After complaints by those rowdy C4Lf backbenchers that there are not enough Cheshire-based pubs in my pub ratings system, I’ve finally finished off the C4Lf Yuletide report. Including the epic Smitmas Weave eleven-pub strong crawl. Read on for tales of Weetwood Ambush, infuriating Smit and Fran once again failing to meet his self-imposed deadlines.
Saturday (22.12.2012) – I am somewhat hungover after the Weetwood excesses of the pub quiz at T’House the night before. I go and watch the football. Sasavich spend much of the day working on the fanzine and then go to our neighbours Christmas Party. I tell several people that I’m going to Waterford and hear various tales about Waterford Crystal and the buyout of Wedgewood pottery. I spend the evening working on the fanzine, whilst sitting through six hours of Strictly Come Dancing with Mum.
Sunday – I text Weaver to ask him if he’s going to T’House Quiz. He responds by text, “You’re not going to offend people AGAIN are you?” When I arrive at T’House, I meet up with Hardman and we sit in the lounge until Weaver arrives and ushers us into the front bar. The quiz has only about four or five teams this time and it’s 30 questions long. Seven of these are to name all the seven wonders of the wonders of the world of which we get six (curse you Temple of Artemis at Ephesus) and then three about the nicknames of kings, one about Roman Emperors and the rest about Christmas. If ever I should win a quiz this is it (well unless there was a quiz where you had to name as many mythical creatures as possible, but what fool would create such a thing?). We lose by three points to the village idiots.
Monday – IT’S SMIIIIITTMMMMMAAASSSSS WEEEEEAVVVEEE! I’m supposed to be meeting Baldwin at 11.30 but I get up late and so Baldwin arrives just as I’m getting out of the shower – sexy times. I instruct my dad to buy me some time, but even my dad whose powers of oration are legendary, can only hold Baldwin so long and so we agree to reconvene at the bus stop at 12.20.
The night before Weaver has suggested a series of implausible pub crawls going through Hoole, the Lache and continuously circling the Fountain roundabout. However, we decide to take him up on one of his pubs – the Mount Inn.
1. The Mount Inn
It’s a gutted pine floor affair with a fantastic drizzle-soaked view over the meadows, while we consume a Robinson’s Blonde and a pint of Baines. The locals indulging in some Christmas Eve Benny Hill-style chase one of the barmaid around the bar, while I educate Ste on the origins of the word N00b.
To democratise the bar crawl I suggest that everyone chooses three pubs to make up the pub crawl. Baldwin proceeds to try and sabotage my plans by pick pubs that are too far for us to walk, or have been closed and converted into a petrol station, or in the case of the Copper Kettle at Tarvin, both.
Hardman and Andrea arrive and we stalk them outside Subway and then give the softies a thorough menacing by staring at them through the windows. Next stop the Boot to plan the pub crawl.
2. The Boot
The front room of the Boot is packed with old men, smelling of wee, perched on the benches like glowering brown birds whose beedy eyes follow us as we enter and approach the bar. I nominate myself to get the round in the Boot, as its Sam Smith’s and bound to be the cheapest round of the day. Although the group do their best to drag up the prices by ordering two pints of taddy lager and a pint of organic purebrew. I get a pint of dark mild – craftily choosing a low alcohol percentage to see me out for the length of the crawl. We go into the fusty, brown backroom which contains more Odd Balls than Old Men. Everyone makes their decisions. They are:
Hardman: The Boot, the Albion, Amber Lounge
Andrea: The Horse shit and Fuck, the Golden Eagle, Amber Lounge
Fran: The Pied Bull, the Brewery Tap, the Albion
Baldwin: The Bear and Billet, The Ship, Odd Fellows
We rearrange these into the following bar crawl: The Pied Bull, The Horse Shit and Fuck, the Albion, the Brewery Tap, the Golden Eagle, the Amber, Odd Fellows, the Bear and Billet, the Ship.
3. The Pied Bull (Matador x 2, Arizona, Amstell)
I’d been here earlier in the week with dad who’d told me that their beer was brewed in the cellar of the pub and had a pint of the Matador, which won the Champion Beer of Cheshire 2012. It’s strong and hoppy, a bit too strong and hoppy for some C4Lf members who worry about the power of Hopps to modify their behaviour. I convince Hardman to have a pint of Matador, while Baldwin goes for the dry taste of Arizona and Andrea plays it safe with a pint of Amstell. In Andrea’s words ‘No Bow, no Show.’
