Peaked Too Soon?

During the years of compiling this blog, I've always made every effort to get to the locations I want to go to, rain or shine, regardless of the distances involved. More often than not, this involves putting my faith in public transport, for better or worse. I've taken multiple buses in one day. I've braved multiple changes of train in pursuit of my aims. I've even boarded a dreaded rail replacement bus during a return journey from Coventry. I've also traipsed on foot through the various villages that surround the A60. Luckily, I've experienced very few mishaps along the way. Why do I mention this as an opening to this entry? My latest trip would involve me once again placing myself into the hands of the gods of public transport, utilising both train and bus, to visit a new location for these pages. This time though, the location was not new to me. I first visited it many years ago, before the existence of this blog and it has always stuck with me. Something about the place burrowed deep into my brain and I knew I would have to make the effort to return. Last week, my long held dreams came to fruition. I went back to Castleton. 

Castleton is a village and civil parish in the High Peak district of Derbyshire, at the western end of the Hope Valley on the Peakshole Water, a tributary of the River Noe, between the Dark Peak to the north and the White Peak to the south. The population was 544 at the 2021 Census.

Castleton village was mentioned as Pechesers in Domesday Book in 1086 where "Arnbiorn and Hundingr held the land of William Peverel's castle in Castleton". This land and Peverel's castle were amongst the manors belonging to William Peverel that also included Bolsover and Glapwell. 

St Edmund's Norman church was restored about 1837. It has late 13th-century tracery and an ashlar-faced Perpendicular tower. Its box pews are dated 1661, 1662, 1663 and 1676.

A medieval leper hospital (the Hospital of Saint Mary in the Peak) is thought to have been on the eastern boundary of Castleton, though some locals believe it to have been just south of the Speedwell Cavern footpath from the village. University of Sheffield archaeologists are investigating 'Castle of the Peak', which was reputedly founded by the wife of one of the William Peverels before 1153, and continued until about the 1543 Dissolution. They say the earliest documents referring to Spital Field are a grant and a Charter from the early 14th century. They are also investigating the 12th-century planned town at the foot of the castle hill. Castleton's medieval town defences are still evident in the village and are a Scheduled monument.

Castleton had a long history of lead mining; the Odin Mine, one of the oldest lead mines in the country, is situated 1.5 kilometres (0.9 mi) west of the village. Researchers studying an ice core from a Swiss glacier have found that levels of lead air pollution across Europe during the period 1170–1216 were as high as those of the Industrial Revolution, and the principal source was Peak District mines such as Castleton and Wirksworth. The mining created and enlarged local caverns, four of which are now open to the public as Peak Cavern, Blue John Cavern, Speedwell Cavern and Treak Cliff Cavern. A small amount of Blue John is mined locally, and sold in a number of local gift shops, one of which is located in the 17th-century tollhouse.

Since the 1920s the main mineral industry in the area has been cement. Hope Cement Works is closer to Hope, but its quarry is closer to Castleton. A war memorial stands in the Market Place, in memory of local residents that died during both World Wars.

Castleton is situated between the gritstone plateau of the Dark Peak to the north and the gentler limestone scenery of the White Peak to the south. It lies at the western end of the Hope Valley and consequently is surrounded on three sides by hills. Most prominent is the ridge to the north. This is called Great Ridge; it runs east from Mam Tor to Back Tor and Lose Hill, via the pass (hause) of Hollins Cross, where paths from many directions converge and cross over to Edale. Alexander von Humboldt visited caves near Castleton and Buxton in June 1790 to investigate the region's geological structures.

Castleton was formerly on the A625 road from Sheffield to Chapel-en-le-Frith, on the way to Manchester. Leaving Castleton, the western road once went over Mam Tor, but after continual landslides and repairs (Mam Tor is called the "Shivering Mountain" because of its very loose shales), it was eventually abandoned. The only westbound exit from Castleton is now the unclassified road over the narrow Winnats Pass. This road is very narrow and steep and unsuitable for heavy vehicles or high volumes. Road signage has been designed to discourage through traffic by showing only local destinations. Thus, most traffic enters and leaves the village on the eastern (Hope-Hathersage-Sheffield) road (A6187); for traffic going west, that involves a long diversion via the villages of Bradwell and Peak Forest.

Getting to Castleton from Nottingham is no easy feat. Without driving there, the easiest way requires an hour long train journey to Sheffield, followed by a slightly longer bus journey. The good news is that the bus is at least direct and drops off in the heart of the village. The length of the journey did, of course, mean an early start. Thankfully, I'd picked an excellent day weather-wise for a journey into the midst of the Peak District. I boarded the 8.17 train from Nottingham station, arriving in Sheffield around an hour later. Sheffield Bus Interchange is located a short walk from the station. The next available bus to Castleton would depart at 9.46 which meant I had a few minutes to wait. Before long though, my double decker chariot had arrived and I, along with several other like-minded people, as well as a large number of students, was wending my way out of Yorkshire and into Derbyshire. After around 20 minutes or so of a steadfastly uphill bus journey, the urban sprawl of the Steel City begin to give way to open countryside. My heart was gladdened when I saw the sign proclaiming entry to the Peak District, which seemed to coincide with the changing of the landscape. Rocky outcrops and soaring hills dominated the surroundings, with green swathes of sloping field running on into the distance as the mid-morning mist was quickly burned away by the strengthening sun. Ever since I first visited the Peak District, I've always felt an affinity for its scenery and the sheer majesty of its natural beauty. This is an ancient landscape, sculpted and wrought by nature, thankfully maintained and preserved by humanity so that it can be enjoyed for generations. As well as being very scenic, the bus ride also encompassed moments of awe and peril as the bus squeezed down narrow country lanes through villages of stone cottages. Eventually though, just before 11am, we had reached our destination. I disembarked the bus at the Castleton bus station, ready to begin my day of alcohol exploration. As well as excitement, I couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. Would Castleton be as good as I remembered it? Had I painted a false picture of the village? Would my rose-tinted glasses be fogged by disappointment? There was only one way to find out. 

Following a quick toilet break at the public toilets next to the bus station, I set my sights on my first pub of the day. This was only a few yards back down the road along which the bus had entered the village. Memories came flooding back as I made my way to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese.

This traditional village inn is the only pub in Castleton currently listed in the Good Beer Guide (2025). It was originally built in 1660 and gained its licence as a pub in 1748, when it became a coaching inn. The present name dates from 1876. It also holds a special place in my heart as the pub where my love for real ale was fully realised. My last trip here had been something of an epiphany which caused my then newly-fledged taste for Britain's best drink to spring forth fully formed. Entering through the front door gives you the options of going left or right. Going right will take you to the restaurant, whilst left will see you enter the bar area. The interior is very much in keeping with a pub of this style and age. Wooden beams criss-cross the ceiling, some of which are inscribed with the names of the landlords of the pub, dating back to 1746. The seating takes the form of settles and wooden tables and chairs, arranged around the edge of the room. The walls are whitewashed, with artefacts and old photos of the village. A smaller snug space is at the rear of the room. The bar is central to the building and features 6 handpulls. I jumped for joy (metaphorically speaking, think of my knees) when I saw what the lineup had to offer. 5 of the 6 handpulls were in use, with a choice between Acorn Barnsley Bitter, Bradfield Farmers Blonde, Abbeydale Moonshine, Peak Ales Bakewell Best and Abbeydale Deception. I felt an immediate sense of giddy nostalgia. When I was last here, it was Abbeydale Moonshine that had finally crossed me over to the delightful world of real ale and cemented the start of a love affair with proper beer that continues to this day. It was too great an opportunity to pass up. I went straight for the Moonshine, parted with £2.40 for a half, and moved over to one of the settles opposite the bar. For the next few minutes, I'd gone back in time to the day, years before, where this had all begun. The Moonshine was as good as I remembered. Absolutely perfect. It remains my favourite real ale to this day and I have this place to thank. Being in this pub, with this beer, and recreating the moment so many years later, created a sensation bordering on the spiritual. What a start to the day!

I was brimming with hope as I left Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. The fact that my memories of the place had been vindicated suggested good things were to come for the rest of the day's events. Leaving the pub, I turned left, heading back down How Lane in the direction of the bus station and the centre of the village. The road curves round to the left, where it becomes Back Street. I followed the road, trying to keep as close to the walls of the adjacent buildings as possible. The narrow road means heavy goods vehicles swing around the bends at quite alarming angles. My next destination lies on the junction of Back Street and Cross Street. Next up would be Ye Olde Nags Head.

This is another 17th century, former coaching inn and another premises that has remained relatively unchanged in the intervening years. The entrance is to the front of the building, accessed up a flight of steps from Cross Street. A relatively small entranceway opens out into a foyer, which again has a choice of directions. Going left will take you to a restaurant area. The smaller bar area is to the right. The carved wooden bar presides over an area of exposed stone walls, wooden furniture and exposed beams covered in pump clips. A staircase in one corner leads up to the toilets and there is also en-suite accommodation. The bar area itself gives the impression of a classic Peak District inn, welcoming and comfortable and, when the feature fireplace is lit, no doubt very cosy. The bar itself is well stocked. A bank of 7 handpulls can be found here, 5 of which were in use on the day. The available beers were Lucky Hoof (the house beer, brewed by Intrepid), Intrepid Navio, Bradfield Farmers Stout, Welbeck Abbey Henrietta and Stancill Stainless. Whilst I was familiar with Intrepid by name, my experience with their beers has been virtually non-existent, so it seemed perfectly logical to give them a go here and I settled for Navio (4%). This cost £2.55 for a half. I withdrew to a bench adjacent to the bar, looking out into the wider bar space and taking in the surroundings. Ye Olde Nags Head has previously featured in the Good Beer Guide and it's easy to see why. The Navio is delicious. Billed as a 'modern bitter' to use the marketing parlance, this is a golden ale brewed with US, UK and European hops. The aromas are citrusy with the flavours conveying marmalade. In short, it's a very drinkable interpretation of a session beer. The brewery itself is based further down the Hope Valley, on the site of an old Roman fort, the history of which influences the beer names. 

Before too long, my glass was empty and it was time to depart Ye Olde Nags Head. I still had a little bit of time before the next destination opened but I'd factored this into my itinerary in order to give myself more time to explore. As mentioned earlier, I'd certainly picked a decent day for it. Spring has well and truly sprung. The skies were a perfect blue, the sun was beaming down and the temperature was decidedly mild. Under these conditions, a seasonal eudemonia sets in and my mood is always lifted. I spent a good amount of time wandering the village, taking in the sites, specifically Peveril Castle, perched high on its outcrop overlooking proceedings, and Peak Cavern, otherwise known as The Devil's Arse, one of Castleton's 4 show caves and the only one to have formed naturally. The others are the result of mining in the area. Peak Cavern also boasts the largest natural cave entrance in Britain. I'd visited both the castle and the cave, as well as Speedwell Cavern which is permanently flooded with tours conducted solely by boat, on my previous trip and would sadly not have time to do the same on this occasion. Still, it was nice to be back and to reacquaint myself with their presence. 

After my brief excursion around the village, which resulted in a lot of photos being taken, I was ready to hit pub number 3. This would one of 2 that lie on the same street, Castle Street, off the main road through the village, under the watchful eye of the aforementioned fortress. The next stop would be The George.

