BRAPA XMAS PT II .... LEAMINGTON ARRRGHH : A BAD HAND IN WARWICKS / LEEDS WOULD'VE TICKED MORE (PUBS)

Saturday 20th December 2025

All aboard the festive Dross Country for the final BRAPA outing before Christmas. A curtailed day, as I'd booked myself a Birmingham-Leeds 5pm train back so I could meet my work colleagues for the back-end of our Christmas night out.

Following on from what we'll term the 'Enfield Slip' two days previously, my left knee passed a late fitness test but my right hand wasn't so great. I cannot even lift a full pint, only a half.

Conclusion - I must drink left handed until the beer kicks in.

Along with a splendid Arctic coffee and croissant, the highlight of the journey down (marred by the usual Christmas nobheads) was a chat with a Villa fan off to Brum's Christmas markets. She 'GOT' BRAPA quicker than anyone on record.

I kid you not when she concludes "Yow may as well get the Wetherspoons at New Street station done as you've easily got time before your connection". Wish I'd proposed!

So I did (tick the pre-emptive 'Spoons, not propose). London & North Western, Birmingham was far better than the monstrosity I'd imagined with dread. Even on a day as tricky this. A decent half of a Christmas Lymestone which I'm disappointed to see doesn't come out dark. And the carpet a railway thing of beauty - 9.5/10. Excuse the Think Tank* below ......

*Terrible Blur

Keen to make a dent in Warwickshire this year, it is my debut in Leamington Spa, and like most towns ending in 'Spa', it is genteel, clean and full of middle aged Mum's dressed in Victoriana walking around with wicker baskets, small pups and shit daughters on tricycles. The air is 78.7% fresher than in Birmingham #BRAPAFact

Every building looked like a potential Wetherspoons, until I came to the real thing, the least Spooniest building in town. Where had all the granite pillars and fancy balustrades gone?

Benjamin Satchwell, Leamington Spa (3203 / 6044) was my 400th Spoons tick, which would also have been 50% of all 'Spoons if they hadn't opened a gazillion new ones in the run up to Christmas. That landmark would be achieved in January when I hit my 405th. Like the town itself, it is a suspiciously clean and well-appointed place, the Cotswold porter a thriker (once I remembered to drink it left-handed, should've been an LHG really, that's a joke for Bristol beer nerds). The carpet is a disappointing 6.5/10. As one of my disciples comments, it looks like a child has run Mum's lipstick through a grey carpet. Speaking of Mum's, I ring M.BRAPA for Hull City predictions. WBA at home. Tricky, though Ryan Mason has proved as shit as I suspected he might be so fingers crossed. 'Brooke' is the only Satchwell I'd heard of until Benjamin. She was Anne in Neighbours. Horsey, whined a lot, but never whinnied. Or neighed. Like this 'Spoons, a grower.

Closer to the station, we find Leamington's other tick but I'm blocked off from a swift entrance by some dawdling last minute Christmas shoppers.

Boiler Room, Leamington Spa (3204 / 6045) is ironically named because it is actually freezing cold and everyone is wearing chunky puffer jackets, Pringle jumpers, snoods, turtlenecks and gloves. I did locate a bench beside an elaborate radiator with pipes reaching up into Ye Gods, but even then I had to sort of drape myself against it, Terry Waite style. In any case, it isn't the comfiest place to enjoy a pint. All three cask ales on are pale, further reason to find this a frustrating tick. Admittedly, the Wilde Child is as good as you'd hope. Top brewery, best L**ds export since Joe Gelhardt. The two dudes behind the bar are fine, too cool for skool, very relaxed, and that was that.

So that was Leammers. I'm sure I'll be back in the coming years, but on this brief GBG evidence, it doesn't hold up fantastically well as a pub/beer town in comparison to some of its similarly sized neighbours.

Next (and final stop) on this much curtailed day is Warwick. Now this is a town I've ticked in before. Back with Daddy BRAPA 7th October 2017. I remember we were both pretty underwhelmed. Tilted Wig the only really poor one. Cape of Good Hope and Old Post Office were decent. Not much memory of Punch Bowl or Wild Boar but the landlord annoyed us in one by sulking because we refused to help him chop up apples! I'd have to re-read my blog.

Eight and a bit years later, I had two 'new' ones to do starting out in the backstreets after a fair old trek from the station ......

