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.
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.