The George was built in 1543 and has been family-run by the current tenants since 2018. The pub is owned by Wells and is Grade II listed. Its location in the village, at the far end of Castle Street opposite the church has seen it described as Castleton's only 'back street' pub. It's not immediately obvious who the George it is named after actually refers to. It's likely to be a monarch or someone of great importance, although the monarch at the time of its construction was Henry VIII. Passing through the suntrap front drinking area will take you into a cosy two-roomed layout, with flagstone floors in the bar area and a carpeted restaurant to the other side. Both sides are served by a curved central bar. To the rear is a corridor that leads to the toilets. There is also a rear garden with views towards Mam Tor. Internal seating is traditional wooden furniture. A real fireplace faces the bar, and was inexplicably lit when I arrived. The decoration includes images of the village plus numerous awards that the pub has won. The George has won awards for its sustainability aims, including Pub Aid Community Sustainability Hero in both 2024 and 2025. It keeping with this theme, the pub grows its own produce which is used in its kitchen. It also utilises solar power, is big on recycling and even keeps its own bees. There's certainly a welcoming buzz about the pub (pun intended and I won't apologise for it). 5 handpulls are located on the bar, split across both sides. These usually feature a couple of beers from Brewpoint (Wells's brewing arm) alongside well-known bigger brands. This turned out to be the case at the time of my visit. Alongside Brewpoint Ruggers and Anchorman, Timothy Taylor Landlord, Wainwright, and Black Sheep Best Bitter were also available. I opted for the Wainwright (£2.65 a half) and wandered outside to take advantage of the glorious weather and soak up some much needed Vitamin D. I did briefly return inside to use the toilet but I would finish my drink in the sun. The Wainwright was in good condition. Whilst it wouldn't necessarily be an obvious first choice amongst the options available, I thought I'd give it a go all the same and it turned out to be a wise idea. On the whole, The George is a cracking pub! It should be commended for its commitment to sustainability, as well as the warm welcome and the quality of its offering. People are often quick to criticise pubs for making efforts to go against the grain but, with climate change and the environment rightly becoming more of a concern, we can all learn a lot from the commitments being made here. 

I didn't have far to go at all for my next stop and it would again be a place that I'd visited before. As mentioned previously, the next pub is on the same street as The George. I would now be stopping off at The Castle Inn.

This stone-built pub is hundreds of years old and previously acted as a coaching inn, being a stopping off point for the Wellington Express, which travelled between Manchester and Sheffield in the 1800s. Now operated by Mitchells and Butlers, as part of its Vintage Inns chain, The Castle aims to create an authentic atmosphere. Past the stone frontage and the outside drinking area with its rattan furniture, you will find the entrance to the pub, which leads into the bar area, located on the right. A corridor beyond this extends to the toilets. A staircase leads up to the guest bedrooms above. Whilst the bar area itself is relatively small, there is a decent amount of seating stretching around the edge of the room. Wooden beams, candles on tables and local photographs adorning the walls add to the ambience, although the candles were obviously not lit so early in the day. The sash windows are large, allowing lots of natural light to filter through into the atmospheric space. More tables for dining can be found across the corridor from the bar. The bar options here were from 3 of 5 available handpumps, offering a choice between Abbeydale Moonshine, Sharp's Doom Bar and Wainwright. As loathe as I was to repeat a beer, I didn't really fancy Doom Bar and instead I went for the Moonshine (£2.20 a half). If nothing else, it would be a good point of comparison between here and Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese from earlier in the day. I decided once again to enjoy my beer outside. I'd chosen my arrival at a good time. A large group, who appeared to all be wearing gym and workout clothes, had arrived before me but were taking their time to get to the bar so I snuck ahead so I wouldn't be waiting for ages. The Moonshine here was decent. It definitely wasn't as good as that which I'd had earlier but it was far from awful. I hadn't just come here for the beer though. The Castle is allegedly very haunted, with 4 spirits believed to be in residence. The most well-known of these is that of a woman, jilted at the altar, who still appears in the building, the location of her reception, still in her wedding dress. One witness is known to have run out of the building screaming after an encounter with this sorrowful wraith whilst another claims that the ghost only appeared from the knees up. The apparition of a man in a blue pinstripe suit has also been seen by two previous proprietors. Room 4 is allegedly haunted and home to strange activity. The details of this, and that of the 4th ghost, are scant. On my previous visit, there was a large board inside the entrance that provided information on all of the hauntings but this has since, rather annoyingly, been removed and I have thus far been unable to glean more information. Still, The Castle is still worthy of a visit, however you feel about being potentially terrified by a ghostly bride. 

With my second Moonshine of the day down the hatch, I broke for lunch. This I enjoyed on a bench near to the old defensive wall, not far from where the tourist visitor centre is located. There were more people around by this stage. As far as I could tell, it was mostly tourists but there were some locals. There were also a few school groups, and smaller family groups. I also saw a lot of people walking, either by themselves or with dogs. This is certainly the right location for exactly that sort of activity. Lunch consumed, it was back to the grind. My next stop was mere feet away. I was back on Cross Street now. Onto the Bulls Head.

  

Recently refurbished, the Bulls Head is a Robinsons operated pub and hotel, set in a slightly elevated position overlooking fields to the rear. The interior has a roughly two roomed layout. The bar area, to the left, is smaller, with leather sofas and a mix of wooden furniture. The bar is large and set almost opposite the door. The dining room area is larger, with wood panelling. To the rear, a door leads out into the car park but also a large outside seating area, with wooden furniture. There is also an enclosed barn for additional outdoor drinking and dining, although this was closed during my visit. This being a Robinsons pub it should come as no surprise that their beers are the ones on offer. The 4 handpulls offer a variety from their portfolio. My choices on the day were Trooper, Idaho, Dizzy Blonde and Unicorn. As partial as I am to Trooper, Idaho was a new beer for me, plus the pump clip was shaped like a bear, so I decided to give that one a go. This is a 4.6% IPA, triple hopped with Idaho 7 hops from an Idaho hop farm. As expected, it's a big flavoursome beer with juicy tropical and citrus flavours with aromas of soft fruit and a backbone of gentle pine. Drinking a beer of this type in the sunshine, overlooking green fields, in the shadow of imposing Derbyshire hills, whilst the sun radiates down, is something to be treasured. 

I was in something of a quandary as I left the Bulls Head. It was much earlier in the day than I expected it to be at this point. I'd planned for it to take longer to get around all of the pubs on the agenda. As it was, it was barely 1.30 and I only had two pubs left in Castleton. I resolved to slow things down a bit at the next pub and ponder my next move. This time, I retraced my steps. I headed back down Cross Street, turned left and then right so I was back on How Lane. My next stop was The Peak Hotel.

The Peak Hotel began life as an inn in 1809 when it was under the stewardship of Robert Schofield Watson, a butcher by trade, who also operated a shop down an alley across the road, as well as owning the field opposite. The property was leased from the How family, who have given their name to the road outside. At the time, the pub was known as The Board. Following Robert's death in in 1828, at the age of just 46, and the tragic death of his 11 year old son only a fortnight later, his widow Deborah took on the pub, with their sons William and Benjamin taking over the butchers. The pub name changed to The Heart around this period. Deborah eventually passed the inn to Benjamin and his new wife, Harriet, in 1839. Harriet died in 1844, aged just 23, and Benjamin remained at the inn with their children, renaming it the Butcher's Arms and eventually purchasing it from Elizabeth How upon the death of his mother in 1846. In the deeds, the Peak Hotel is listed as a house, barn and garden, a cottage and croft, and a butchers shop. Benjamin Watson finally sold the property in 1887 to Greaves & Co. of Norfolk Brewery in Sheffield. Rebuilding and alterations took place two years later, including stabling for 50 horses and an outside balcony to create a Swiss cottage effect. This coincided with the discovery of a 5 foot long sword from the Cromwell period in a nearby stream. The building was officially renamed the Peak Hotel in 1890 and reopened on May 13th 1891. Gilmour's Brewery of Sheffield bought the hotel in the 1930s and it was then sold to Tetley's. The building has been under the current ownership since 2014. I wasn't sure what to expect when I entered the Peak Hotel but I needn't have worried. Upon entering, the bar is directly opposite the door. To the left, an area of comfy seating occupies space inside the front windows. Beyond this, a more secluded space to the rear has wooden furniture, bookcases and an upright piano. To the right of the entrance, another table is tucked into an alcove. An area beyond this acts as a restaurant. To the rear, there is a sheltered garden, accessed up a flight of steps. The toilets are located inside, to the rear of the building, in an area underneath a staircase that leads up to the accommodation above. The decor is inviting, with old advertising posters, breweriana, mirrors and other items reflecting changes in attitudes to marketing down the years. This is all accompanied by a soundtrack of 50s and 60s classics. On the bar, you will find 5 handpulls, the main reason for my visit. All of these were in use at the time of my arrival offering Timothy Taylor Landlord, Bradfield Farmers Blonde, Theakston Old Peculier, Theakston Best and Wainwright. With more time to kill here than I'd initially anticipated, I decided that I'd treat myself to a pint, specifically of the Farmers Blonde (4%). This set me back £4.90, which is not unreasonable given the location and I wandered out to the garden, although this turned out to be mostly in the shade so I returned inside and sat in the area of the pub towards the rear. The Farmers Blonde was certainly a cracking pint! This is a very pale, blonde beer with citrus and summer fruit aromas. It's very easy to drink and certainly very refreshing. Whilst I supped my delicious pint, I tried to figure out what to do. My scheduled train back from Sheffield wasn't until 17.45. This meant I would need to get the 4pm bus back from Castleton at the absolute latest. I only had one venue left to visit in Castleton and this wouldn't be opening until 3pm. At this point in time, it was approaching 2pm. In my eyes, I had 3 options. 1) I could continue to potter around Castleton whilst I waited for the last venue to open. 2) I could skip the last pub and get an earlier bus back to Sheffield and possibly have a beer at one of their fine drinking establishments. 3) I could wander into the neighbouring village of Hope, where I knew there would be at least one pub I could while away time at, and then wander back and hit the last Castleton pub before the bus home. 

In the end, I picked option 3, which was, obviously, the most logistically taxing. Still, it was a nice day and I wasn't ready to say goodbye to the Peak District just yet. The village of Hope is some 1 and a half miles distant and is pretty much a straight line along the main road that I'd entered Castleton along on the bus earlier. My aim was to get to Hope for around 2.30, have a pint, and then get back to Castleton for 3.30, knowing that would give me enough time for a half in the final venue, which is a stone's throw from the bus station. Off I went, safe in the knowledge that, worst case scenario, if I ran out of time, I could catch the bus from Hope instead. Thankfully, my determination paid off. I enjoyed a very good walk from one village to the other, taking in the sights of sheep and green fields, hills rising behind, the oddly out of place spectre of the nearby cement works sticking up in the foreground. The walk took me around half an hour, by which time a pint was very much required. Luckily, there is a Good Beer Guide 2025 listed venue in Hope, and it happened to be open. I was looking forward to my detour to the Old Hall Hotel.

A hall was first built on this site in 1272, under the instruction of the recent crowned Edward I. This was demolished in the early 1500s and a new building was constructed in the foundations. These ancient remnants can be seen in the cellar under the bar. A stable yard and coach house were located to the rear. The gateposts that were once the entrance to the courtyard and an orchard are still visible. A lodge to the hall once stood here and this later became a smithy. In 1719, George I granted a licence for the hall to become an inn and it became known as The Stone Daggers. In 1876, it was officially renamed The Old Hall, as it had been referred to as such by locals for many years. Inside, much of the original features from the early 18th century rebuild still remain. The main entrance leads through into a well appointed bar area with a central bar, whitewashed walls and exposed beams. Wood panelled areas reflect the building's age as do oil paintings inserted into panelling elsewhere. Beer tankards hang from the beams and old beer and whisky bottles are mounted on shelving near the ceiling. Inside, the furniture is traditional wood, with wooden flooring in most areas and a flagstoned section that runs parallel to the bar. To the right is a snug with an open fire, as well as access to the toilets. There is an outdoor seating area outside the front entrance along with a small car park. In an annexe, there is a tea room, under the same ownership, that provides food for the pub. The Old Hall is operated by Theakston, which bodes well for the beer choice. The 6 handpulls on the bar, all of which were in use, did indeed include various options from their range, specifically Lightfoot, Old Peculier and Best. Guest beers were also present, in the form of Stancill Black, St. Austell Conversion and Wainwright. It would have positively disgraceful of me to not enjoy the fruits of Theakston's labour so I opted for a pint of Lightfoot (4.1%) at £5.30 and headed outside to enjoy it. And enjoy it I did! Lightfoot was very good! A sessionable blonde beer, it's citrusy and smooth and very refreshing after a long walk! It was definitely good at revitalising me after my stroll over from Castleton. Mission accomplished. At least partly so. 

