A Ramble 'round Ripley

Yesterday, taking full advantage of a week off work, I took myself over the border into Derbyshire, a county that I always enjoy visiting and have fond memories of from previous trips. The object of my desire was a small town in the east of the county, one that is not so well known for its pubs, but that I was hoping would reveal itself under closer inspection. I would be spending the afternoon in Ripley.

Ripley is a town in the Amber Valley borough of Derbyshire. Little information remains as to when Ripley was founded, but it appears in the 1086 Domesday Book, when it was held by a man called Levenot.

In 1251 Henry III granted a charter for "one market one day a week, on Wednesday, at [the] manor of Ryppeleg: and one fair each year lasting three days, on the Vigil Day and Morrow of St Helen". Ripley Fair antedates Nottingham Goose Fair. The market day was later altered to Saturdays, with an extra market on Fridays.

Medieval Ripley was just a few stone cottages and farms around a village green, with a few dwellings further afield. Corn was ground at a mill owned by the Abbot of Darley. In 1291, Ripley had "two water-mills with fish ponds".

The Ripley area has been industrialised since the late 18th century. One of the earliest firms to take advantage of local mineral resources was the Butterley Company. It was formed in 1790 by Benjamin Outram and Francis Beresford. Jessop and Wright joined as partners in 1791. Benjamin Outram and Jessop were pioneering engineers best known for their input into the rail industry and their engineering of the Cromford Canal. Outram developed the L-shaped flange rail and Jessop engineered the cast iron fish belly rail. The Little Eaton Gangway project was one of the engineering feats they completed. The engineering part of the company closed and the site of the Butterley Company was demolished in 2010. The company was latterly in three parts, Butterley Engineering, Butterley Brick and Butterley Aggregates (all separate companies). Over the last 200 years these have dealt with steelworks, coal mining, quarrying, railway, foundry and brickworks. One of the best-known examples of the company's work is the arched roof of St Pancras railway station in London, recently restored as an international terminal. Recent major Butterley achievements were the design and construction of the Falkirk Wheel, a canal boat-lift funded by the Millennium Commission and the Spinnaker Tower seen in Portsmouth Harbour as the focus of its regeneration.

Ripley was also a mining community, with collieries owned by the Butterley Company until the Coal Nationalisation Act of 1947. These included Ripley colliery (1863–1948), Britain colliery (1918–1946), Ormonde 1908–1970, and other pits at Upper and Lower Hartshay, Whiteley, Waingroves, Bailey Brook, Exhibition, Loscoe, New Langley and Denby Hall.

Going in, I knew very little about Ripley other than it being the home town of Barnes Wallis, inventor of the bouncing bomb, and, more recently, also of metal musician and producer Andy Sneap, latterly a touring guitarist for Judas Priest. I was interested to see whether the town's pubs would throw up any hidden gems or whether, what might well be considered another run-of-the-mill industrial town, would prove to be just that. 

Conveniently, getting to Ripley from Nottingham is relatively easy. A bus leaves the city centre a couple of times an hour and takes around an hour and a quarter to reach the town. And so I arrived, on a decidedly inclement Wednesday afternoon, a little after midday, into Ripley's Market Place, where the bus (the Trent Barton Rainbow One) terminates. Luckily, for my purposes at least, a considerable number of Ripley's pubs are in close proximity to both the Market Place and each other, with no less than 5 of the ones on my list visible when I disembarked the bus. The first two stops on my agenda face the market place directly, are next door to each other, and exactly opposite the bus stop. All that remained, was to decide which one to hit first. Decision made, I crossed over the road and began my day of exploration, beginning at The Three Horse Shoes.