Symptomatic of today and my experience of the town's pubs in general, I just couldn't get to grips with Four Penny Pub, Warwick (3205 / 6046). A peculiar boutique hotel bar with Micropub designs by dint of its ale range. The zebra wallpaper is appalling, the rest of it drab, though the warmth and comfort draws you in once you've sat a while, and it does feel more like drinking in a hotel bar than Micro. I'm pissed off when the barmaid looks straight through me to serve a regular oldie behind me. Look, I get it, I know it is open policy for some publicans 'cos you gotta look after your locals' / 'these are the guys that keep our pub going all year' but it has never sat right with me, feels unfair, and at least she apologises. The Hobson's Plum Porter is astonishing, best I've had apart from Titanic (especially Grand Reserve). Most others are so piss weak, you can barely taste plum. I'm told this is a 'extract v actual plum' thing but this isn't a beer blog so let's say no more ,The place is empty when I arrive, but a bunch of Xmas jumpers arrive, and nick every chair from near me, which I'm happy for them to do. "Time of year so is gonna happen!" I tell them, trying to imply pubs are for life and not just Christmas but it was too subtle.

Closer to the centre, I find today's final tick (already!) ..... I'm erring on the side of caution re getting back to Brum because I know what a time-slip of a place it can be around New St, and I need to make this 5pm Leeds train and show some commitment to my work colleagues I very rarely see in person.

More like it! This was the pub today needed and deserved, and finally a Warwick pub I can put hand on heart and say I've enjoyed. Eagle, Warwick (3206 / 6047) has a uniqueness that benefits from the bustling atmosphere of 'discerning pre-Christmas drinkers' if you can imagine such a concept. A cute little cave, vaguely European in style, full of real ale troglodytes. Deya are great aren't they? My pint was unsurprisingly fluffy but high class. A guy lets me have the one remaining decent seat, commenting "sitting down is the easy option anyway, hah!" but I tell him about my recent injuries just because I felt like I needed an excuse! Top place.

Still time to squeeze in the pre-emptive 'Spoons before close of business.

They call it the Thomas Lloyd, it's a bit of a mess. Lacks love. A real good Warwick 'Spoons would be a GBG regular I reckon. The highlight was that in the early stages, it resembled a scene from a Bugsy Malone as four gangsta' frizzy haired kids, led by an older one, play 'toss the sauce bottle' so they land upright! After about ten mins of clattering around, a bad Dad comes along and says they are probably annoying the other customers, and they must desist! Too late now mate, I've just finished my half of Silhill Porter. The carpet is an Ember-esque 5/10.

I was also hoping for another pre-emptive Brum 'Spoons called 'The Dragon' but I get lost in that horrid shopping centre bolted onto New Street station and TWICE have to ask for directions and get in lifts to escape.

I also missed the GBG listed Wolf at Snow Hill, but that's low hanging fruit for 2026 perhaps on the way back from Stourbridge, Halesowen, Sutton Coldfield or WBA away, so no bother.

A cracking but overpriced hot chocolate from Leon (not Foster) briefly sobers me up and I'm soon in Leeds, a bit unlucky in that Crystal Palace are away to the White Shite for an 8pm kick off, but it doesn't really affect me. We've beaten WBA 1-0, three wins in a row, what is the season?!?! Incredible.

I tell my work colleagues that I've arrived, and because my pub reputation goes before me, they swiftly leave the shithole they are in, the aptly named Chloe Snowball facetimes me, and we agree to meet at the tatty but very proper and decent Ship Inn.

A couple of Yardbirds and a Guinness follow, before someone (me) makes the genius suggestion of popping next door to the similar but more excellent Whitelocks which is heaving so we sit outside which is a bit chilly but fine. Parris jinxes Chris Rea by telling me how 'Driving Home for Christmas' is her favourite seasonal song and I wander indoors to rate the carpet 8.5/10 and the window 9.5/10 because a ticker's work is never done. The Five Points Railway Porter drinks immaculately just like in Nunhead two days ago. But then I move onto Guinness for some weird reason.

Some bright spark (definitely not me) says we should end at the very gay Viaduct so we can have a 'dance'. £5 to get in. No cask! Drag queen DJ slags off Amy's roots when she forgets to say 'please' when asking for Spice Girls to be played, I drink 2 Corona's and a Guinness and dance to 'Spice up Your Life' and 'Wannabee' cos I'm drunk again. The toilets are like a multi-sex version of York Tap, yucko!

I'd deliberately not highlighted any of my GBG entries today to add a layer of BRAPA interactivity to our work's do. Not sure this was the most appropriate venue, but I got them to do it anyway!

Alana does Warwick (not like Debbie does Dallas)

Mr Baldwin greens Leamington

Parris and Amy dance to Spice Girls but don't do any ticking

11:59pm when I reach Leeds station, but to my horror, no trains to York, and not even any buses! £59 Uber it is, and the guy is a bit of a prick too.

Mouth felt awful next morning, thought it was just a weird hangover but no, man-flu was forming, we'll call it 'Viaduct Tongue' just in time for Christmas, great!

I'll tell you about a Boxing Day in South Yorkshire and a trip to Brighton on Friday.

Hope you enjoyed that, Si