Time check. It was 2.50. Pint finished, I resolved to return to Castleton, again on foot and tick off the last part of my itinerary. Making the slog back down the main road, I entered Castleton for the second time that day, around 3.25. The final stop on my grand day out had just opened its doors. My last stop would be the Swiss Tap. 

My final destination before the bus is a modern bar that operates as part of B&B but is also open to non-residents. It also operates as a restaurant for both B&B guests and the general public. The layout is micropub in style. A small seating area at the front leads to the single entrance which opens into the main bar space. The bar runs along the rear of the room. A small number of tables and chairs are accommodated into the space, along with leather sofas that run under both windows. The lighting is bright and the decor is modern and contemporary. An archway leads through to a larger room with the same aesthetic. TVs are on the wall, usually showing sport. Toilets are through a doorway next to the bar. Amongst the relatively mainstream keg and spirit options, there is also a bank of 4 handpulls on the bar. Half of these were occupied when I entered, with a duo from Abbeydale: Daily Bread and Moonshine. Resisting the urge to have Moonshine for the third time in a day, I went for the alternative. Daily Bread (3.8%) is Abbeydale's take on a classic English bitter. It's copper in colour, malty and smooth, creating a well balanced beer overall, rounded out by subtle hop flavours. I parted with £2.45 for a half. It was a bit different to everything else I'd had to drink all day and all the better for it. I detected biscuit notes which made the whole thing moreish. 

I had no time for more though. With my half depleted, I took my leave and walked the few short yards to the bus station, still with plenty of time to spare. Before too long, I was conveyed back across the hills and dales to the metropolitan hubbub of Sheffield and further on to Nottingham, although not before a short delay due to a points failure. With my return journey being as long as my outbound one, I had plenty of time to reflect. What a bloody great day I'd had! Castleton had fully lived up to my expectations and, in a lot of ways, surpassed what I could remember about it from my one previous trip. On paper, a solo trip to the Peak District could have been quite daunting and intimidating. However, my experience as a solo traveller has become a lot more extensive over the past few years and for that I'm glad. I doubt I would have had the courage or the determination to make this trip in the early days of the blog. I'm truly grateful that I'm able to push forward and visit and revisit places and summarise my experiences in these pages, and I'm also grateful to everyone that takes the time to read them. I can take two main things from my trip to Castleton and my side quest to Hope. The first is that, the beer and pub scene, certainly in this part of the Peaks, is not to be sniffed at. Being in such close proximity to a number of excellent breweries certainly helps matters. The second is that I shouldn't have left it so long to make a return visit. I love the Peak District. Its soaring landscapes, hills and caves are something that we should be immensely grateful for and protective of, and it's myriad excellent pubs should be seen as an extension of that. There's something almost indescribably peaceful and rejuvenating about drinking a well kept beer, surrounded by gorgeous scenery, and watching the world roll by. The pace of life seems different here. As I departed Castleton, away from the shadow of Peveril Castle and the shivering slopes of Mam Tor, it was hard not to feel a pang of sadness. However, that will always be accompanied by a sense of incredible happiness that I managed to get back here. Whatever else is going on in the world and, let's be honest, there's a lot, you always need somewhere where, just for a few hours, everything feels sane. 

Pub of the day: The George. Great location, cracking beer and deservedly recognised for their sustainability credentials.

Beer of the day: Abbeydale Moonshine at Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. Predictable I know but what can I say?

Biggest surprise: The Peak Hotel. Quirky, comfortable and welcoming location that was much more than expected. 

Derby Road Delights

Every so often, I like to make an effort to stay closer to home and re-evaluate areas that I've not been to for a while, in an attempt to see what, if anything has changed, in the intervening months and years. This can often be useful in determining whether a specific area has improved, declined, or something in between and, more often than not, acts as a barometer to measure the current state of play across the wider area. It was time for just such a revisit. On this occasion, I turned my attentions to an area of the city that has been, perhaps unfairly, somewhat maligned in recent times. Since this particular location last featured here, new premises have opened, some have closed, more than one has changed hands and some have been resurrected having been seemingly lost. If the title of this blog hasn't given the game away, let me be clearer: my aim was to recreate the 'Derby Road stroll', making my way up Derby Road to Canning Circus, reappraising the pubs along the way to see how they are fairing and whether this part of town still deserves to be thought of in glowing terms, at least as far as its drinking establishments are concerned. And so, last week, on a chilly and unsettled Thursday, I made my way into Nottingham from home. I have recently taken to walking into the centre from Clifton, a distance of approximately 3 miles, which takes me something within the region of an hour or so. 

Having tackled a couple of small rain showers and a toilet break, I arrived in the city centre shortly before 1pm. I had a strong route in mind although, with my trip being midweek, the opening hours of my targeted locations vary so there would be a lot of toing and froing up and down Derby Road throughout the day. However, I must confess, that things would not be quite as simple as that. I had a couple of other venues in mind for the start of the day, both of which have recently reopened under new management following periods of uncertainty, and one of which I have a very personal connection to. Having arrived into town via Carrington Street, I took a left onto Canal Street and then crossed over, making my way up Maid Marian Way. Taking a left onto Hounds Gate, I turned right at the end, emerging in the shadow of Nottingham Castle, in the midst of a heavy shower. My first destination of the day can be found on the junction of Friar Lane and Standard Hill, opposite the castle entrance. I would begin my day at The Crow.

The Crow started life as BZR, a shots bar with an infamous 'triples for singles' policy. When this venue closed, it was taken over by Magpie Brewery who converted it into the Crafty Crow, an independent venue focusing on real ale, craft beer and small batch products from independent producers. Those of you who have been long time readers may remember that I worked here for around 4 years, until the autumn of 2021. During that time, I worked my way up to GM until leaving for pastures new, and I'd only been back twice since. The old adage states that you should never go back. There is something slightly intimidating about returning to somewhere you've previously worked and once had a deep connection with but, as it would turn out, I needn't have worried. The Crafty Crow closed its doors in 2022, due to market pressures brought on by the pandemic and subsequent economic issues, with Magpie Brewery ending their lease. In July 2023, it reopened, and is now once again run by an independent operator, who has put their own spin on things, including changing the name to its now shortened version. Whilst I had revisited since the reopening, this would be the first time that I'd gone back in my capacity as a blogger and I was looking forward, although with some apprehension, as to what I would find inside. Generally, the overall decor has remained intact. Rustic, bare wood and soft furnishings are arranged across a split level layout. A flight of steps leads up to the main door which opens into a downstairs seating area. A second flight heads up to the larger level where the bar can be found. Another, smaller, raised area is located opposite the bar. The bar is central and square with service to three sides. It is on the bar where the biggest change can be found. Gone is the repurposed brewing vessel that acted as a font for keg beers. The 12 handpulls for 8 real ales and 4 ciders have been reduced to a single bank of 6, with ciders now served directly from the box. This bank of 6 occupies the central arm of the square bar. The keg offering is now certainly more mainstream and takes up several T bars on another arm of the bar unit. The third side is free of dispense equipment and merely acts as a service area. There are other changes too. A number of TVs have been added. These are mounted above the bar and also occupy wall space in the seating areas. One area of former seating is now occupied by a pool table and dartboard. At the top of the stairs, next to the bar, there are now a fruit machine and an electronic quiz machine. The Crow now hosts regular live music, quizzes and drag nights, as well as showing live sport. It's a stark change. However, I am pleased to see that the commitment to real ale remains strong. On the day of my visit, 5 of the 6 handpulls were in use, offering beers from local breweries. My first options of the day were Black Iris Endless Summer, Blue Monkey BG Sips, Castle Rock Preservation, Castle Rock Tackle This! and Lenton Lane Atlas Remap. I hadn't yet had the chance to try Tackle This!, a special Castle Rock beer brewed for the Six Nations, so it was now time to give it a go. This is a 4% golden ale with a delicate, malty sweetness, balanced hop bitterness and subtle notes of tropical fruit and citrus. It's a refreshing beer and the perfect antidote to my long walk. Not only is it delicious it's also for a good cause. The beer has been brewed in partnership with Oddballs, a charity promoting awareness of testicular cancer, and 10p of each pint purchased goes directly to the charity. It set me back £2.30 for a half and went down very well indeed.

My return to The Crow had been nostalgic and worthwhile. It is nice to see the place back open again. The remnants of its former life are still in evidence and have laid the groundwork for what it is now. It seems to have adjusted its offering to adapt to these uncertain times. The beer is still good. Aesthetically very little has changed. The toilets are still in the same place and mostly unchanged, and the preponderance of cast iron corvids throughout is undimmed. However, it does no good to dwell on the past. Onwards we must go! Leaving the Crow through the accessible entrance onto Standard Hill, I turned right, where my next location is clearly visible. Heading uphill, I arrived, a few short yards later, at The Roundhouse. 

The Roundhouse is one of Nottingham's most unique buildings. It began life as a circular Victorian hospital ward, which opened in 1900 as part of Nottingham General Hospital's Jubilee Wing. The hospital itself opened in September 1782 on what was then Derry Hill. Two of the hospital's original subscribers were Robert Nightingale, uncle of Florence, and the industrialist Richard Arkwright. The hospital closed in 1992, with the buildings subsequently taken over by the University of Nottingham, leaving this building as the only survivor. The surrounding area also has its place in history. King Charles I is credited with starting the English Civil War nearby, when he raised his standard here on August 22nd 1642. The subsequent historical appreciation of this event led to the area being renamed Royal Standard Place and Standard Hill. This truly is a building like no other. Entering on the ground floor brings you to a staircase that heads up into the main area. The toilets are located just inside the entrance, down a short passageway. Disabled access is to the rear of the building. Portraits and photos of the local area and eminent historical figures are displayed on the staircase. The main room opens out, making the most of the circular layout. The bar is front and centre and there is various seating throughout, mostly in the form of booths that occupy space around the walls, where they benefit from the large windows. More traditional seating is in the centre of the room. The internal layout has been broken up by pillars. The ceiling is high and painted with a mural by Richard Green. It's a very interesting and unique space, made all the more surreal when you come to the realisation that the booth seating very likely occupies the spaces where hospital beds would have been in the building's original incarnation. Putting that mildly disturbing thought to one side, it was time to peruse the bar options. A bank of 4 handpulls can be found here, 3 of which were in use on my visit, offering me a choice between Fuller's London Pride, Timothy Taylor Landlord, and Castle Rock Screech Owl. I settled for a half of Landlord (£2.50) and made my way to one of the booths to soak a little bit of sun which, predictably, had come out as soon as I'd entered the first pub. The Roundhouse is another place that I'd not visited for a while. It struggled post lockdown and did close for a period, which led to the previous owners calling it a day. It's now under new management and seems to be doing well by all accounts. They certainly know how to keep Landlord in good condition!