What was formerly a Wards pub, reopened in 2018 after a period of closure from its previous incarnation as a nightclub. The original name has been reinstated since the pub was taken into the fold of Amber Taverns, the current owners. The pub has also benefited from a tasteful refurbishment, both internally and externally. Inside, one door leads into a single room, divided up into different areas through the use of internal partition walls and pillars. An area along the front of the building consists of banquette seating and scrubbed wood tables and chairs. There is a smaller, snug-like area in one corner, with high tables and chairs and, to the rear, a well-appointed outside space with wooden furniture and booths, and a covered smoking shelter with its own TV. Televisions can be found throughout, along with a dartboard and fruit machines. Photos of old Ripley, along with various bric-a-brac make up the rest of the decor. The bar takes up most of the far wall, with 3 handpumps located on it. It was already a good start to see that all 3 of these were in use and offering a choice between Theakston's Old Peculier, Courage Director's and Dancing Duck Ay Up. Whereas I often don't tend to go below 4%, the Ay Up was certainly the least weighty of the available options and so I began with that, retreating to a table in the snug area to enjoy it. The pub is currently having another, much more minor, facelift and there was a decorator applying paint to the inside of the front window frames, the smell of paint in the air and 'wet paint' signs on the main door as a useful warning. I was pleased to have arrived safely in the town and to be out of the rain for a few minutes. The Three Horse Shoes certainly had the feel of a pleasant, town pub that's well frequented. Indeed, even in the few minutes that I was there, there were a number of other customers in, all of whom I got the impression were regulars. They've certainly done a good job of the place as the whole effect is very modern without detracting from the character of the building. The big question, though: how was the beer? In short, it was OK. Just OK. I've had Ay Up before and it's been better than it was here but it was by no means the worst beer I've had. It also seemed to be a touch on the hazy side which is unusual for this beer if memory serves. Still, it definitely wasn't the worst way to start my day in Ripley and was an effective thirst quencher to welcome me to the town. 

As mentioned earlier, the first two pubs of the day are next door to each other so, beer polished off, it was time to head next door and see what I would discover at The White Lion. 

The White Lion is part of the Marston's estate and is an updated version of a traditional two-room pub. A front door leads to doors to right and left which both lead into the same area, where a central bar serves two sides of what is now a single room. The previous two room layout has been knocked through into a single unit with a pillar at the end of the bar hinting at where the divide previously would have been. The interior is light and bright with colourful slogans adorned on the walls. Seating is wooden tables and chairs, arranged opposite the bar in both areas, with a single high table positioned between the bar and the front door, roughly in the space where the dividing wall would once have stood. A large TV takes up a chunk of wall at the end of one room with the opposite end hosting a dartboard. The bar is square and relatively small, with two handpulls, one on either side. However, this soon proved to be misleading. Even though both handpulls were adorned with a pump clip for Wychwood Hobgoblin Gold, the beer was not available. I immediately made the assumption that real ale is only available at busier times, like weekends. To the pub's credit, the pump clips were turned around to indicate the lack of the product. I just happened to ask on the off-chance. Still, not wanting to go back out in the rain just yet, and having just made friends with a dog, I stayed and opted for Guinness instead. Taking a seat at the aforementioned high table, I enjoyed my pint and politely eavesdropped on the conversation taking place amongst a group of regulars sat opposite me. Curiously, Ripley is one of those places that has both a White and Red Lion. However, as the Red Lion is part of a national chain under the totalitarian grip of a certain Mr. Martin, it will not be featuring here. The White Lion, again, was not an unpleasant pub in which to spend some time and the Guinness was rather good. I realise that going into a pub for real ale and choosing to stay when there isn't any might be a bit galling for some but, as someone who works in the pub trade, I can't go into a pub and not buy something. Every little helps everyone, especially at the moment. 

So far, my day was hit and miss. I was hoping things would trend more in an upward direction at my next stop. Leaving the White Lion, I crossed back over the main road, to where stop number 3 is located, overlooking the market place and at a 90 degree angle to the previous pub. Next up: The Thorn Tree.

This former Marston's pub is now owned by Pub People which, if nothing else, gave me cause for hope as, more often than not, their pubs tend to take real ale seriously. Inside, one large room is divided up into smaller areas, with standard low seating to one side and an area of high tables behind the front windows, overlooking the square. Smaller areas can be found to the right and rear and the toilets are accessible through a door at the end of the bar. The bar itself is slightly curved and roughly central with a, slightly alarming, step up to the counter, making it feel like you're towering over everything. That might not be too bad for people of average height but I'm 5'11'' so it was a bit unnerving. On the plus side, despite the mild sense of vertigo, it did enable me to fully peruse the bank of 6 handpumps, of which 4 were in use, purveying tasty beverages. The choices on the day were Beermats Matte Black, Purity Mad Goose and Falstaff A Fistful of Hops, with the remaining pump given over to Lilley's Mango cider. It was a no-brainer in picking the Falstaff and I took it to one of the high tables opposite the bar, out of sight of the small cluster of regulars playing a board game with the landlord. The beer was good. I haven't had many beers by Falstaff but I was rewarded for my decision. Fistful of Hops (4.5%) is golden amber in colour with powerful hop aromas and undertones of citrus with long hoppy flavours going into the aftertaste. At this point, it was the best beer of the day but, three pubs in, that wasn't saying much. I was feeling confident that things were on the up. 

