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07-07-2023, 16:53
Visit the Paul Bailey's Beer Blog site (https://baileysbeerblog.blogspot.com/2023/07/last-knockings-in-wet-and-windy.html)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iWaF90uAv9srMtIJJ5hnz0BPWyWUKAKKRVwOaBp0px Y1IQW5Nc394gW3CnjvDWiW2CaeeLxmcx-rqdqBvARhKmk7arPoJeHq4N_bcgsAuNuAnfatCBCqDV5OLBwLj Myw3d6Vz43mBAKW65nAax2omBMcs4ZAcDBnjY9D_Lpbho4ladF Pk3CBXdHY_NA/w400-h210/Peveril%20Peak.%201.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iWaF90uAv9srMtIJJ5hnz0BPWyWUKAKKRVwOaBp0px Y1IQW5Nc394gW3CnjvDWiW2CaeeLxmcx-rqdqBvARhKmk7arPoJeHq4N_bcgsAuNuAnfatCBCqDV5OLBwLj Myw3d6Vz43mBAKW65nAax2omBMcs4ZAcDBnjY9D_Lpbho4ladF Pk3CBXdHY_NA/s3809/Peveril%20Peak.%201.jpg)
Moving swiftly on, as there were still a further eight pubsleft unticked on my list – the one where Martin was complimentary about myhandwriting. We had parted company, as hehurried off to the barbers shop,where his son works, to get a haircut, whilst I still had several more Manchesterpubs to visit. The one I was heading for was the Peveril of the Peak, a famousMancunian institution, and a real classic town boozer.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCHt7I3-fq2YhIG4yqisXyewkBEl9vRNlh6qlTlOYjh_xhRQ3Ra6d2rT9_ QbyY2AOj9seJNO9vJm2wr8nnzkDvxyxw5Yrq0UigKZUuYeYcGv OUrU5V0ANxu7GWXubhJQSEaP3d8fhNSnUvkQAtqwKdSVRwG5QD V_GLkToa30zzZaHklLu057iIaQ7_-4/w400-h225/Peveril%20Peak.%202.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCHt7I3-fq2YhIG4yqisXyewkBEl9vRNlh6qlTlOYjh_xhRQ3Ra6d2rT9_ QbyY2AOj9seJNO9vJm2wr8nnzkDvxyxw5Yrq0UigKZUuYeYcGv OUrU5V0ANxu7GWXubhJQSEaP3d8fhNSnUvkQAtqwKdSVRwG5QD V_GLkToa30zzZaHklLu057iIaQ7_-4/s3853/Peveril%20Peak.%202.jpg)
Surrounded by much taller office and apartment blocks ofmore recent origin, this small, wedge shaped, Victorian pub is a real survivor,standing shorn of the rest of the original terrace at the apex of a junctionbetween two converging roads. The Peveril’s ornate tiled exterior hides an evenmore splendid interior, full of polished wood, stained glass, and traditionalbench seating along the walls. According to What Pub, this unspoilt gem is stillrun by the city’s longest serving landlady, although she wasn’t evident when Isqueezed inside, taking shelter from the increasingly wet weather that was doingits best to dampen spirits on an already damp, Friday afternoon.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7H2EQNwmQJYWxKTT_6mYwdb-qNtPbeJNXJmhzSvn9OI6DEz1Jzz2Ba1_bjRVpvKxVqGhWjiLd_ w6MmEkpA1_qLoS6JjLNdAMtk3h8Lingiyj7UdqD3DYlYnhGhC_ OpJ5yU1FsHX4YG3l28uLUNA6sVfo16_3tVeZayaGmBgJhKVWZA XF-JiquZmcm8m8/w400-h225/Peveril%20Int.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7H2EQNwmQJYWxKTT_6mYwdb-qNtPbeJNXJmhzSvn9OI6DEz1Jzz2Ba1_bjRVpvKxVqGhWjiLd_ w6MmEkpA1_qLoS6JjLNdAMtk3h8Lingiyj7UdqD3DYlYnhGhC_ OpJ5yU1FsHX4YG3l28uLUNA6sVfo16_3tVeZayaGmBgJhKVWZA XF-JiquZmcm8m8/s3949/Peveril%20Int.jpg)