Thus far, my day was proving promising. It was onto the crux of the situation now. It was time to tackle Derby Road. Leaving The Roundhouse, I headed left and then followed the road around to the right. This took me back downhill and back onto Maid Marian Way. I then turned left and continued on. Successfully negotiating the chaos caused by roadworks brought about by Nottingham City Council's decision to turn a roundabout into a T junction, I eventually reached the bottom of Derby Road. Quite why the council, in their infinite wisdom, have decided to do this is anyone's guess but they claim it will improve traffic in the long term. We'll see about that. At the moment it's causing carnage but that's enough about traffic management systems, at least for now. The rest of my afternoon would be spent zigzagging up and down Derby Road, one of the main thoroughfares that leads out of the city and in the direction of Derby, Long Eaton and Queen's Medical Centre, amongst other romantic holiday destinations. I began the uphill trudge, made more difficult by wet pavements, and arrived at my next destination in due course. Located on the left hand side as you head uphill is one of Nottingham's most beloved watering holes, Hand & Heart.

This fine establishment is one of the many pubs in Nottingham, especially at this end of the city, to have caves incorporated into its structure. Here, they occupy the rear of the building, adding an extra touch of ambience to proceedings. The pub itself dates back to at least the 1860s when the caves were used for beer storage and maturation. In 1879, it was registered as a beer house under William Thomas Fisher. The pub once brewed its own beers but this operation ceased in 1933. By 1949, it was part of the Bradley's estate before becoming a Shipstone's pub until the mid-1990s. Up until fairly recently, the Hand & Heart was independently operated. This changed following lockdown as the pub struggled and never fully reopened. It is now owned and operated by Pub People who, regardless of what opinions one might have about their business model, have done an excellent job in restoring it to its former glory. The decor has been updated but left relatively unchanged and the bar has been extended to occupy the majority of the front room. Seating is a mixture of high tables and comfy seating. A small number of tables are located in the front windows, with a small snug-like space to one side. The caves to the rear are used exclusively for dining, with low tables and benches, and festooned with fairy lights. The gents toilets, previously located in the cave section have been relocated to upstairs, though the ladies toilets remain in situ. It's clear that a lot of time and money has been spent upgrading this place. It is looking resplendent. I can also confirm that it does an excellent line in Sunday lunches. That's not why I was here though. I was here for beer and I was in luck. 5 handpulls are front and centre. Once again, they are predominantly of a local flavour. Alongside Bass, there was also Nottingham Superdelic, Lenton Lane Guinevere, Nottingham EPA and Dancing Duck Dark Drake. I was unfamiliar with Guinevere (4.8%), a collab between Lenton Lane and Adventure Beer Co. so it was that which won my vote (£2.45 a half). This turned out to be a great choice. It's a citrusy pale ale, brewed with Nelson Sauvin and Lemondrop hops, alongside oats for a smooth, rounded mouthfeel. The finish is equal parts hoppy and smooth. It went down a treat. During these trips, it's always nice when I can have a conversation with staff. This was the case here, helped by the fact that member of staff on duty, Jesse, is a former work colleague of mine. We discussed how the pub was doing, and the general day-to-day challenges of hospitality, before I found myself with an empty glass and it was time to relocate. 

I turned left upon leaving the Hand & Heart and continued uphill, where I soon came upon a sorry sight that has befallen one of the licensed premises on this route. The Ropewalk, former student haven, lies empty and boarded up and has been for some time, along with the Dancing Dragon Chinese restaurant next door. The Ropewalk featured in my last blog entry to cover this area and I did even work a few shifts there back in the day, so it's sad to see it in such a state. What its future holds is unclear but hopefully someone will come to the rescue and return it to its former glory. Fingers crossed. I had reached the area known as Canning Circus. What was once an area of countryside on the outskirts of the city is now essentially a traffic island surrounded by residential properties and local businesses. It is named after George Canning, the former Tory statesman, who once held the dubious honour of having the shortest time as Prime Minister, managing 119 days, before dying in office. This unwanted record now belongs to Liz Truss, she of the pork markets and defeat to a lettuce. My next stop lies within the Canning Circus conurbation. Another destination in this part of town with an excellent reputation, and one of two Good Beer Guide 2025 listed venues on the trip, my attention now turned to the Sir John Borlase Warren. 

Built in an area that was previously a crossroads, the building that is now the Sir John Borlase Warren, was constructed in 1796, replacing a wooden stile. Little is known of its history after this, although it became a coaching inn in 1814, having originally been a private house. It is named after an 18th century naval hero, who was born in Stapleford (which has a Wetherspoons pub of the same name) in 1753. After a distinguished military career he became a diplomat to St. Petersburg and an MP for Great Marlow in Essex, before he passed away in 1822. The pub in its current form reopened in 2014, as a Project William pub under the guidance of Everards, originally with Brown Ales but later with Lincoln Green. Its warren of internal rooms, spread over three floors, has changed relatively little. The ground floor, featuring the bar and other public areas, has been decorated to a high standard. The bar sits to one side with other rooms extending off of a central section. A room beyond the bar has a snug feel, with low tables and chairs. A smaller room, opposite the bar, features a real fire, traditional items and windows that look out over the street outside. Beyond this, down a small flight of steps, is another, more secluded space with additional seating. To the rear, a corridor leads to the toilets and there is also an outside drinking corridor, leading to an extremely well appointed garden, regarded as one of the best in the city. There is also an upstairs patio for sunny days, although better suited to ones that are warmer than the day I chose to visit! Decor throughout is of old brewery posters, artefacts, and framed magazine covers, including broadsheet Beano pages above the urinal in the gents. Everything about this pub reflects a modern twist on an historic building. On the private floors above the bar, much has remained intact from the pub's days as a coaching inn, including the servants rooms, located in the roof. That's not the only remnant of the past that may potentially linger on. There is a private flat on the second floor, below the old servants rooms which, for some time in in the mid-2000s, had a reputation for an unsettling atmosphere that would come and go, along with bouts of violent poltergeist activity in the vicinity. That's not all. The pub boasts a deep cellar, cut from the rock itself, with caves extending three floors underground. A paranormal investigation carried out here resulted in a disembodied voice being picked up on a voice recorder. The voice went unheard to the naked ear of the participants but was apparently a male voice responding to a comment made by a member of the group. The lower cellars are currently off-limits, which makes you wonder why. The reason for any unexplained activity here is unknown but it is known that a gallows was once located in this area and, with it being a crossroads, the mortal remains of those hanged, as well as those who had taken their own lives, were buried here, in unconsecrated ground, in bygone days. Luckily, there's much to enjoy for those still in the land of the living too. The bar is stacked! 12 handpulls can be found on the bar here. 9 of these were occupied on the day in question. Whilst two of these were given over to cider, in the form of Thistly Cross Whisky Cask and Pulp Mango Daiquri, the rest were dominated by ale. With the pub being a Lincoln Green concern, their products dominate, although there are guests available too. The choices were Marion, Hood, Archer, Tuck and Little Piece of Heaven, all from Lincoln Green, accompanied by Little Tonk and Everard's Sunchaser as guests. I don't have Lincoln Green beers nearly as much as I should so it was as good a time as any to rectify that. I went for the Archer (£2.25 a half) and moved into the middle room where I could look out onto the street. The Archer was in cracking form and a reminder that I've been remiss in not tracking it down more often. More than that, the Sir John, is an absolute gem. It's a cracking place to enjoy a beer, soak up the history and wonder how this area might have looked when the pub stood alone at a crossroads, with the city visible down the hill. How times change. One thing that hasn't changed though is that the pub thoroughly deserves its reputation. 

As sad as it was to leave the Sir John, I had much to be getting on with. Leaving the pub, I turned left, crossed over at the traffic lights and continued on, keeping a future stop on my left. I was technically now on Alfreton Road and my next stop was the Organ Grinder.

Previously, this was the Red Lion which, in 1879, was a registered beer house with Henry Hutchinson as it's landlord. In more recent times, the former Red Lion was bought by Giltbrook based Blue Monkey brewery and refurbished as their flagship pub, the first of 4 across the East Midlands. Inside, whilst the decor is modern and has been upgraded, the olde worlde feel has been retained by sympathetic use of the original layout. The bar area is a single room with a wood-burning fire opposite. Seating areas are located on opposite sides of the entrance, with the one to the left slightly larger. To the rear, a small flight of steps leads up to a more secluded seating area. Beyond this, more steps lead up to a covered and heated roof terrace, which itself leads to a first floor function room. A downstairs corridor leads to the toilets. The decoration is minimalist, in keeping with Blue Monkey's aesthetic. Unsurprisingly, Blue Monkey beers take centre stage across the 9 hand pumps although there is an occasional guest beer. Available on the day were Primate, Mango IPA, Guerilla Stout, Infinity, Infinity Plus 1, BG Sips Santcherry and Chocolate Amaretto Guerilla with Batemans XXXB holding the guest slot. I am a fan of Blue Monkey beers, which is just as well given the circumstances. It took me a while to decide but I eventually opted for the Santcherry, although I was advised by the member of staff to try it first as it is an acquired taste. In the end, it was good enough for me and I parted with £2.30 for a half and moved to a table to the right of the door. In case the clumsy pun wasn't an indication, Santcherry (4.1%) is a cherry infused version of another one of Blue Monkey's beers, specifically Sanctuary, normally a copper best bitter. This version still boasts the malty and bitter backbone that you would expect but with a sweetness and a tartness from the cherry. It all balances together quite well, although I can easily appreciate why it might not be for everyone. I enjoyed it well enough though, and I also enjoyed my time here. It's been some time since I visited this particular Organ Grinder. Matt and I came here the last time the pub featured in the blog but my most recent visit was when Amy and I held our engagement party in the upstairs function room. We've been married 7 years this July so that should be an indication on how long ago that was! The pub is relatively unchanged in that time but still does what it does very well indeed. I was also reminded of another pub that once stood nearby, and from where my previous blog-based Canning Circus trip began, the Portland Arms on Portland Street. This closed many years ago and is now houses. It's at least good to see that some of the pubs in the area are doing their best to stand strong and act as bastions against the forces of change. 

I had already walked past my next location on my way to the Organ Grinder, which meant it was mere seconds between leaving one pub to get to the other. Located on the junction of Alfreton Road and St. Helen's Street, is The Good Fellow George.

  

This building began life as a branch of NatWest bank and dates from around 1960 when it was constructed as part of the post-war improvements of Radford. The frontage follows the curve of the adjacent road, itself part of a modern gyratory system, built to replace a roundabout. After the bank branch closed, the building was, for many years, a fancy dress shop which had its entrance hidden behind a cabinet outside. Following the closure of the shop, it became a pub, originally operated by the, now sadly defunct, Totally Brewed and named The Overdraught, in which guise it featured in a previous blog entry. Sadly, that venture also ran into trouble and it later closed before being resurrected in its current form, now named after the aforementioned Tory Prime Minister who lends his name to the area. Inside, the layout is virtually unaltered. The bar sits to one side, the front of which is decorated entirely with 2p pieces, in a nod to its former life. Booths occupy the curved side of the building, with more traditional furniture in the centre. The high ceilings and large windows provide lots of light. A balcony room upstairs overlooks the main floor. The original bank vault is still in the basement. Once again, it had been a while since I'd visited so it was promising to see a bank of 3 handpulls on the bar, alongside around a dozen keg fonts. Of the trio of hand pumps, 2 were offering tasty goodies, both from the portfolio of Lenton Lane, in this case Pale Moonlight and What is Pint? I opted for the latter (£2.40 a half) and took a seat at one of the booths. I was pleasantly surprised to be able to get here so early in the day as it was before their advertised opening hours but the doors were open and there were other customers, so happy days. I distinctly remember the building being bigger when it was a fancy dress shop but as that was almost twenty years ago, I can be forgiven for my memory being a but fuzzy. On the plus side, the beer was good. What is Pint? (4.2%) is a blonde ale, hopped with El Dorado, Idaho 7 and Simcoe hops. The end result is an intense flavour and a clean aroma that leads into a piney and citrusy finish. There was certainly something nostalgic about the way the day was shaping up. All of the venues so far had been ones I'd visited previously and had featured in these very pages in years gone past. It was time for something new.