The Pied Bull is festively decorated with a giant half cracker and it takes me back to Christmas Eve’s past when C4Lf used to issue a series of riddles to latecomers to indicate which pub they were in. This encouraged punctual arrival on bar crawls and Baldwin still arrives at the very start of a bar crawl to ensure he doesn’t get riddle. After a series of particularly dastardly riddles Fran was eventually found in the Pied Bull after issuing the clue Magpie Midas. A Magpie being Pied and Midas being the King (or so Fran thought at the time) of Crete, an island renowned for its bull-worship and thriving minotaur population. Fran would later find out from Rodger Barnes, proprietor of the Rose Farm shop car wash, that in fact it was Minos who was king of Crete, Midas being another Greek king renowned for his golden touch.
Ste gets a call from Smit who is on the bus coming in and wants to know where we are? The phone is passed around and we give Smit various clues including, ‘Misspelt Magpie Minus [Sic]’. A grumpy Smit tells us that it’s not too late for him to get back on the bus and go home and he updates his facebook status to say that Fran, Hardman and Balwin are dickheads. Andrea takes pity on Smit despite his poor knowledge of the history of barcrawl’s past, and tags our location on her phone. Smit arrives and manages to restrain himself from punching us in the face. Amusingly when Smit tells the story to his family including the riddle, his brother immediately identifies the pub identity as the Pied Bull, while David Cousins doesn’t even need a clue at all.
4. The Horse shit and Fuck (also known as the Coach and Horses) (Thwaites Original, Thwaites Wainwright x 3, Amstel)
The Horse shit and Fuck is Andrea’s choice, as it was once a former Quafia (Queen’s School Mafia) stronghold. The pub is in a somewhat generic state nowadays but does provoke much discussion about Quafia rules (BULLSHIT INVISIBLE SEVENS) and the game of hockey for which Andrea’s year were once famous.
5. The Living Room (eventually) (3 x Moria Veretia, 2 x Greene King IPA)
Fran tries to persuade the group to go to the Cathedral to see the shrine of St Werburgh, but there’s a service on so we go in search of Mike Towel.
First of all we go to the Amber Lounge, which I later find out my sister is involved in a prolonged legal battle with, after a slip on their allegedly slippy floors. The girl behind the counter remarks that the name Mike Trowel does “sounds familiar, strangely familiar” but doesn’t know him. We then head to Bar Lounge but again the bar staff shrug their shoulders at the name. Exasperated, I give Weaver a call who informs us that Mike in fact works in the Living Room – which was once Joe’s Winebar.
Things get Towelicious as Mike ever the gracious host gets us a free round. We sit on stools at the bar and sup our dark continental larger, while listening to Wham. Smit finds drying his hands awkward as it’s so closely located to the urinal.
6. The Plumbers (3 x good elf, forests x 2)
Fran leaves the group to head to Waterstones to pick up a last minute present for his dad, a book about the South American explorer Colonel Fawcett. They don’t have it. I rejoin the crew as we head to the Albion, which with characteristic cumudgeoneous has decided to close for Christmas Eve so we head to the Plumbers Arms. The Plumbers which used to be Fagins was once known for its Redwitch – a potent cocktail of cider, blackcurrent and pernod. When a young Fran first entered the Plumbers and asked the elderly barmaid for a redwitch many moons ago she replied, “it’s not for the likes of you my lad”. Needless to say a contrary Fran consumed many a Redwitch that day and was presumably sick afterwards. However, when we order five Redwitches this time the barmaid has no idea what we’re talking about. Although I usually find Christmas Ales to be pretty shit, the good elf is actually really good and genuinely tastes of mince pies. The Plumbers is largely deserted now but Baldwin recalls a time when he and Weave played a game of darts against some giddy King’s boys in the Plumbers where you had to put your hand on the board and aim for between people’s fingers. Andrea and Smit select some tunes on the juke box to reflect the differing personalities of the bar crawl posse...it’s largely Cliff Richard.
7. The Bear and Billet (? but I wager Okells of some kind)
Time is running out on us before we need to catch the penultimate bus back to Tarporley so we jettison several pubs and head straight to the Bear and Billet. In contrast to the Plumbers the Billet is packed and only some judicious sofa hovering allows us to get a seat on the cosy couches upstairs. Around us are various glowering drunken men who seem to object to our clientele rating.