Leaving the Thorn Tree, I turned right and immediately right again onto Market Street. Continuing down this, I identified both of my next two destinations, located virtually opposite each other near a road junction. The first of these, on the side of the road on which I now found myself, was the Pear Tree Hotel.

This pre-Victorian pub was previously owned by Greene King but has been significantly improved and refurbished by the current owners who reopened the premises in 2019. The pub is heavily driven by sport, as evidenced by the number of TVs throughout, as well as a pool table, dart board and photos of, and quotes by, Muhammad Ali displayed throughout. Inside, the pub is one large, L-shaped room served by a single bar. At the rear is a covered extension which also boasts a TV as well as an outside spirit bar for special events. The decor is modern and to a high standard, with high wood tables and chairs, soft lighting, bare wood on some walls and quieter alcove style spaces. The bar takes up a lot of one wall, on the short arm of the 'L'. The long arm extends to the rear of the property towards the garden. Three handpulls are located on the bar here and I was given a choice between Morland Old Speckled Hen, Thornbridge Jaipur and Greene King Abbot Ale. In such company, there was only going to be one winner and, mere moments later, I was retreating to a table with Jaipur in my hand. A note for anyone who might visit here: payment is by cash only, something seen less and less often these days but there are still a small number of pubs that do it. The Jaipur was great. It's a cracking beer at the best of times and it was a pleasant surprise to find it so well kept in a location that I would normally not have expected to see it. 

Things were looking up and, I only had a few feet to travel to reach the stop on my tour of Ripley. Making use of a nearby pedestrian crossing, I made my way over Market Street to the next location, the nearby Crompton Arms.

Very much a town centre pub, the Crompton Arms is a refurbished version of an older pub. Inside there is one large seating area, with a moderately sized bar against one wall. TVs can be found on multiple walls throughout the premises and seating is primarily of the traditional scrubbed wood tables and chairs. This was by far the busiest pub at the time I wandered in, with a mix of locals including workers and young families. The bar was quiet though, allowing me easy access to the pair of handpulls offering Greene King Abbot Ale and Timothy Taylor Landlord. It took me a few minutes to get served, largely because I was stood on the wrong side of a dividing pillar so the lady behind the bar was unable to see me until my presence was pointed out to her by one of the locals. Eventually though, Landlord poured, I grabbed a chair at one of the tables nearest the bar and spent some time both taking in my surroundings, and pretending to know enough about international cricket to watch it on the TV in front of me. The Landlord was in good condition and very drinkable, which is always nice to see. As ubiquitous as it tends to be, some pubs struggle to keep it properly so the fact that they've done so here is good to see.

By the time I left the Crompton Arms, the rain had abated, at least for now and, following a brief respite for some food, there was a fair bit more walking involved for the back half of the itinerary. Turning left out of the Crompton Arms, I took the first left onto Crossley Street. Following this all the way to the end, I came across my next destination. Instantly recognisable, this is The Angel.