The next part of my itinerary would see me heading back down Derby Road and then eventually retracing my steps back up. My original next stop had intended to be the Mist Rolling Inn, formerly Room With a Brew, and most recently known as The Good, The Bad and The Drunk. However, this turned out to be closed so I resolved to try again later. Back up the hill a short way, and this time on the right hand side of Derby Road, is a place that I'd never visited before: The Whistle & Flute.

 

The Whistle & Flute opened in 2022 in a former menswear shop of the same name. The name is the Cockney rhyming slang for 'suit'. The conversion to a pub has made good use of a deceptively large building. The decor is bare brick walls and exposed pipework with minimalist touches. The bar runs down one side of the room. TVs can be found throughout and there is a dartboard on one wall. A slightly raised area to one side houses a pool table and also has access to the toilets. A larger room extends off of the main room, this one with a projector screen and sofas. The old signage from the menswear shop is painted on the rear wall. The general layout is open plan with a good mix of seating throughout. The bar includes 4 handpulls. Two of these were offering cider, namely Lilley's Raspberry and Lilley's Passion Fruit Martini. The two remaining were providing a choice of ales, both from breweries unusual to the area. I had a choice between Lost Pier If Nothing Goes Right, Go Left and Fell Tinderbox. Given that the Tinderbox weighed in at 6.2%, I instead went for the former, from Brighton's Lost Pier (£2.60 a half). This is billed as an American pale ale at 4.5%. Hopped with Chinook, Centennial and Simcoe, it provides hits of grapefruit, pine and citrus. All in all, it's a very good beer from a brewery I had no prior knowledge of. The Whistle & Flute is a welcome addition to the Derby Road beer scene. I understand that the faux-industrial aesthetic might not be to everyone's taste but it suits this place, with its high ceilings and large front windows. The interesting beer selection also offers something a bit different for the connoisseur. It put me in mind of the Baker & Bear in Hucknall, which is no bad thing.

It was back up to the top of the hill now for another pub that has long earned its reputation for a cracking pint in comfortable surroundings. Across the square from the Sir John is the second Good Beer Guide 2025 listed pub on this trip: The Falcon Inn.

The Falcon was originally built in 1853 and was previously both a Shipstone's and Greenall's tied house. By 1864, it was a fully licensed premises under J. Hickling. Some slight alterations were made around 1919 but many original features remain, including the etched windows. The pub also has a cave cellar that measures 8m x 9m and includes a ventilation shaft. The Falcon has had a troubled history and was closed for a time before it reopened in October 2013. The interior has changed little. Two small rooms are located downstairs with a restaurant area/function room on the first floor. A corridor beyond the first room houses the toilets, although the gents toilets were originally open air when the pub was built. The bar is tucked into one corner with seating around the perimeter between the bar and the door. Another room lies just off of this, with a hatch between them. Historic photos of the area decorate the walls. The Falcon is renowned for its beer quality, hence the terms of my visit. 6 hand pumps occupy the bar and 4 of these were in use when I popped in, offering Oakham Citra, Welbeck Abbey Red Feather, Ossett Silver King and Titanic Plum Porter. No prizes for guessing that I went for the Citra (£2.25 a half). I moved to the table next to the door where I could best soak up the surroundings. Something about The Falcon stuck with me long after my visit was over. Was it the crackle of the log fire? The shelter from the cold and approaching dark? The feeling that, just for a moment, the world had stopped and all there was was the fire, and the warmth, and the beer and those four walls? Whatever it was, it's an utter travesty that I don't come to this pub more often. It's a cosy and welcoming place to spend some time, helped immeasurably by what was a cracking drop of Citra.

I had one more pub left to go and to say it would be a change of pace would be somewhat underselling it. Heading back down Derby Road, on the right as you head back towards the centre, was a pub that also has something of a reputation, though more for entertainment and the craic than for it's beer choice. Nevertheless, not to be perturbed, I made my way to Raglan Road.

 

The Raglan Road was formerly a pub known as the Hawksley, which it became after conversion from a music shop in 2008. The current name, from a poem by Patrick Kavanagh, dates from 2015 when it was repurposed as an Irish theme pub. Such is its reputation as such, it was recently voted one of the 10 best Irish pubs in the country, which is some feat in and of itself. The front entrance is accessed up a flight of steps, elevated above the pavement. Upon entry, the bar is central, with seating spread throughout and all manner of Irish theming. Live sport also features prominently and there are photos of famous sporting moments on the walls. Behind the bar, a small cave, cut directly into the sandstone, is used as a small seating area and there is a small beer garden to the rear, between the back of the pub and the building behind. A single, unisex toilet, is located down a short corridor behind the bar. At the time of my visit, the pub was gearing up for St. Patrick's day, which fell a few days later, although it was yesterday as I type this. This should go some way to explaining the balloons in the photo above. As a rule, Irish pubs, at least locally, don't tend to stock much by way of real ale. In this case, Raglan Road is a welcome exception. It has 4 handpulls, and 3 of these were in use, with a choice between Doom Bar and a duo from Shipstone's, namely Original and Gold Star. I went for the Gold Star (£2.20 a half) and moved to a more secluded area, a short distance from the bar, listening intently to the pop bangers being beamed through the speakers. The Gold Star was decent enough. The girl serving me struggled a bit as the pump was sucking back a lot, a sure sign that the barrel is almost at an end. She was honest enough though and confessed that she didn't know much about ale and asked me to taste it to make sure it was OK. It passed muster. It was by no means the best or worst beer I've ever had but, given that Irish bars aren't really known for this sort of thing, it did the job. Looking around at the effort this place goes to to lean into the Irishness, I can only imagine how busy the place gets at the weekend. Just based on photos and footage I've seen online, they do a roaring trade in good fun and frolics. Thankfully, I was there at a quieter time of day. 

Final drops of beer disposed of, I headed out. After another unsuccessful attempt to visit the Mist Rolling Inn, which was still closed long after its advertised opening time, I took the decision to call it a day and made the commute home, by bus this time. I do rather enjoy the opportunity to revisit local locations, especially when it's been a long time since I was last there. What can be said about the pubs on and around Derby Road? They've had their hardships, certainly, as have far too many pubs over the past few years. Thankfully, most of them have clawed their way out of the quagmire and made it to the other side. Sadly, some haven't been so lucky. Some have been given a new lease of life whilst others have battled on and still continue to do so. Is it a true assessment that this area is a bit hard done by and neglected more than it should be? The answer is probably yes and no. The pubs that are still here are making a go of it and some of them are doing a cracking job. What needs to be done is to encourage people to make the effort. To skirt the roadworks and make the trek up the hill. The reward is plentiful for those that do. The closed premises might be a scar and blot on the eyes but they are a stark warning of what will happen if local pubs are left to fall by the wayside. In short, the pubs I've visited on this trip are all doing their best to thrive in an area that's been left to stutter and stumble. They're worth a visit, even if you think the surroundings themselves aren't much to look at. Maybe I'll take you somewhere more picturesque next time..........

Pub of the day: The Falcon Inn. Homely, comforting and welcoming on a cold Spring day.

Beer of the day: Lincoln Green Archer was in excellent form. 

Biggest surprise: Raglan Road. More than just a stereotypical Irish pub.

Vikings and Martyrs and Beers!

Here we are then, well into February. The first two months of 2025 seem determined to pass as quickly as 2024 did. It won't be long until Spring is well and truly upon us and the prospect of longer, brighter and warmer days will be just around the corner. You join me two weeks after my annual birthday trip away, always an opportunity to relax, recuperate and visit some bloody good pubs along the way. This year's shenanigans took us to a place we've been many times, although events conspired to prevent us visiting last year. It's by far one of our favourite places and somewhere that we always return to time and again. The eagle eyed amongst you may have detected a clue in the title of this entry as to the identity of said place. Of course it's York! The fair northern city which continues to entice us back year upon year. This time however, there was an added twist. As well as celebrating my birthday, this trip to York would also encompass the Superbowl, the NFL's flagship title game. Why York for the Superbowl? Let me explain. The friends with which I partake in NFL fantasy football, and with whom I watch the game every year, have recently decided that watching it in Nottingham was becoming a bit boring and so it was decided that a change of scenery was required, with a different city each year being our location of choice. Last year, it was Sheffield. This year it was York. By a happy coincidence of the Superbowl actually taking place on my birthday this year, and York being a must visit for myself and Amy, a plan was devised to combine the two events.

Amy and I would travel up to York on the Sunday, I'd watch the game that night, and then we'd have two more full days in the city to do whatever we fancied and make the most of some much needed time off. The lads would be making their way up by train and staying for a single night and then heading back of their own accord. Amy and I opted to drive. And so it was that we arrived in this fabulous city in the early afternoon of that particular Sunday. Whilst our previous trips to York had seen us base ourselves in a nice B&B outside the city walls, as this was a special occasion, we'd decided that it warranted staying in fancier digs. Our base for our stay was as central as it comes. Located opposite York's famous Minster, we would be staying at the Dean Court Hotel.

Situated on Duncombe Place, the Dean Court Hotel is a Grade II listed 19th century building that was previously home to the clergy for the nearby Minster. The Dean Court Hotel is part of The Inn Collection, operated as an arm of the Best Western hotel chain. The original facade has been retained, with the interior extensively modernised in keeping with the building's age. The ground floor features the bar and restaurant area, open to non-residents, as well as the hotel reception. The rooms are located on the upper floors. From the outside the hotel doesn't look particularly big but it's almost labyrinthine inside, with more than 50 rooms available. The high ceilings give the modest sized rooms a sense of space. It's a comfortable and welcoming place to spend a night or three, as we would soon put to the test. We arrived shortly after 12.30 and set about checking in. We'd booked the hotel's valet parking service and so, having pulled up outside and unloaded, we soon handed over our keys and the car was whisked away to a private parking location. We have no idea exactly where it was taken but it wasn't far away. We checked in, unpacked, freshened up and set about formulating a plan. We had activities booked for the later days of our trip and a Sunday lunch reservation for later that afternoon, which gave us plenty of time to kill in the interim. As briefly stated, the hotel does of course have a bar. It would have been rude not to make the most of the facilities, purely for market research purposes you understand. The hotel has come up with a simple and ingenious way to ensure that guests do exactly that. In an admirable attempt to be more environmentally friendly, the hotel issues 'green clean' vouchers to all guests. These are issued, per room, for each full day of your stay. If guests do not want their room cleaned, they can redeem the voucher at the bar for one free drink per guest. The vouchers are dated and must be used by the end of the day before the room would next be cleaned. It seemed like a good idea to take advantage of this scheme and so we made our way down to the small, but very neat and tidy bar, to see what delights were on offer. No handpulls are present here but they do offer a small range of real ales in a bottle, from Black Sheep. With a choice between Golden Sheep and Best Bitter, I opted for the former. Amy went for a pint of the Yorkshire-brewed, faux Spanish lager, Madri, and we grabbed a high table at the bar, casually eavesdropping on some very posh people on the table opposite, as they argued about the importance of trees in cities.