8. The Queen’s Arms
We hastily head to the Queens Arms, which is now largely barren. It was once one of the only places we could get served in when we were under age and we recall a time when Hayfield was kicked out of here when the barman read his real ID, which said he was 17. Hardman is in an erratic mood at this stage (on the C4Lf AGM 2012 three days later he doesn’t actually remember going into the Queens Arms) and he disappears for a while before reappearing with McDonalds for us. He has burgers for everyone and carrot sticks for me. I dutifully eat the carrot sticks on the bus back to Tarporley and find that they sober me up somewhat.
9. The Rising Sun (Unicorn, Dizzy Blonde, Old Tom)
After arriving in Tarporley we start as is customary on a Christmas Eve at the Rising Sun, where our obnoxious shouting will be most appreciated. For once the watery Robbies is just what I’m after, except by Baldwin who gets a bottle of Old Tom – Mental! Mark that one down whoever’s scoring the C4Lf’s drinker of the year 2013. The effect of the booze is kicking in now as my notes for the Rising Sun include the words Spidery snow queen schmizzing schmum.
We avoid Piste and the Swan. I wander through but recognise nobody and head down to the Crown
10. The Crown
It’s pub number 10 and I have no notes for this. But as far as I can recall we meet up with Weaver, Laura, Ben, Amy, Freeman, DT, Ian and The Guys at this point. A mass game of Pool and then darts ensues. I move onto the Bow – “No Show, No Bow” and then we pile into Weaver’s Car and head to...
11. T’House
Compared to previous Christmas Eve’s the T’House is remarkably quiet. We amble into the pool room aka the snug and inspired by our previous experiences in the Plumbers turn on the juke box and rock out on the pool table. At some point I’m challenged to an arm wrestle by a local Cheshire Strongman, I do well on the right arm but get crushed on the left. Weaver takes the guy on the right and wins. He won’t risk his left though, that’s his darting arm. Having reached saturation with Weetwood Eastgate I wander out into the night, taking a detour via the woods, on my way home.
Christmas day
Hung over.
Boxing day aka St Stephen’s Day (remember that for future Christmas quizzes) aka Belly Pork Day (according to Weave)
It’s time for the traditional game of C4Lf football that happens but once a year these days. While in yesteryear these matches used to be around 20-a-side, nowadays it’s 4-a-side. The teams are DT, Smit (in work shoes and designer jeans), Freeman & Fran vs. Ben, Lloyd, Lloyd’s brother and some mysterious ringer Ben has brought along. Team Lloyd, largely thanks to the Ringer who despite being sick half way through the match runs rings around us, take a seemingly unassailable lead of 121 to 10. However, thanks to the Fifa indorsed rule of next goal wins, a last minute goal by Freeman means that Team DT get the (undeserved) win. I head off to the Deva to watch Chester crush Drolysden. I stay up until 3.30 watching Stewart Lee DVDs and desperately try to finish the C4Lf fanzine.
Thursday 27.12.2012
It’s the day of the C4Lf Annual Review. Have I managed to finish the C4Lf fanzin? No I have not. This year’s issue is even bigger than last year at 54 pages. I compare this to the old Chester FC fanzine the Onion Bag¸ which is only 24 pages long and I shake my head in despair. By 1.00 I’ve managed to complete it but I only have two hours to get to the printers in Chester and print out copies for the 12 or so C4Lf members coming to the dinner in the evening. In typical Fran fashion though during this period I’ve managed to lose my Debit card, after an hour and a half of searching and my dad urging me to reopen my discontinued Barclay card, I find it tangled in my fisherman’s jumper. Time has run out for me on getting them professionally printed, so I give Baldwin a call to see if I can get a prototype printed. I’m in luck Baldwin has an empty house, a free printer and is craving a pre-annual review pint. I head round his and with a little help from Baldwin and some cellotape manage to print a complete copy. Phew that ought to placate the C4Lferati who are champing at the bit to read this year’s issue (and after Ben has read it, a couple of others might give it a glance as well).
I get down to Harkers for 6.30 to ensure that we have a table and to check out the beer supply. Much to my delight they have WEETWOOD AMBUSH on tap – the finest beer in the WEETWOOD range. Sweet! Gradually the C4Lf members begin to arrive, we have a healthy final tally of 19. For future C4Lf fanzine reference they are: Amy, Ben, El Presidente, Fran, Hardman, Mister Lloyd, Issie, Issie’s brother, Issie’s brother’s girlfriend, Walka, Bryn, Issie’s female friend, the Mathertron twins, Freeman’s mate, DT, Jenny & Freeman.