I entered what I assumed was originally the public bar, froma door to the left of the building, and despite finding the place packed fullof drinkers, not only managed to get served, but also found a bit of spacealong the bench seating, to rest my legs. With a final step total for the dayof over 26,000, I must have reached at least 20k by that stage, so somewhere topark my behind was much appreciated. There was a good, mixed crowd of drinkersin the Peveril, that afternoon, but the service from the youngsters behind thebar was quick and efficient.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGs04PMRBXkfzWIrI3IQS7ZefHX70wj6TWBJ7zX-fu9CLHWUVe1C4e0prn5dYNfbl8_EzeNn1at3BXTw5BEZ2L3nda UnvYbLkQZXDL7EqStbohOnlb4114jYdFFsjFh-tiACr_MjBc3voAY0BR-FhamNW5-2CHXg0UFf3tziis-bTeAUHQUlp19kPz3EQ/w400-h204/Peveril%20Peak.%204.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGs04PMRBXkfzWIrI3IQS7ZefHX70wj6TWBJ7zX-fu9CLHWUVe1C4e0prn5dYNfbl8_EzeNn1at3BXTw5BEZ2L3nda UnvYbLkQZXDL7EqStbohOnlb4114jYdFFsjFh-tiACr_MjBc3voAY0BR-FhamNW5-2CHXg0UFf3tziis-bTeAUHQUlp19kPz3EQ/s3843/Peveril%20Peak.%204.jpg)
The cask beers were from Millstone (Tiger Rut), Titanic(Plum Porter – of course), and Brightside Brewing (Mancunian Hoppy Blonde). Iwent for the latter, and it proved a good choice, as according to my entry onUntappd, I rated it as the "best beer of the trip," so far! Despite theexcellence of the beer, I’d reached that mid-afternoon lull, where you justwant to slow things down, chill out and sit there, taking everything in. I’mreasonably certain I’d been to the Peveril before,but as I said before, one’s memory plays tricks after half a century. One thingI do remember is the pub sold Wilson’s ales back then, and despite the breweryand its brands being owned by Watney’s, Wilson’s Original Bitter was availablein cask form, and wasn’t a bad drop.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4MhBenOl0sxVDKaGS7VfKMdlIu5cIQY7xdrWrW0D9a iyXEfUCc99aX8rOBxWSJ34Y_NUibm564i10QXC0NpumcOYBEoq Dx4RNPkOCD815mazQvNriNd5-zyJV2BzkUx8zOaupHlguM27W3xs1li_MAPMZd7IPy04FjSn-mf5lRCCmsYiHema7WyiKkc/w400-h210/Manchester%20Central.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4MhBenOl0sxVDKaGS7VfKMdlIu5cIQY7xdrWrW0D9a iyXEfUCc99aX8rOBxWSJ34Y_NUibm564i10QXC0NpumcOYBEoq Dx4RNPkOCD815mazQvNriNd5-zyJV2BzkUx8zOaupHlguM27W3xs1li_MAPMZd7IPy04FjSn-mf5lRCCmsYiHema7WyiKkc/s4000/Manchester%20Central.jpg)
Time was marching on, so I decided to head back towardsPiccadilly. The intensity of the rain had increased by now, so I was glad ofthe pack-a-mack I’d brought with me. My route took me passed Manchester Central Station, once one of the city’s main railway terminals, but closed to trains in1969, when it was deemed surplus to requirements. I remember the station frommy time in Manchester. It had only been closed for a few years, but it had thatuncared for and unkempt look about it, and was used, at the time as a car-park.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQF-cyGf4X0oioF23WffM6CVuV9yE9PCpB4sH9MNCZoCRfz0R7gqb8 8pLJGdDA27DCDe8Vpm4hndfVOF8F7ytQ29zoEL6JZBAQa-lI-qRe8lM6FtFEIXjoxYvMToYG6UhipQxRvPrOCUsvPfaPW_fbIxI gdbWdm3cKFVJuQgt6O4Z8X8c-fUBn5x0ndII/w225-h400/City%20Arms%20Int.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQF-cyGf4X0oioF23WffM6CVuV9yE9PCpB4sH9MNCZoCRfz0R7gqb8 8pLJGdDA27DCDe8Vpm4hndfVOF8F7ytQ29zoEL6JZBAQa-lI-qRe8lM6FtFEIXjoxYvMToYG6UhipQxRvPrOCUsvPfaPW_fbIxI gdbWdm3cKFVJuQgt6O4Z8X8c-fUBn5x0ndII/s4000/City%20Arms%20Int.jpg)