We were already enjoying our time here and we knew we'd picked a good place to stay. The Dean Court is 4 star and is definitely worth a visit. Despite the, admittedly expected, lack of cask ale, the presence of real ale in its bottled form cheered my heart. Despite being only a stone's throw from the Minster, the hotel is an oasis of calm in a busy area of the city. Luckily, the bells don't chime at night so there's no risk of having your sleep disrupted, at least not by anything earthly. Being in the centre of what is allegedly England's most haunted city, it should come as no great surprise that are a number of ghost stories associated with the hotel. The first of these, and apparently the least active, is the spectre of a soldier, identified by his helmet as of the Roman persuasion, who is seen periodically on both the ground and first floors. The presence of a Roman soldier in York is, in and of itself, not a surprise as the hotel is in the area where the former Roman fortress once stood. It is odd that such an individual would be seen on the first floor however, as the hotel would not have been built when legionaries walked these streets. Who he is, and why he wears such a helmet, is something of a mystery. A much more active spirit is to be found in the cellar. Believed to be a cleaner, a female figure in Victorian clothing has been seen in this area and is believed to date back to when the hotel shared a cellar with a neighbouring property. A much more intangible 'something' can be found in one of the bedrooms. People staying in room 36 have reported odd feelings, usually in the form of a feeling of pressure pushing down on the bed. A cold spot is also frequently reported, even on very warm days. The fact that the room we were staying in, room 33, was worryingly close to this room was not lost on us, although our nights thankfully passed undisturbed. 

With our drinks finished, it was time to plot our next move. We still had a bit of time before our food reservation and I had quite a lot of time before I would be meeting up with the others. Luckily, as this is not my first rodeo, I'd compiled a list of pubs to visit should the opportunity arise. Throughout our stay, we would visit many of York's fine drinking establishments, including some old favourites. For the interests of this blog, as with the last entry relating to York, I will be paying more attention to places that have never graced these pages before. It made sense to head in the direction of where we would be eating and, handily, there were a couple of pubs on the list that happened to be nearby. Heading out of the hotel, we crossed the road in the direction of the Minster and continued alongside it, keeping the towering Gothic edifice on our left. A short distance from the rear of the Minster, on the junction of Goodramgate and College Street, lies the Cross Keys.

Built in 1904, the Cross Keys replaced an earlier inn of the same name that stood on the same site. Prior to this, the area was occupied by a gatehouse that led to the Minster. Local architect, Frank Raney, of Stonegate, was responsible for the pub's construction. It is now operated by Mitchells and Butler, as part of their Nicholson's portfolio. We'd passed the Cross Keys a number of times on previous visits but never had the opportunity to enter so there was no time like the present. The pub has two doors, a main entrance on Goodramgate, and a smaller side entrance to College Street. We entered through the latter. Inside, a large L-shaped bar sits in the centre of the room. Tables and chairs, in a mix of traditional and high styles, are scattered throughout the interior. A small snug, separated by a partition can be found to the rear, where there is also access to a beer garden. TVs can be found throughout, usually turned to sport, especially on a Sunday, as it was when we arrived. The decor is in keeping with the usual Nicholson's style. The pub was busy when we first arrived, primarily with diners, but we did manage to find a table, although not before we'd examined the bar options. There are 11 handpulls here, split into a bank of 7 and a bank of 4. The choices are from the Nicholson's portfolio and featured Timothy Taylor Landlord, Black Sheep Best (doubled up), Titanic Plum Porter (tripled up), the house Nicholson's Pale Ale brewed by St, Austell (doubled up), Fuller's London Pride and Wainwright. We were served quickly and swiftly and I opted for a half of Landlord, knowing I would have a long afternoon and evening of alcohol ahead. Amy went for a half of Beavertown Neck Oil. The whole round set us back £6.35. We procured a high table in a corner around the pub from the bar, where we could sup and people watch. The Landlord was in good condition. Whilst it is fairly ubiquitous now, it does still surprise me that some pubs manage to mess up its conditioning. Not here though. The Cross Keys in general is nice enough, although it's certainly not as characterful as other Nicholson's pubs. Perhaps the relatively young comparative age of the premises has something to do with that. 

With our drinks finished, we moved on. The location of our food booking was nearby and it just so happened to have a pub next to it that was also on the list. We left the Cross Keys and headed left, onto Goodramgate proper. A short distance away, two pubs sit side by side. The first of these, is the Golden Slipper.

This historic pub was built in either the 15th or 16th century, although the facade is Victorian and was added in the 19th. The pub originally overhung an alleyway but the neighbouring pub has since been extended into that space. The Golden Slipper is relatively unspoilt, although the interior was subjected to a redesign in the 1980s, against the objections of CAMRA. The front door leads through into a narrow corridor, to the left of which is the bar. This runs down one side of the room. There are four seating areas throughout. As well as the main bar room, there is a snug, a further seating area to the right of the entrance and a tiny room, known as the library, which features a couple of tables and a bookcase. The snug previously housed a coffin drop, allowing bodies to be removed from the pub via a side passage before buildings were added next door. The location of this, rather grim, feature can be identified by an area of lower ceiling. The use of a coffin drop harks back to an old superstition that it is bad luck for a body to be removed from a building via the front door. Another superstition has had its hand in the pub's name. During renovation work in 1984, a medieval leather slipper was found buried in the foundations. This is now on display in the pub and has given the building its moniker, although evidence suggests that the pub was known as The Slipper as far back as 1812. The slipper is alleged to have been buried as part of an old custom to bestow fertility on the premises, or as an apotropaic object, that is one designed to ward off evil in the form of witches, demons and ghosts. Whether this was successful is up for debate, as the pub boasts a resident ghost, nicknamed George, and ghostly activity is known to manifest whenever the pub is redecorated. As well as things that go bump in the night, there is beer here too. 6 handpulls occupy the bar and, at the time of our visit, 4 of these were in use. One of them was offering Lilley's Dark Cider whilst the remaining trio were providing Landlord, Rudgate Jorvik Blonde and Ossett Butterley. A half of Jorvik Blonde for me and a Diet Coke for Amy came to £5.10 and we planted ourselves in the library to soak up the atmosphere. The Golden Slipper had been a real find. A proper, old school, historic pub with an atmosphere fitting for its age. The higgledy-piggledy layout and the traditional features certainly heightened the ambience. It helps that the beer was cracking too. I'd expect nothing less when it's so local but I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the Jorvik Blonde. The Golden Slipper left an impression on us. It actually adjoins The Royal Oak, location of our dinner reservation. This clearly confuses people as a couple turned up for their booking at The Royal Oak whilst we were waiting at the bar in the Golden Slipper. I suspected this happens a lot, which was confirmed by the landlord. 

With empty glasses once again, and several minutes to spare, it was time to head next door. Next up, The Royal Oak.

One of York's oldest pubs, the Royal Oak dates from around 1591 and was originally a coaching inn. It was previously known as the Blue Boar in the 18th century, a name since given to another York pub, on Castlegate. It was also known as the Blue Pig when the landlord was John Dickinson. The frontage is mock Tudor and added in the 1800s. Internally, the there are three small rooms off of a central corridor which is the result of a 1934 reconstruction by a local brewer. These features were preserved as part of a refurbishment by Punch Taverns in the 2010s. This refurbishment also included the re-introduction of fitted seating in the front bar, which had been heinously removed by a previous licensee. As well as the front bar, there is a lounge to the rear, with a modern conservatory extension that is slightly raised. The upstairs boasts a restaurant and the toilets are also on the first floor, although there is an accessible toilet in the ground floor corridor. It was here that we had booked for Sunday lunch and, upon arrival, we were taken to our table in the back bar area. The bar is central and serves both areas. Our table was roughly between the bar and a log fire, which wasn't lit, although the room itself was warm. A quick perusal of the menu and we were ready to order, both going for the triple meat roast. I also enquired with our server as to the real ale choice. There are 7 handpulls here, split into a 3 and 4 and divided across both sides of the bar. My choices were Theakston Best (doubled), Landlord (doubled) Pennine Millie George and Ossett Jet. The remaining handpull was offering Lilley's Mango cider. I was unfamiliar with the Millie George, a pale ale from Pennine, so that was my choice. Amy went for a pint of Beavertown Gamma Ray and we awaited the arrival of our food. The Royal Oak is another gem of a pub. Full of character, enhanced by the abundance of original features, entering this pub feels, for a moment like peeling back the layers of time to how things used to be. If you didn't have the electric lighting and the contemporary background music, you could be forgiven for thinking that you'd gone back to the 16th century. Shades from the past still remain, in some form. The Royal Oak hosts a plethora of ghostly guests. A tall, gaunt gentleman has been seen in the rear bar area, whilst a woman described as an old prostitute (though one wonders how you'd know) is often reported from the front bar. Ghostly children are witnessed playing by the fire and some regulars have allegedly seen the ghost of a young girl in the bar. Whilst these spirits are confined to the ground floor, the first floor has not escaped apparitional activity. A woman named Alice has been seen on the first floor, whilst another woman, Mary, has been known to frequent the upstairs apartment. A former landlady reported seeing two shadowy figures moving past the internal glazed window, on the way to the bar, but closer inspection revealed the pub to be empty. 

Strange goings on indeed. Whilst we cannot attest to anything unusual happening to us, the food did come out scarily quickly and ended up being a bit of a disappointment. Whilst the meat was nicely cooked, the vegetables were lukewarm and some of the advertised components, namely peas and parsnips, were missing. Luckily, I had a delicious drop of beer to wash it down. Millie George (4%) is a blonde ale, named after the brewer's daughter. Refreshing and with a mellow bitterness, it carries fruity hop flavours and is very thirst quenching. It was definitely the beer of the day at this stage and more than enough compensation for our mediocre meal. It was at least reasonably priced. The full cost of our bill was £49.40. Still a bit downheartened by our disappointing food, we paid up, drunk up and headed out. With some time left to kill before the evening's exploits, we had plenty of time to head to our absolute favourite pub in York, and my favourite pub of all time as per my last blog, Valhalla, for a relax. After an hour or so, we headed back to the hotel. I changed my Captain America t-shirt for my new Baltimore Ravens jersey, made sure Amy was settled in for the night and headed out to meet my compatriots, almost all of whom had now arrived. Predictably, they'd made their way to a local sports bar so, following a short walk, I met up with them at The Terrace. 

 

The only sports bar in York city centre, The Terrace occupies a building that was formerly a branch of All Bar One. The Terrace was originally located at Fossgate, in a premises that has since been renamed the Stonebow after renovation by Stonegate, who decided not to renew the original lease. Now independently operated, the new Terrace opened in its current form towards the end of 2023. It's a sport lover's paradise with floor to ceiling front windows providing lots of light. Many TVs can be found throughout, alongside sporting slogans and memorabilia. The layout is simple, with a bar to one side and benches and high tables as seating. The toilets are located upstairs, accessed through a door at the rear of the room. I arrived to find the group in good spirits, whilst we awaited the arrival of Dean, who was making his own way to York by train following a trip to London. I wished I'd gotten here sooner, purely because of the food portions. Some of the guys had ordered and the size of the meals was something to behold. I'd arrived shortly before the kitchen cutoff though and I'd not long eaten so I'd make do with beer until later on. Although, my beer choices would be somewhat limited. I wasn't entirely surprised to see that the bar was devoid of handpulls, or of real ale of any sort, so I limited myself to Brixton Pale Ale on keg. I'm not sure of the price, as we went into a kitty at this point so were buying in rounds. We ended up staying at The Terrace for a while, not least because we wanted to try our hands at the speed quiz for the chance to win £50 in cash, which would certainly have helped our night. Try we did, but no such luck, although one of our teams somehow fluked their way to being runners up. 