Looking for all the world like a church or some other kind of religious building, The Angel can be easily spotted due to the 8 foot angel statue above the front door. Inside, the decor is eclectic. Faux gold angel sculptures decorate the walls throughout and the seating is a mix of traditional high tables combined with red leather banquettes, some of which have been incorporated into windowsills and constructed over radiators as well as sofas in the front area. An upstairs mezzanine area has additional seating and is reached up an iron staircase. There's almost a clandestine 'speakeasy' style feeling about the place, aided by there only being windows on one side. The bar is L-shaped and occupies a corner space. First a disclaimer: this pub won't be around for much longer. In February, planning permission was granted to convert the building into two townhouses, which means that this unique pub will soon be lost. It's an absolute tragedy that this is being allowed to happen. The pub's last confirmed day of trade is April 3rd so there's a strong chance that it's already closed by the time you're reading this. Yet another pub consigned to history and the perils of capitalism. In light of this, I was very glad that I'd gotten the chance to visit before it was too late. In terms of the beer selection on the day in question, one of the two handpulls was in use, with Sharp's Doom Bar available. This was in good condition and went down surprisingly quickly. At the time of writing, the pub operates split opening hours and is closed from 3-7pm Monday-Thursday, so I'd made it with an hour to spare before the mid-afternoon closing time. There were a number of locals in, all lamenting about the pub's imminent demise. It was quite sad to hear. By all accounts, there's no legitimate reason why the pub can't continue. Greed on behalf of property developers and the local council seems to be the deciding factor in the decision. Still, if you, or anyone you know, is in the market for an 8 foot statue of an angel, you know where to come.

Bidding farewell to the Angel, I emerged into weather that seemed, temporarily at least, to be holding off the rain. This was just as well, as I had a little bit of time to kill before the next scheduled pubs were due to open. This gave me a little bit more time to explore the town in more detail and I spent a few minutes gathering my thoughts in the local churchyard and taking a few photos before the clock ticked round to my next stop. Making my way down Butterley Hill, my next intended destination was supposed to be The Nags Head, a rather unassuming building on the right hand side. However, for reasons that I've still been unable to fathom, it didn't appear to be opening, at least not at the time advertised. Luckily, the next location stands opposite and was one I was very much looking forward to. Onwards, instead, to the Talbot Taphouse.

 

Now more correctly known as The Talbot, the pub occupies a traditional Victorian 'flat-iron' shaped building at the apex of a road junction. The entrance is reached up a short flight of steps which leads to a beer-lover's paradise. The bar takes up the centre of the room, against one wall. To the left, a long bench seat wraps around the wall, with tables and stools positioned in front of it as seating, and a log fire occupies a space on one wall. To the right, is a slightly smaller area which is often used for live music and there is a door next to this that leads to the toilets (mind the step!). The beer choice is impressive. As well as a can fridge at the end of the bar and several keg beers, there are also 9 handpumps. The Talbot is Good Beer Guide listed for 2023 and is the local CAMRA Branch Pub of the Year for 2022. I was expecting very good things. When I arrived, 5 of the handpumps were in use with a variety of options. At first glance, the options were Thornbridge Apricity, Little Critters Pineapple American Wheat, Lenton Lane Honey & Caramel Twist & Stout, Hop Kettle Neonate and Thornbridge Jamestown. Another two beers were added to this whilst I was in the pub, in the form of Caveman Palaolithic and Leatherbritches Ashbourne IPA. Initially though, I decided Neonate from Hop Kettle was the way to go. This proved to be a great idea. Hop Kettle are based in Swindon and Cricklade in Wiltshire and Neonate (4.5%) is an award winning (SIBA Bronze Medal) session IPA. Brewed with Citra, Chinook and Centennial, it's hoppy, fruity and very drinkable. I was blown away by this beer and by the Talbot in general. There's something very welcoming and comforting about the place and I was engrossed in the large print on the nearby wall showing the pub in days gone by. Externally, very little has changed. With such a good beer choice, and the pub's reputation, I couldn't just have one here. For my second beer, I went for the Honey & Caramel version of Lenton Lane's Twist & Stout. This beer was fantastic! The smoky sweetness of the original has been given another dimension by the addition of caramel which makes it almost dessert-like whilst adding a chocolatey complexity, all without altering the ABV beyond its standard 5%. The barman clearly approved of my decision, as did I when his phone rang and the ringtone was the theme from the MCU Avengers movies. 