The Greater Manchester Council bought the building in 1982,and work began on converting it into an exhibition centre. This opened in 1986as the Greater Manchester Exhibition and Conference Centre or G-Mex, althoughit was subsequently renamed Manchester Central, in honour of its railwayhistory. The venue hosts the annual Manchester Beer Festival, held each Januaryby the Manchester branches of CAMRA.I was using my Smartphone to help me navigate my way backinto the city centre, when I received a WhatsApp message from Martin, informingme of the time of his train home, and asking if I was about for a final half?After a further exchange of messages, we settled on the City Arms, close to theCentral Library, so I made my way there, and found him waiting for me inside.The pub was packed, and with no chance of a seat we made our way to the bar,where the choice of beer was Odin, from Brightside Brewing, plus threeofferings from Neptune. The latter are a micro-brewery from Merseyside.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg26ag1-H8syHc25fjTExZhMnAzWhxPKVvmuIOPMeX7IewzF8jNisRNRVi MwI_d0K2gKYqdbrgW6RRmbTbN45jmwt0QevENyfdFCutQY-M7H6y8sndBm8_SFBYeH-_KbLKzgr1fwtSlsdwNVOybjhCfRbB6iAoLjZCkTczKKYW1MAZa SuZmIADHg1TEf0/w400-h228/City%20Vine.%201.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg26ag1-H8syHc25fjTExZhMnAzWhxPKVvmuIOPMeX7IewzF8jNisRNRVi MwI_d0K2gKYqdbrgW6RRmbTbN45jmwt0QevENyfdFCutQY-M7H6y8sndBm8_SFBYeH-_KbLKzgr1fwtSlsdwNVOybjhCfRbB6iAoLjZCkTczKKYW1MAZa SuZmIADHg1TEf0/s3894/City%20Vine.%201.jpg)
I opted for Neptune's Wooden Ships, because it reminded me ofthe classic, laid-back track of the same name, recorded by both Jefferson Airplane and Crosby,Stills & Nash (I like both versions,
btw). This American style, pale alewas, according to my Untappd notes, slightly hazy, but perfectly drinkable. Untappdalso records that I ticked this beer at the Vine Inn, which is next door, andthe Oakham Citra that I enjoyed later at the Vine, was supped in the City Arms.- talk about the perils of retrospective entries, whilst under the influence ofslightly too much beer! Returning briefly to the City Arms, we did manage tofind a space to at least stand in peace, even though it was in the corridor,leading back out to the street. Sited behind the serving area, and with its ownhatch for those desperate for a drink, it was a little cramped, but it was Fridayafternoon in a city that knows how to have a good time.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggVhZNUK-waHsxHuC4pwox1cbkr26BQRLL8ga8SL5MdFX1fZxwyJuBFx4H4 M4NmSIcCWcJ3ulDzvipC2Oa0_lGiwlnfVWrtUv7b2dmSYyE-s8ti2_ps5xm_T_6g3SlgotkpZKisxFB8a7oQQX-RVt0mFYP1VdmY7gX4RT2Eg94p5_TWJtYXITt1LdMRb4/w400-h274/City%20Vine%20Waterhouse.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggVhZNUK-waHsxHuC4pwox1cbkr26BQRLL8ga8SL5MdFX1fZxwyJuBFx4H4 M4NmSIcCWcJ3ulDzvipC2Oa0_lGiwlnfVWrtUv7b2dmSYyE-s8ti2_ps5xm_T_6g3SlgotkpZKisxFB8a7oQQX-RVt0mFYP1VdmY7gX4RT2Eg94p5_TWJtYXITt1LdMRb4/s3101/City%20Vine%20Waterhouse.jpg)