Time was getting on by the time the quiz had finished. We made a quick stop at Valhalla, primarily because I wanted to show them all what the fuss was about, whereupon I volunteered to be league commissioner for next season and Tom ended up annoying everyone. As is tradition. Before long though, we left York's bastion of rock and metal behind and headed over to where we'd be watching the game. My job in the league, such as it is, seems to be finding pubs, either to drink in or watch the game in. York not being known for its abundance of sporting venues made this a tougher task than you'd expect but I had found somewhere and I had booked us a table. Located on Lendal, conveniently close to where Amy and I were staying, is The Old Bank.

If the name of the place doesn't give away its history, than its appearance and layout certainly should. The Old Bank is just that. Beyond the original columned frontage, it is now a busy and popular pub, aimed at the younger crowd but welcoming to all. It was very busy when we arrived and full of NFL fans, brimming with anticipation for the game. Who would win? Chiefs or Eagles? Would the Chiefs go down in history as the first team to win 3 consecutive Superbowls? Would the Eagles do everyone a favour and make sure that didn't happen? How soon would Tom give up or fall asleep? We all had many questions has we found our table, not far from the main door and right underneath a TV screen, of which this place has dozens. The Old Bank is far bigger inside than it looks. The interior is large and open plan, with the bar tucked into one corner. The ceilings are high and there is lots of floor space, with high tables, benches and traditional seating strewn throughout. To the rear, a staircase leads down to another level, with another bar, more seating, pool tables and access to a substantial garden. The ground floor, where we were located, also featured pool tables, as well as a dart board and fruit machine. This was definitely a good place to watch the game and I was pleased with my decision to book here. This decision looked even wiser when I noticed the handpulls on the bar, 3 of the 4 of which were in use. Whilst one of them was offering Lilley's Mango, the ale choices were between Landlord and Rudgate Viking. I stuck with the Landlord for the duration, although I did also ensure that I stayed hydrated as the night wore on. Again, as we were in rounds, I'm not aware of the price for beer here. I can confirm though, that the Landlord was in decent form, often a rarity in student pubs.

We settled in for the game and what a game it was. Not only did the Eagles win, they well and truly pulverised the Chiefs with a ferocious defensive display. In all the years that I've been following the NFL, I've never seen a team so comprehensively destroyed. And that was even before halftime. The final score, 40-22, flattered the Chiefs who, truth be told, did not deserve anything from the game. As predicted, Tom disappeared before the third quarter. Less predictably, I ordered a mixed grill to keep me going. By the time the game was over, everyone was happy though exhausted. And so, Superbowl LIX, and, from a personal perspective, my 38th birthday, had been a roaring success. I made my way back around the corner to the hotel, hoping to claw a few hours sleep. 

Monday arrived. I awoke, after about 4 hours sleep, decidedly groggy but, after a delicious breakfast and a little bit more of a nap, I felt revitalised for a full day in York. Amy had nipped out to the York Ghost Merchants whilst I was getting my act together and, upon her return, we headed back out. We had two things planned for Monday. We would be revisiting the Jorvik Viking Centre, a highlight from a previous trip, that afternoon and we had plans to hit Brew York for delicious beer and food that evening. That meant that we had plenty of time to play with in the meantime. We began our day with the obligatory wander to the Shambles, where Amy treated herself to some rings from a new Celtic jewellery shop. A fortifying pint was needed by this stage and one of our favourites had already opened. The Golden Fleece is always a place we have to visit and so we did again, partaking in a pint each of Brew York's Calmer Chameleon, weirdly the first Brew York beer we'd seen on cask so far. Whilst we enjoyed our pints in this wonderfully atmospheric hostelry, we added to our itinerary. With our trip to the Viking Centre planned for later, we definitely thought it made sense to get ourselves into the Viking mindset. So, guess where we went......... After a couple of hours, a couple of pints and a bloody excellent food platter at Valhalla, we made the short walk to Coppergate, where the Viking Centre is located. We thoroughly enjoyed our return visit, even more than we had the first time. It's still mind blowing to think that thousands of years of history lie under our very feet and seeing the Viking artefacts in context really helps to immerse you in the experience. Even with the animatronic Viking villagers, and the thousands of items, and the recovered skeletons, it's also a bit surreal seeing a, frankly gigantic, preserved poo up close.

With our excursion to Viking era Jorvik complete, our attention turned to some new pubs. Brew York wouldn't open for a couple more hours so we had the time to tick some more new venues off the list. The first of these is the newest addition to the York pub scene. Making our way back to the Shambles, we visited The Kings Inn. 

Formerly a restaurant, the Kings Inn opened its doors last year. Owned and operated by a Canadian ex-pat, the pub's interior is an homage to His Majesty King Charles III and the royal family in general. Even the name reflects a royal occasion, when the King visited York, and is also quite a good pun. The pub is deceptively spacious, stretching back along way from the street outside. The pubs prides itself on its food offering, providing 'British tapas' and traditional British dishes, albeit with a modern twist. The bar is to the right as you enter the room, with low seating throughout. Exposed brickwork and beams dominate. The decoration is a celebration of all things British, with photos of the King and other royals, as well as, oddly given the context, Guy Fawkes, alongside historical photos of York. Quotes and catchphrases are displayed and there is also a massive mirror directly opposite the bar. Prior to its life as a restaurant, a pub also stood here. Known as the Eagle & Child, it was one of York's oldest, dating from the 1700s. The name refers to the crest of the Stanley family and relates to a legend that an illegitimate son was found below a tree in which an eagle was nesting. The name is now held by a pub on High Petergate. Back to its current incarnation though. There is one handpull on the bar, although this was sadly not in use when we arrived. The pub sells a variety of keg products under the 'Shambles' brand name and so I went for the Shambles Draught, which I would soon regret when it turned out to be a lager. Half of that and a Diet Coke for Amy totalled £7.20. As much as I'd picked the wrong beer, it wasn't the worst thing in the world. The Kings Inn was a pleasant surprise. We hadn't expected it to be as big or as welcoming as it was. It's certainly an interesting and welcome new addition to York's drinking scene. Despite this being a new venue, the building itself is old and has retained something of its past. I don't speak just of the ambience. The pub is allegedly haunted. The ghost of a man who was poisoned by a butcher over an unpaid debt is said to frequent the property. Always pay your tabs. 

Leaving the grandeur of the Kings Inn behind, we had one more stop to make before we ventured to Brew York. Heading back out of the Shambles, we crossed the road and headed down Fossgate, where we visited The Hop. 

This is a venue specialising in real ale, craft beer and pizza. Operated by Ossett brewery, it is often a showcase for their beers, as well as those from Salt Beer Factory, who are now owned by Ossett. This is a very large venue. The entrance leads into a front bar area. The bar is a reverse J shape and occupies the top part of a split level layout. To the rear, down a small flight of steps is a larger dining space, with a stone pizza oven and open kitchen visible at the back. Seating is primarily standard tables and chairs, though there are some high stools and barrel tables. The ceilings are high, allowing for extra light. The decor is bright and modern and utilises beer-related objects in interesting ways, such as a row of wooden barrels on a shelf above the door. The venue is also dog friendly, but only in the upstairs section. The bar is very well stocked with beer, with 11 handpulls and 7 keg lines. Unsurprisingly, beers from Ossett and associated breweries dominate. 9 of the 11 handpulls were in use during our visit with beers from the Ossett range namely, White Rat (tripled), Rattucino, Yorkshire Blonde (doubled), Silver King and Excelsius. Two handpulls also dispense real cider, in this case Weston's Old Rosie and a Whisky and Hot Toddy Mulled Cider, which sounds both delicious and bonkers. On the keg front, Salt beers have pride of place, although guest beers do feature. The keg choices on the day were Salt Alpacalypse, Salt Jute, Salt Serge, Salt Huck-a-Back, Salt x Turning Point Alien Ldomination, Fierce Beer Gingerbread Moose and Vault City Black Grape Buckie. Knowing that I would be drinking craft beer for the rest of the evening once we got to Brew York, and with nothing on cask really taking my fancy, I turned my attention to the offerings from Salt. With a name like Alpacalypse, there was no way that I wasn't going to go for that specific beer. Amy went for the Alien Ldomination, a collaboration between Salt and Turning Point. 'Ldomination' isn't a typo by the way. It's actually called that. I don't know why but it's stressing out my spell checker. A half of each set us back £6.35. We withdrew from the bar, not before admiring the Alpacalypse glassware, and took a seat at a high table nearby. I was impressed by the atmosphere in The Hop. It's yet another venue that had been on the radar for a while after bypassing us on previous trips. The beer was great, just as I'd hoped. Alpacalypse (4.3%) is billed as a session IPA. It's hazy and crisp, and packed with tropical and citrus flavours that all result in a refreshing finish. Excellent stuff indeed. 

We took our time finishing our beers here but the anticipation of what was to come was killing us. Soon, we headed down the road to Brew York, where an evening was spent drinking fantastic beer and indulging in superb bao buns and loaded fries. If there's a better way to spend a Monday evening, I don't know what it is. It was really wonderful being back at Brew York, and we'd made the effort to stay for longer as we knew we weren't driving the next day. Cue purchases from the onsite shop and then a stop off at House of Trembling Madness on Stonegate to purchase more cans before we got back to the hotel. York is bad for the finances but great for the mood. 

After an excellent, and much needed, full night's sleep, it was Tuesday, our last full day and one that would ultimately be a lot more eventful, and a lot more terrifying, than we imagined. Breakfast consumed, we set off again. We had a couple of activities in mind. The first was a visit to the Bar Convent Living Heritage Centre, a museum and still active convent that tells the history of York's religious persecutions and includes some relics. We would also be revisiting the York Castle Museum after our previous visit was truncated, before the day would end with that most famous of York activities, a ghost walk. 

Prior to all that though, there was time for more shopping and it was my turn to give a substantial amount of hard earned cash to the York Ghost Merchants. I'll tell you this for nothing: York in February is quiet. Queues for the more touristy things are virtually non-existent. Yes, it's colder but it's worth it for getting to things more quickly. With my purchases deposited back at the hotel, we headed out again, this time in the direction of Mickelgate. Just beyond Mickegate Bar, on Blossom Street, is the Bar Convent. For those not in the know, whilst it is now also a museum and a school, it is also the oldest fully active Catholic convent in the UK. It was established in 1686 as a safe haven for Catholics during a time of persecution from the staunchly Protestant monarchy. It was founded and operated in secret and has a chapel inside, built in such as way as to be hidden from the outside. Without being in the chapel, you would never know that it existed. Entry to the exhibition is £7 per person but the cafe and the chapel can be accessed free of charge. We had come here by recommendation after our last visit to York, when we were told the chapel houses the severed, miraculously preserved hand of Margaret Clitherow, patron saint of the city and known as the 'pearl of York', who was martyred in 1586 by being pressed to death. Other religious relics here include the femur bones of two martyred priests and, surprisingly, the oldest authenticated piece of the 'true' cross, housed in a reliquary. You'd think they'd make more of a fuss about this particular item but it's just listed in their literature, almost in passing. Whatever your religious leanings or beliefs, the convent is worth a visit. It provides a fascinating insight into the religious persecution of the 16th and 17th centuries. If only the world in general had learned its lessons. We enjoyed our time here. The chapel is very peaceful and it was worth seeing the hand of St. Margaret Clitherow, unblemished in its glass container. Following our completion of the exhibition, we had a brief wander into the gardens and then very nearly wandered into a school classroom before we realised we were going the wrong way. 