Food arrives, much astonishment is caused by my zebra print trousers and the Circle of Hake (tm Hardman) is once again enacted on Baldwin for another year, as Ste’s fishcake dish is exchanged for fish and chips much to the amusement of everyone apart from Baldwin. After dinner it’s time to move on and I’m in the unenviable position of listening to C4Lf’s members suggestions of where to go next. As always Freeman wants to take us to take us to Kash bar, which is far from these parts. Weaver’s suggestions generally involve heading south of the Fountain round about to some dilapidated boozer with boarded up windows, where he’s played darts once against the pubs resident career criminal/solider of fortune. Eventually I plump for Issie’s suggestion of going to a pub near the station which has real ales. The description puzzles everyone involved but it turns out to be a renovated Nu Wah (“NUUUUUU WAAAAHHH ARE YOU DOWN WITH THE SICKNESS!?!”) bar with a fine ale selection and some seating. It’s at this point that I decide to do the voting for this year’s C4Lf awards. Note for next year, do this when everyone’s sitting down at the table in Harker’s not standing around in isolated clumps.
As the results have been recorded in an earlier blog post I’ll pass over this and cut straight to the chase. We head to the Mill Hotel, then to the Amber Lounge where a grumpy Weaver tries to convince us to get a taxi. Hardman eventually agrees to go back to Kelsall with him. While Baldwin and myself look to brave Rosies on Indy night. However, the bouncers take one look at my zebra-print trousers and tell us that they’re not letting anyone else in for the night. Chester just isn’t ready for my trousers sadly it seems, but one day, one day (shakes fist at sky and vows vengeance). Baldwin and I beat a hasty retreat to the taxi ranks and join Hardman and Weaver. This reminds me that I still owe Hardman five pounds for the taxi back home.
Friday 28.12.2012
I leave behind Cheshire and head to Waterford.
Christmas pub ratings for 2012. As always the categories are Décor (D), Atmosphere (A), Booze (B), Clientele (C), Courtesy of Bar Staff (COB), Mean (M). Pubs that were visited but not rated (The Crown, the Foresters, Harkers, the bar formerly known at Nu Wah!, the Mill Hotel).
Pubs
|
Description
|
D
|
A
|
B
|
C
|
COB
|
M
|
The Bar and Billett, Chester
|
Cosy sofas, glowering drunks, Okell's ales
|
4.0
|
4.0
|
4.0
|
3.0
|
4.2
|
3.8
|
The Pield Bull aka The Magpie Minos, Chester
|
Giant cracker, Champion Beer of Cheshire
|
4.3
|
3.3
|
3.7
|
3.8
|
3.5
|
3.7
|
T'House at Top, Kelsall
|
No Olde Dawg but still great for a T'House party
|
3.6
|
3.6
|
3.8
|
3.6
|
3.6
|
3.7
|
The Fettered Swan, Tarporley
|
Venerable fox hunting haven
|
3.9
|
3.6
|
3.6
|
3.5
|
3.5
|
3.6
|
The Living Room, Chester
|
Towellerific
|
3.7
|
2.6
|
3.1
|
2.3
|
5.2
|
3.4
|
The Boot, Chester
|
Beady-eyed old men reeking of urine
|
3.6
|
2.6
|
3.5
|
2.5
|
4.0
|
3.3
|
The Mount Inn, Chester
|
Great looking out, not so good looking in
|
3.5
|
4.5
|
3.0
|
2.5
|
2.5
|
3.2
|
The Coach and Horses aka the Horse Shit and Fuck
|
This rowdy hockey club haunt has cleaned up its act.
|
3.2
|
3.0
|
3.1
|
2.7
|
4.0
|
3.2
|
Piste, Tarporley
|
Ski-lodge themed Tarporley Vics hang-out
|
3.0
|
3.8
|
2.7
|
2.3
|
3.5
|
3.1
|
Rising Sun, Tarporley
|
Watery Robinsons
|
3.7
|
2.6
|
2.5
|
2.8
|
3.0
|
2.9
|
The Plumbers aka Fagins, Chester
|
No red witch, no customers
|
3.3
|
1.9
|
2.9
|
2.5
|
3.4
|
2.8
|
Amber Lounge, Chester
|
Taxi for Weaver
|
1.9
|
2.9
|
1.3
|
4.1
|
3.5
|
2.7
|
The Queen's Arms, Chester
|
Disappearing Hardman returns with Mccarrots.
|
1.8
|
1.4
|
2.0
|
1.8
|
4.0
|
2.2
|