Martin and I parted company after this. His train departed 45minutes before mine, which meant I still had time for one last beer and one finalpub from my list. As mentioned above, the Vine Inn is next door to the CityArms, and if you want an even longer pub stagger, without the “crawl” then theWaterhouse, which is the other side of the City Arms, is the pub for you. ThisJDW outlet also extends right through to the street behind, but there wasn’ttime for a visit, it wasn't a pub back in 1975 and, more importantly, it wasn’t on the list.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdzbzjHd9l8vGPq91PM0b_Lo3ftfQhWW59CzuYEPzodT IqMwubgoETZu82V5rAvsG3kxQawGYHeSyLT1imiX8QHVR_LzmL 5kaNEGXSAw5np-Oj0RPdww3rTJs5SmS-KHdKz_dHFQpD9xHrGJjGmmiXwn1L3YLHHUJtm4LTYR5i6_D16p LQdyxC-o_W6B4/w400-h225/City%20Vine.%202.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdzbzjHd9l8vGPq91PM0b_Lo3ftfQhWW59CzuYEPzodT IqMwubgoETZu82V5rAvsG3kxQawGYHeSyLT1imiX8QHVR_LzmL 5kaNEGXSAw5np-Oj0RPdww3rTJs5SmS-KHdKz_dHFQpD9xHrGJjGmmiXwn1L3YLHHUJtm4LTYR5i6_D16p LQdyxC-o_W6B4/s4000/City%20Vine.%202.jpg)
I thanked Martin for his company, and for taking time outfrom his busy schedule as he set off, through the rain, to catch his train. I steppedstraight into the Vine Inn and was surprised to find it a lot quieter than itsimmediate neighbour. I didn’t take any photos of the interior, but there was aroom, at the left which extended to the rear of the pub. The bar counter was onthe right, but there was also a separate drinking area, up some steps to theright of this. The lack of photographic evidence means the only beer I canreport on is the Oakham Citra, which was in fine form.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDZo7YoAoZAU1uKF-fdMx15hEMj_nPC8uaXtMDZjG7eaRTLrkLcSxs0SXysH4YmScEu RhwGPL36C_-u4HYJuFF2lhTyBd9ggdgzXE2q4JrMKDqSVjDdJW5MiZMr8OwIL loXZB1jyQBnG2oxaAqpLwZvsT4FgNnGprhkXfTCAZQ7prUG5Nj W1iTaxoxDx0/w400-h225/Piccadilly%20Gardens.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDZo7YoAoZAU1uKF-fdMx15hEMj_nPC8uaXtMDZjG7eaRTLrkLcSxs0SXysH4YmScEu RhwGPL36C_-u4HYJuFF2lhTyBd9ggdgzXE2q4JrMKDqSVjDdJW5MiZMr8OwIL loXZB1jyQBnG2oxaAqpLwZvsT4FgNnGprhkXfTCAZQ7prUG5Nj W1iTaxoxDx0/s4000/Piccadilly%20Gardens.jpg)