After our educational and atmospheric time at Bar Convent, the pubs were calling. Luckily, one such establishment stands directly opposite the convent, on the other side of Blossom Street. We crossed over and entered our next location, completely unprepared for what was about to happen, at The Windmill.

Now Grade II listed, The Windmill began life as two cottages in the 17th century. The oldest part of the pub sits on the corner of Blossom Street and Queen Street, although another building separated it from the latter until 1911. The bay windows to the front, and the internal staircase, date from the mid 18th century. The building is first recorded as a pub in a deed of 1735 when it was owned by the Lee family, who had previously leased a windmill on Mount Street. The pub's name is thought to be testament to this connection. Shortly after the Lee family took ownership, the pub was extended along Blossom Street, with a further expansion to the south, including a carriage arch, added in 1820. A stable range was added to the rear. In 1890, the building was extended again, this time along Queen Street, which saw it incorporate a neighbouring 18th century building. It received its Grade II listing in 1968 and has been owned by Greene King since 2022. The Windmill has a bit of a reputation locally for being one of the most haunted pubs in York. It's important to address this now as it will be relevant to what follows. The most famous haunting is that of a young girl, who was tragically run over by a horse and cart outside the pub. She is believed to still roam the building, in particular the ladies toilets, where female members of staff have refused to enter the area alone after a disembodied child's voice was heard from an empty cubicle. Glasses are also known to smash and fly off shelves of their own accord. Footsteps are heard throughout the building, particularly on the upper floors, off limits to the public, when nobody is around. A male figure, thought to be an ostler (someone who looks after horses) has been seen wandering the upstairs corridor and descending the stairs. He doesn't appear very often but is almost always mistaken for a worker. He is also thought to be responsible for the appearance of an ice cold mist, approximately six feet high and three feet wide, that manifests in the upper corridor before suddenly disappearing. A more disturbing apparition is a man wearing a ball and chain who appears in the cellar. He is blamed for heavy footsteps. Who he is or why he is so encumbered is unknown. 

We entered The Windmill, through the side door it turned out, and were directed around to the bar by the landlord who greeted us. The layout of the pub is a mix of modern and older styles. The bar is central, with a big open bar area at one end and a smaller, more intimate snug space to one side, where the older part of the building is. A more modern extension has provided extra dining and drinking space to the rear, with a high, beamed ceiling and skylights. A beer garden can be found beyond this. Seating is a mixture of high and low tables and chairs. The usual Greene King aesthetic abounds, with lots of TVs for sport and lots of promotional posters for drinks offers and upcoming events. This being Greene King, there is of course real ale available. 4 hand pumps are present. As well as offering Greene King IPA and the Six Nations seasonal beer Scrumdown, these were also offering guest beers from Brew York, in the shape of Tonkoko and Clementine Chameleon. Never ones to turn down the chance to have Tonkoko, it was a pint for each of us which, with CAMRA discount, amounted to £11.02. We took our beers to a table away from the bar, slightly hidden from view by dividing pillars, and not too far from the toilets. Amy went to relieve herself whilst I took in our surroundings, as well as a few sips of the Tonkoko which, it has to be said was cracking. It's a very good beer generally and here it was very well kept indeed. A definite triumph. A few moments later, Amy returned to the table, looking decidedly uneasy. She said that the toilets had an uncomfortable feeling and she hadn't liked being in there, having felt like she was being watched. We were in the process of discussing the pub's history, and the stories linked to it, when we heard it. The sound that, even almost two weeks later, sends an icy blade of fear right into my spine. We heard, clear as day, unmistakably, a child's laugh. Pandemonium ensued. Amy jumped up, swearing. I was very much taken aback and, to be honest, I can't be sure how I even reacted. Amy shot around towards the bar where she was addressed by the landlord, who looked confused but not surprised. I quickly followed, as Amy asked him whether he'd experienced anything himself. He confessed that he personally hadn't but his staff had, and he admitted that he did move around the building a lot faster when the lights were off. He also showed us an area of the snug where a little bit about the ghostly history is written on the wall and added the tidbit that a door in the attic likes to open of its own accord. We were thoroughly rattled. Did we flee into the winter sunshine? No. Did we relocate to the other side of the pub? Yes. Yes we did. Talking about it afterwards, as we drank our much needed pints, we have no rational explanation for what we heard. Skeptics will say that we primed ourselves for something to happen because we knew about the hauntings. If that's the case, why didn't that happen in any of the other haunted pubs we've visited? Ultimately, we know what we heard. It was clear, coherent and distinct from the background music. If I had to hazard a paranormal theory, I think the little girl was making herself known because we were talking about her. The laugh sounded mischievous so I think she was making light of the fact that she'd scared the aforementioned staff members. Either way, it was an unexpected surprise that neither of us will forget in a hurry.

Pints drained and undergarments lightly soiled, we headed away from The Windmill. We had booked our Castle Museum visit slot for later that afternoon so had time for another, hopefully less terrifying, pub beforehand. Heading back through Micklegate Bar, we headed straight on until we reached a venue perched above the banks of the Ouse. Our next stop would be Tank & Paddle.

This modern, craft beer bar was previously a branch of Missoula before conversion to its current iteration. It sits at the far end of Micklegate, on Bridge Street, overlooking the river. The interior befits its modern outward appearance. Largely open-plan, the seating areas surround a central bar. An area of booths stretches along one side with the rest of the seating consisting of low tables and comfy chairs. A large patio area is to the rear, likely popular at the height of summer, as opposed to the cold days of early February. It's light and airy, with TVs throughout and neon signs interspersed with promotional posters. Despite the emphasis on craft beer, there is a bank of hand pumps, 4 in total, although only half were operational during our visit. The options here were Theakston's Best and Timothy Taylor Boltmaker, neither of which particularly interested me at that point in time. Instead, I gravitated towards the craft beer selection, stretched across 8 keg lines and consisting of the following: Anarchy Dead Island, Asahi (not craft, but whatever), Brew York Sublime, Brewdog Hazy Jane, Brew York City of Angels, Beavertown Lunar Haze, Thornbridge AM:PM and Anarchy Blonde Star. After a few moments of deliberation, I opted for the Blonde Star, whilst Amy went for the Hazy Jane (£14.10 for a pint of each). We headed to some comfy chairs opposite the bar and spent some time waiting for our pulse rates to return to normal after our last experience. Blonde Star (4.1%) is a light bodied pale beer, with lemon, grapefruit and passion fruit flavours. It has a slight bready mouthfeel but remains crisp and refreshing. It's certainly a drinkable enough beer, although it could have done with a bit more body. We started to relax a bit more as we enjoyed our pints, accompanied by an eclectic soundtrack and the sound of the duty manager phoning customers with food bookings to let them know that the kitchen had had to close due to some sort of technical issue. We never found out what but, judging from the side of the conversations that we heard, some people were less than happy. Such is hospitality. I've said it before and I'll say it again: don't be a dick to staff. 

Calmer and revitalised, we made our move. Heading over to the York Castle Museum, we arrived earlier than we'd booked but were able to enter regardless. Readers of previous York blogs may recall that our previous visit here ended up being shorter than planned due to half the building being closed following the discovery of dodgy concrete. Happily though, it's fully open now and we were looking forward to fully exploring the delights within, the highlight of which is a fully reconstructed Victorian street. The museum is interesting and fun in equal measure and there's certainly an eerie feel to the street environment. I bet it's weird being in there at night. The now reopened part of the museum was the highlight of our visit and we were glad that we'd made the effort to return. By the time we left the museum, it was past lunch time and we were both hungry. We made the decision to revisit the Three Tuns, just off Coppergate, where we enjoyed some very tasty sandwiches and a pint. With our ghost walk not booked until 8pm, there was still a bit of time ahead of us. We already knew that we'd be spending a lot of that time at Valhalla as it was conveniently close to where we needed to meet, plus it's awesome. Before that, we decided to tick one final new pub off of the list. Retracing our steps back through the Shambles and King's Square, we took a left onto Church Street, whereupon we found the Golden Lion.

This single-roomed Greene King operated pub began life as a private residence, when it was occupied by a wealthy local cotton trader and mill owner. It was first licensed to sell ale in 1771. Two years later, it sold at auction for £715 and was sold again for £710 in in 1828. A description of the pub in 1902 referred to it having 3 bedrooms, and 3 front entrances but no stabling, and only one toilet for both customers and the resident family to use. In 1971, the pub was extensively modernised. As this was the year of York's 1900th anniversary, it was renamed the Nineteenth Hundred, which I think we can agree is a terrible name for a pub. In 1983, a minor refit was carried out and the pub was renamed to the Golden Lion by customer request. Inside, the pub makes the most of its one room layout. The bar is to the left hand side, with seating situated throughout. Pillars and partition walls divide up the footprint slightly. Old photos and newspaper articles, relating to York and the arrival of the railway, are displayed on the walls. The toilets are to the rear. A bank of 4 handpulls sits on the bar. During our visit, one of these was offering Lilley's Mulled Cider, with the remaining trio given over to Theakston Old Peculier, Greene King IPA and Greene King Abbot Ale. A half of Abbot and a Diet Coke came in at £6.75. We managed to find a relatively secluded table, tucked into an alcove on the far side of the pub. The Abbot was fairly standard. Not horrendous but not outstanding. I sincerely wish I'd opted for the Old Peculier instead. As far as Greene King pubs go, this isn't the worst. It does suffer from a distinct lack of character compared to others of this sort within their extensive collection. As a place to visit for a quick half though, it more than does the job. 

Our time in York was, sadly, coming to an end but it wasn't quite over yet. Following the completion of our drinks, we headed back over to Patrick Pool, where a pint in Pivni became a protracted stay in Valhalla, accompanied by pints, rock music and an excellent cheese board. Before long, it was back out into the Yorkshire night for the final activity of our trip. Making our way to the designated meeting place, we were greeted by our tour guide, Dalton, who, accompanied by Tim the Limb, would be regaling us all with spooky and gruesome tales on The Deathly Dark Tour of York. Amongst the sinister stories and terrifying tales were the laughter of murdered children that still echoes through the streets of Bedern; the vicious and infamous Barguest, York's famous devil dog and harbinger of doom; the ghost of Ivar the Boneless who makes known his displeasure at the modern world in the most Viking of ways: by, er, setting off fire alarms in a shopping centre and knocking things over in the Body Shop. Then, of course, is the possibly-not-true story of the chicken shop haunted by that most famous of fiends, a poultrygeist. A good time was had by all over the course of the next 90 minutes, culminating in an atmospheric scene, at the base of Clifford's Tower, under the cover of night, as we all bid our farewells and slunk away into the darkness. All that was left was to return to our hotel and prepare to leave in the morning. 

The following day brought with it a tinge of sadness. Our time in York, at least this time, was done. Once again, it had been fantastic. Spending my 38th birthday in one of our favourite places certainly took the edge off of the existential crisis. There is something magical, almost ethereal, about this place. History, and the stories it creates, hangs in the air around every corner and curls through every snickelway. Whether we're revisiting old haunts, finding new places to love, or a mixture of the two, we've never had a dull time in York. This city keeps on giving. Every trip shows us something different. From the ghostly tales, to the independent shops, there's always something that will call us back. At the beating heart of all of it, there are York's pubs. Some are new, some are very old, but each has it's own stories to tell. The new ones we visited on this trip are the latest chapters to add to an ever unfolding story. As ever, York was a blast. How long until we're back? Well, you never know. It might be sooner than you think.

Pub of the trip: Golden Slipper. A unique olde worlde establishment with a warm welcome.

Beer of the trip: Brew York Tonkoko. Perfectly kept and bloody gorgeous as it should be.

Biggest surprise: The Kings Inn. Much more expansive and interesting than it looks from the outside.