. One final check on that Hull City score, almost certainly 0-0 but best be on the safe side .... OH JEEZUS! Right, no time to dwell, I have a bus to catch.

I briefly consider my two required ticks in Shirley, at least one of which is closer to Solihull station, but decide against it.

Instead, I make my way back to Birmingham New Street (which always take longer than I think) and then that painful but sobering uphill walk to the always delightful Craven Arms which in the absence of any gigs, is at its chilled out brilliant best tonight.

AI refused my request for a carpet, but pretty spot on otherwise.

Well, that was all very brilliant / dreadful.

See you next time when I get stuck into Chichester.

Si