It was my turn now to depart, so I took a leisurely stroll backto the station, stopping on the way to pick up a “meal deal” from the Greggs,opposite Piccadilly Gardens. The roast chicken sub-roll, with mayo and watercress,combined with the bag of crisps and bottle of water, formed the perfect “trainpicnic” – as my Irish work colleague would describe it, especially whencombined with a coffee, purchased at the station. Retrospective apologies though,to the girl I sat next to, and the one opposite as well, although I’d like to think Iconsumed my feast as politely and delicately as possible.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhavnMZulFnodufrGniloOyjAXXEAoGdhYY4J7MdMvczL hRKpcgrgL1PehF60ewWK9_oQOph4Izpl4ckc1fyIljACKJnV0G SaQV2tvrx2698YpUAEBWKzG-TqBHNHitGGmX53Mry-Auwh2vH_hjgw_JbK1PoHkSI8NCCLWNzdSeYGZ7gSz2aF7VjV4I CDE/w400-h225/Piccadilly%20train.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhavnMZulFnodufrGniloOyjAXXEAoGdhYY4J7MdMvczL hRKpcgrgL1PehF60ewWK9_oQOph4Izpl4ckc1fyIljACKJnV0G SaQV2tvrx2698YpUAEBWKzG-TqBHNHitGGmX53Mry-Auwh2vH_hjgw_JbK1PoHkSI8NCCLWNzdSeYGZ7gSz2aF7VjV4I CDE/s4000/Piccadilly%20train.jpg)
I only sat there, as I had a reserved seat, but with only ahandful of additional passengers boarding at Stockport, I could perhaps havemoved to an empty one. That also, might have seemed rude, but as I didn’t nodoff, and start snoring, I stayed put. It was my immediate fellow travellers whodozed off, but the magazine I had with me, plus the ever-changing views from thewindow, as the train sped south, were sufficient to keep me awake. The trainwas around 20 minutes late into Euston, not that it mattered, as there wasplenty of time for my connection back to Tonbridge. It was the Northern Lineagain, but this time to Charing Cross, which meant slightly less walking, thanat London Bridge.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdTwmK6WoPUGdsH57mwV7t1_IzWW3F40mALXEG01ShMd 0zcrUoSBTh2l99uuqa0aPSC6VDxQ9X6KuDX5f7nIF89wKaDP9b WDFW0hdsOvDeVESinPH5pU9QUVNGSc3DwdSI6KLzvEB7RI9FPr JWuF44oK3W2zWCgw6SkuxaW5BOCdJ2Qd2wOBRgUtXyghA/w400-h220/Sail%20away.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdTwmK6WoPUGdsH57mwV7t1_IzWW3F40mALXEG01ShMd 0zcrUoSBTh2l99uuqa0aPSC6VDxQ9X6KuDX5f7nIF89wKaDP9b WDFW0hdsOvDeVESinPH5pU9QUVNGSc3DwdSI6KLzvEB7RI9FPr JWuF44oK3W2zWCgw6SkuxaW5BOCdJ2Qd2wOBRgUtXyghA/s3806/Sail%20away.jpg)
I really enjoyed my long overdue return to Manchester andthe only puzzling thing is, why did I leave it so long? The only answer I canput forward is that life got in the way. Working 9-5, raising a family, changingjobs, and having to deal with the everyday stuff that life throws at us. Therewas also the six-year period when Eileen and I had our off-license, a taskwhere we were virtually tied to the business, with very little free time forholidays or even the odd day out.Don’t make the same mistake, make time for those trips, goand visit those friends and relatives you’ve been promising to see for ages,book that special holiday you’ve been promising yourself and set out on thatlong-distance trail you’ve wanted to do, since way back when. I’d like to thinkthat with the new found freedom that comes from being semi-retired that I’ve atleast been doing some of these things, but there’s still plenty more to do. Theonly question now, is what comes next?