It seemed that tearing myself away from the Talbot would take a similarly superhuman amount of effort but succeed I did. Having quickly confirmed that the Nags Head still wasn't open, whilst simultaneously wondering why whoever lived next door to it had a picture of The Nun from the Conjuring franchise in their window, I retraced my steps back into the town centre. I had two final pubs I wanted to tick off. I decided to start with the one that was the furthest away so that I could end up closer to the bus stop for my return journey. Reaching the market place again, I turned down Market Street, following it to the very end, where I took a left at a roundabout. This took me onto Peasehill, the other main thoroughfare that leads to and from the town centre. After a few minutes walk, I crossed over the road to a rather nondescript building that, were it not for the remnants of the sign hanging on the front, I would have mistaken for a random house. This was, in fact, the Beehive Inn.

Located approximately half a mile from the centre of Ripley, this pub prides itself as a community hub, supporting local rugby and pub league teams as well as raising money for charity, particularly disabled bikers. Walking in leads to doors to either side, served by a small central bar. A third room is to the rear, as is access to the toilets and garden. At the end of the garden, in a separate building, is the Honeypot Bar, which is due to open soon and is believed to be replacing the existing premises. Inside, it's very much like being in someone's front room. The right hand room, into which I entered, features a large, log fire, big screen TV and pull down projector for live sport, and seating which is primarily banquette style with wooden tables. A selection of books, including a couple of past Good Beer Guides, occupy one corner. The small bar has 4 handpulls and also houses a spectacular selection of ciders. The Beehive has been awarded Branch Cider Pub of the Year for 2022, a testament to the choice of apple-based beverages available. Ale-wise there were 4 options, namely Dancing Duck Abduction, Dancing Duck Dark Drake, Blue Monkey Infinity IPA and Alter Ego Mr. Brown. As intrigued as I was by the Alter Ego beer, I wasn't really in the mood for bitter so, instead, I went for the Infinity IPA from Blue Monkey, a brewery I'm generally a fan of. This was in great condition and certainly revitalised me after the walk down from the town centre. I was pleased to find this place open when I arrived, not just because I desperately needed a wee! On my way back from the toilet, a drayman told me that he'd dropped off a cask and pointed to the one he'd left in the corridor, a fact that I subsequently completely forgot to pass on to the landlady. I can only assume he thought I worked there. 

The walk back up Peasehill from the Beehive was much less stressful than the walk down, no doubt helped by my now empty bladder, and it wasn't long before I was again turning into Crossley Street where, behind a row of shops sits one of Ripley's two micropubs. Known as Tom Said, I had planned on this being my final stop, due largely to its proximity to the bus stop and also because it was due to open at 5. I arrived 2 minutes before 5pm to find a disconcerting lack of activity behind the glass, and the blinds still close. Giving it the benefit of the doubt, I waited a few more minutes and did a loop of the block in the event that they'd been held up and would be opening a few minutes later than normal. When nobody materialised, I tried the door. Firmly and immovably locked. With no real idea what was happening, I couldn't really justify waiting around, especially if it ultimately turned out that the pub wouldn't be opening at all that day. So, a tad miffed but accepting my fate, I turned around and crossed to the bus stop where the Rainbow One would soon whisk me back to Nottingham, just as the rain began anew. This was particularly irritating as I already knew that Ripley's other micropub, Ripley's Little Alehouse, wasn't open on Wednesdays, so ultimately I ended up not being able to visit either.

What, then, could I take from my trip to Ripley? The one hour and 16 minute journey back to Nottingham offered plenty of time for reflection and to process my experience for the day. Overall, whilst a couple of pubs had let me down by not being open, it hadn't been a bad day. Ripley had largely been how I'd expected, a traditional town with traditional pubs, all firmly in the bracket of what you'd expect to find in any town of this ilk across the country. There were a couple of standouts but the majority were simply pleasant enough without being spectacular. Going back to an earlier phrase, I would say that 'hit and miss' is an acceptable summary of the day. I'd enjoyed exploring somewhere new and it was a pleasure to visit the Talbot, a pub that's thoroughly deserving of the accolades it has achieved. All in all, it was a refreshing experience that reinforced that towns like Ripley certainly aren't the real ale wasteland that people would assume. Sometimes, throwing caution to the wind really can pay off.

Pub of the day: The Talbot. No question about it. It deserves all the awards it's won.

Beer of the day: Lenton Lane's Honey & Caramel version of their stout is absolutely gorgeous.

Biggest surprise: The Angel. The fact that the pub is so elaborately decorated makes it even more of a travesty that it will soon be closing for good.