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More... (https://baileysbeerblog.blogspot.com/2023/07/last-knockings-in-wet-and-windy.html)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iWaF90uAv9srMtIJJ5hnz0BPWyWUKAKKRVwOaBp0px Y1IQW5Nc394gW3CnjvDWiW2CaeeLxmcx-rqdqBvARhKmk7arPoJeHq4N_bcgsAuNuAnfatCBCqDV5OLBwLj Myw3d6Vz43mBAKW65nAax2omBMcs4ZAcDBnjY9D_Lpbho4ladF Pk3CBXdHY_NA/w400-h210/Peveril%20Peak.%201.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iWaF90uAv9srMtIJJ5hnz0BPWyWUKAKKRVwOaBp0px Y1IQW5Nc394gW3CnjvDWiW2CaeeLxmcx-rqdqBvARhKmk7arPoJeHq4N_bcgsAuNuAnfatCBCqDV5OLBwLj Myw3d6Vz43mBAKW65nAax2omBMcs4ZAcDBnjY9D_Lpbho4ladF Pk3CBXdHY_NA/s3809/Peveril%20Peak.%201.jpg)
Moving swiftly on, as there were still a further eight pubsleft unticked on my list – the one where Martin was complimentary about myhandwriting. We had parted company, as hehurried off to the barbers shop,where his son works, to get a haircut, whilst I still had several more Manchesterpubs to visit. The one I was heading for was the Peveril of the Peak, a famousMancunian institution, and a real classic town boozer.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCHt7I3-fq2YhIG4yqisXyewkBEl9vRNlh6qlTlOYjh_xhRQ3Ra6d2rT9_ QbyY2AOj9seJNO9vJm2wr8nnzkDvxyxw5Yrq0UigKZUuYeYcGv OUrU5V0ANxu7GWXubhJQSEaP3d8fhNSnUvkQAtqwKdSVRwG5QD V_GLkToa30zzZaHklLu057iIaQ7_-4/w400-h225/Peveril%20Peak.%202.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCHt7I3-fq2YhIG4yqisXyewkBEl9vRNlh6qlTlOYjh_xhRQ3Ra6d2rT9_ QbyY2AOj9seJNO9vJm2wr8nnzkDvxyxw5Yrq0UigKZUuYeYcGv OUrU5V0ANxu7GWXubhJQSEaP3d8fhNSnUvkQAtqwKdSVRwG5QD V_GLkToa30zzZaHklLu057iIaQ7_-4/s3853/Peveril%20Peak.%202.jpg)
Surrounded by much taller office and apartment blocks ofmore recent origin, this small, wedge shaped, Victorian pub is a real survivor,standing shorn of the rest of the original terrace at the apex of a junctionbetween two converging roads. The Peveril’s ornate tiled exterior hides an evenmore splendid interior, full of polished wood, stained glass, and traditionalbench seating along the walls. According to What Pub, this unspoilt gem is stillrun by the city’s longest serving landlady, although she wasn’t evident when Isqueezed inside, taking shelter from the increasingly wet weather that was doingits best to dampen spirits on an already damp, Friday afternoon.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7H2EQNwmQJYWxKTT_6mYwdb-qNtPbeJNXJmhzSvn9OI6DEz1Jzz2Ba1_bjRVpvKxVqGhWjiLd_ w6MmEkpA1_qLoS6JjLNdAMtk3h8Lingiyj7UdqD3DYlYnhGhC_ OpJ5yU1FsHX4YG3l28uLUNA6sVfo16_3tVeZayaGmBgJhKVWZA XF-JiquZmcm8m8/w400-h225/Peveril%20Int.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7H2EQNwmQJYWxKTT_6mYwdb-qNtPbeJNXJmhzSvn9OI6DEz1Jzz2Ba1_bjRVpvKxVqGhWjiLd_ w6MmEkpA1_qLoS6JjLNdAMtk3h8Lingiyj7UdqD3DYlYnhGhC_ OpJ5yU1FsHX4YG3l28uLUNA6sVfo16_3tVeZayaGmBgJhKVWZA XF-JiquZmcm8m8/s3949/Peveril%20Int.jpg)
I entered what I assumed was originally the public bar, froma door to the left of the building, and despite finding the place packed fullof drinkers, not only managed to get served, but also found a bit of spacealong the bench seating, to rest my legs. With a final step total for the dayof over 26,000, I must have reached at least 20k by that stage, so somewhere topark my behind was much appreciated. There was a good, mixed crowd of drinkersin the Peveril, that afternoon, but the service from the youngsters behind thebar was quick and efficient.
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The cask beers were from Millstone (Tiger Rut), Titanic(Plum Porter – of course), and Brightside Brewing (Mancunian Hoppy Blonde). Iwent for the latter, and it proved a good choice, as according to my entry onUntappd, I rated it as the "best beer of the trip," so far! Despite theexcellence of the beer, I’d reached that mid-afternoon lull, where you justwant to slow things down, chill out and sit there, taking everything in. I’mreasonably certain I’d been to the Peveril before,but as I said before, one’s memory plays tricks after half a century. One thingI do remember is the pub sold Wilson’s ales back then, and despite the breweryand its brands being owned by Watney’s, Wilson’s Original Bitter was availablein cask form, and wasn’t a bad drop.
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Time was marching on, so I decided to head back towardsPiccadilly. The intensity of the rain had increased by now, so I was glad ofthe pack-a-mack I’d brought with me. My route took me passed Manchester Central Station, once one of the city’s main railway terminals, but closed to trains in1969, when it was deemed surplus to requirements. I remember the station frommy time in Manchester. It had only been closed for a few years, but it had thatuncared for and unkempt look about it, and was used, at the time as a car-park.
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The Greater Manchester Council bought the building in 1982,and work began on converting it into an exhibition centre. This opened in 1986as the Greater Manchester Exhibition and Conference Centre or G-Mex, althoughit was subsequently renamed Manchester Central, in honour of its railwayhistory. The venue hosts the annual Manchester Beer Festival, held each Januaryby the Manchester branches of CAMRA.I was using my Smartphone to help me navigate my way backinto the city centre, when I received a WhatsApp message from Martin, informingme of the time of his train home, and asking if I was about for a final half?After a further exchange of messages, we settled on the City Arms, close to theCentral Library, so I made my way there, and found him waiting for me inside.The pub was packed, and with no chance of a seat we made our way to the bar,where the choice of beer was Odin, from Brightside Brewing, plus threeofferings from Neptune. The latter are a micro-brewery from Merseyside.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg26ag1-H8syHc25fjTExZhMnAzWhxPKVvmuIOPMeX7IewzF8jNisRNRVi MwI_d0K2gKYqdbrgW6RRmbTbN45jmwt0QevENyfdFCutQY-M7H6y8sndBm8_SFBYeH-_KbLKzgr1fwtSlsdwNVOybjhCfRbB6iAoLjZCkTczKKYW1MAZa SuZmIADHg1TEf0/w400-h228/City%20Vine.%201.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg26ag1-H8syHc25fjTExZhMnAzWhxPKVvmuIOPMeX7IewzF8jNisRNRVi MwI_d0K2gKYqdbrgW6RRmbTbN45jmwt0QevENyfdFCutQY-M7H6y8sndBm8_SFBYeH-_KbLKzgr1fwtSlsdwNVOybjhCfRbB6iAoLjZCkTczKKYW1MAZa SuZmIADHg1TEf0/s3894/City%20Vine.%201.jpg)
I opted for Neptune's Wooden Ships, because it reminded me ofthe classic, laid-back track of the same name, recorded by both Jefferson Airplane and Crosby,Stills & Nash (I like both versions,
btw). This American style, pale alewas, according to my Untappd notes, slightly hazy, but perfectly drinkable. Untappdalso records that I ticked this beer at the Vine Inn, which is next door, andthe Oakham Citra that I enjoyed later at the Vine, was supped in the City Arms.- talk about the perils of retrospective entries, whilst under the influence ofslightly too much beer! Returning briefly to the City Arms, we did manage tofind a space to at least stand in peace, even though it was in the corridor,leading back out to the street. Sited behind the serving area, and with its ownhatch for those desperate for a drink, it was a little cramped, but it was Fridayafternoon in a city that knows how to have a good time.
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Martin and I parted company after this. His train departed 45minutes before mine, which meant I still had time for one last beer and one finalpub from my list. As mentioned above, the Vine Inn is next door to the CityArms, and if you want an even longer pub stagger, without the “crawl” then theWaterhouse, which is the other side of the City Arms, is the pub for you. ThisJDW outlet also extends right through to the street behind, but there wasn’ttime for a visit, it wasn't a pub back in 1975 and, more importantly, it wasn’t on the list.
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I thanked Martin for his company, and for taking time outfrom his busy schedule as he set off, through the rain, to catch his train. I steppedstraight into the Vine Inn and was surprised to find it a lot quieter than itsimmediate neighbour. I didn’t take any photos of the interior, but there was aroom, at the left which extended to the rear of the pub. The bar counter was onthe right, but there was also a separate drinking area, up some steps to theright of this. The lack of photographic evidence means the only beer I canreport on is the Oakham Citra, which was in fine form.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDZo7YoAoZAU1uKF-fdMx15hEMj_nPC8uaXtMDZjG7eaRTLrkLcSxs0SXysH4YmScEu RhwGPL36C_-u4HYJuFF2lhTyBd9ggdgzXE2q4JrMKDqSVjDdJW5MiZMr8OwIL loXZB1jyQBnG2oxaAqpLwZvsT4FgNnGprhkXfTCAZQ7prUG5Nj W1iTaxoxDx0/w400-h225/Piccadilly%20Gardens.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDZo7YoAoZAU1uKF-fdMx15hEMj_nPC8uaXtMDZjG7eaRTLrkLcSxs0SXysH4YmScEu RhwGPL36C_-u4HYJuFF2lhTyBd9ggdgzXE2q4JrMKDqSVjDdJW5MiZMr8OwIL loXZB1jyQBnG2oxaAqpLwZvsT4FgNnGprhkXfTCAZQ7prUG5Nj W1iTaxoxDx0/s4000/Piccadilly%20Gardens.jpg)
It was my turn now to depart, so I took a leisurely stroll backto the station, stopping on the way to pick up a “meal deal” from the Greggs,opposite Piccadilly Gardens. The roast chicken sub-roll, with mayo and watercress,combined with the bag of crisps and bottle of water, formed the perfect “trainpicnic” – as my Irish work colleague would describe it, especially whencombined with a coffee, purchased at the station. Retrospective apologies though,to the girl I sat next to, and the one opposite as well, although I’d like to think Iconsumed my feast as politely and delicately as possible.
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I only sat there, as I had a reserved seat, but with only ahandful of additional passengers boarding at Stockport, I could perhaps havemoved to an empty one. That also, might have seemed rude, but as I didn’t nodoff, and start snoring, I stayed put. It was my immediate fellow travellers whodozed off, but the magazine I had with me, plus the ever-changing views from thewindow, as the train sped south, were sufficient to keep me awake. The trainwas around 20 minutes late into Euston, not that it mattered, as there wasplenty of time for my connection back to Tonbridge. It was the Northern Lineagain, but this time to Charing Cross, which meant slightly less walking, thanat London Bridge.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdTwmK6WoPUGdsH57mwV7t1_IzWW3F40mALXEG01ShMd 0zcrUoSBTh2l99uuqa0aPSC6VDxQ9X6KuDX5f7nIF89wKaDP9b WDFW0hdsOvDeVESinPH5pU9QUVNGSc3DwdSI6KLzvEB7RI9FPr JWuF44oK3W2zWCgw6SkuxaW5BOCdJ2Qd2wOBRgUtXyghA/w400-h220/Sail%20away.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdTwmK6WoPUGdsH57mwV7t1_IzWW3F40mALXEG01ShMd 0zcrUoSBTh2l99uuqa0aPSC6VDxQ9X6KuDX5f7nIF89wKaDP9b WDFW0hdsOvDeVESinPH5pU9QUVNGSc3DwdSI6KLzvEB7RI9FPr JWuF44oK3W2zWCgw6SkuxaW5BOCdJ2Qd2wOBRgUtXyghA/s3806/Sail%20away.jpg)
I really enjoyed my long overdue return to Manchester andthe only puzzling thing is, why did I leave it so long? The only answer I canput forward is that life got in the way. Working 9-5, raising a family, changingjobs, and having to deal with the everyday stuff that life throws at us. Therewas also the six-year period when Eileen and I had our off-license, a taskwhere we were virtually tied to the business, with very little free time forholidays or even the odd day out.Don’t make the same mistake, make time for those trips, goand visit those friends and relatives you’ve been promising to see for ages,book that special holiday you’ve been promising yourself and set out on thatlong-distance trail you’ve wanted to do, since way back when. I’d like to thinkthat with the new found freedom that comes from being semi-retired that I’ve atleast been doing some of these things, but there’s still plenty more to do. Theonly question now, is what comes next?
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