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29-03-2024, 07:08
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Having a train to catch, my breakfast appointment with Mike is a little earlier, at 8:30.
Mike is already there when I get to the breakfast room.
There are fried eggs today. I get one. Along with scrambled egg, mushrooms and quite a lot of bacon. I still daren’t take a sausage. With tea, today. Why not? They have fairly decent tea.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgozgyuUNjhfSEh03a_s2cg42h1vTTUcnMaRGT-QUuN8hI2esWLcdJ5DFeXfdsOQWkkmLJqGhmgzKTCUg92pfRh1U xm5cLqfiZ73T77XnRFhlkj331CwnFc4tEAYsB5Mmoa1kjHzojf fYMn8HdxtSVZpv9R9-67gTlRFyeMbEQrvsBcVoqx7PGUsf8kj38/w640-h480/Derby_breakfast_2.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgozgyuUNjhfSEh03a_s2cg42h1vTTUcnMaRGT-QUuN8hI2esWLcdJ5DFeXfdsOQWkkmLJqGhmgzKTCUg92pfRh1U xm5cLqfiZ73T77XnRFhlkj331CwnFc4tEAYsB5Mmoa1kjHzojf fYMn8HdxtSVZpv9R9-67gTlRFyeMbEQrvsBcVoqx7PGUsf8kj38/s4000/Derby_breakfast_2.jpg)
When I meet Mike at the hotel entrance a little later, I immediately notice my mistake. He has his luggage with him. We’re checking out today. I rush back to my room and quickly pack.
Luckily, we’ve still some time before our train leaves. We’re at the station in plenty of time. For our train to Birmingham. Changing there for our final destination of Tipton.
There’s a strange bunch on the platform. Young men in suits carrying bottles of beer. It’s not yet 10 AM. Quite a way off still, in fact. After we’ve wedged ourselves into our seats, we discover why. When an announcement mentions the connecting train to Cheltenham. Where the festival is currently taking place.
Birmingham New Street is as depressingly subterranean as always. What a shit station this is. Almost as bad as Penn Station. Well, maybe not that bad. But still pretty shit.
Fortunately, we don’t have to wait long for our train to Tipton. A local train which, surprisingly, has more legroom than the express we just got off. Don’t you just love English trains?
We arrive at our lodgings far too early to check in. Even too early to get a pint. We’re staying in a pub: Mad O’Rourke’s Pie Factory (https://www.madorourkes.com). It’s nothing like the monstrosity I imagined. It’s a 1920s pub that’s been pretty much left alone. Other than lots of pie-related décor.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3PopDsduhehyphenhyphenkRp9XMbnYA8xhH3L5hSJ-Et-8XB17yIRF56WFBxWfAgEb6EWNOnBj6qtCYZNrClnsubaU8vcsk RkkBoda39aUeSJn8rrjvlP7fwJJHodpvZA1CMmYWlWPn2ebu7i ku-LvtePnX-8J0UojuIupQOPlfcJ1257ISgEzwNBY9FicFazJrp4/w640-h480/Pie_Factory.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3PopDsduhehyphenhyphenkRp9XMbnYA8xhH3L5hSJ-Et-8XB17yIRF56WFBxWfAgEb6EWNOnBj6qtCYZNrClnsubaU8vcsk RkkBoda39aUeSJn8rrjvlP7fwJJHodpvZA1CMmYWlWPn2ebu7i ku-LvtePnX-8J0UojuIupQOPlfcJ1257ISgEzwNBY9FicFazJrp4/s4000/Pie_Factory.jpg)
Though, when we go upstairs to leave our bags it looks a little grim. Doesn’t bode well for the rooms.
We head for today’s appointment at Holden’s. Which isn’t far away. We’re stupidly early for our 13:00 meeting. But the nice lady on reception lets us wait in an office come storeroom.
I’m a bit shocked when George arrives. I knew he was young. Just not this young, looking barely out of school. He’s going to take us around some pubs. Great. First stop, the Beacon Hotel (http://www.sarahhughesbrewery.co.uk/).
From the car park, the compact brewery is clearly visible, clinging to the back of the pub.
“That’s the brewery.” I say to Mike, pointing. I’m sure he could probably work it out for himself.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMBJUxVJAZ4rlfr2DqZWwmaBVAybV1Itp_N4pkSVQDsC NOf_S30RMGQOM0jDeHbm0q5tUQGyzuMpJxxp4Bou_T6gxVOGM0 931yKY7D1_4TX-GbsREyxpnEaCxl0Ado0RrRhACy2z7DqOzyFb9SnL-BcfAEpdZ_4kWFV7jnpmujEwd9FtIOPPXQ1hn6N4c/w640-h430/Beacon_Hotel.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMBJUxVJAZ4rlfr2DqZWwmaBVAybV1Itp_N4pkSVQDsC NOf_S30RMGQOM0jDeHbm0q5tUQGyzuMpJxxp4Bou_T6gxVOGM0 931yKY7D1_4TX-GbsREyxpnEaCxl0Ado0RrRhACy2z7DqOzyFb9SnL-BcfAEpdZ_4kWFV7jnpmujEwd9FtIOPPXQ1hn6N4c/s4102/Beacon_Hotel.jpg)
It’s a wonderful pub. With multiple rooms and no real bar counter. Just serving hatches. No TVs, no music, just the hum of conversation and the occasional jingling of classes. Exactly how a proper pub should be.
Obviously, I have Sarah Hughes Mild. Highly sparklered, it has a dense head. It’s full and complex, if a little on the sweet side. It is 6% ABV, though. Too sweet for Mike, he moves over to Bitter.
Even though we show up only about half an hour after opening, it’s still fairly busy. Though the customers are on the old side. I guess all the young people are at work.
“Do you fancy a cob?” George asks. I know what he means. Mike looks confused.
“It’s a roll. A very traditional pub snack.”
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBK9InLN5twG1ZUUYWNGt4hNC9nEN1WqMe8WtRprmdU 8jdj6ZxC5z67PbvZ39PrDJMXD8SUI3YrMPxsVoV2vgyEOzrcL8 OwoJyS-GJGtTE9PwSdyS0g84afqVWzzmrYQ9x-vTQ37M3FWJKmf9iEiMMmPM7bQEk7Z2z2Dmb1RBZlItt9evd_JC 04h5Mcs/w640-h480/cob_and_pint.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBK9InLN5twG1ZUUYWNGt4hNC9nEN1WqMe8WtRprmdU 8jdj6ZxC5z67PbvZ39PrDJMXD8SUI3YrMPxsVoV2vgyEOzrcL8 OwoJyS-GJGtTE9PwSdyS0g84afqVWzzmrYQ9x-vTQ37M3FWJKmf9iEiMMmPM7bQEk7Z2z2Dmb1RBZlItt9evd_JC 04h5Mcs/s4000/cob_and_pint.jpg)
The ones here are cheese and onion. Very nice. Just right for soaking up a pint or two. We get one each.
Next stop is a bit of a drive away in Wolverhampton. The Great Western, just around the back of the station.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQX4-WLuAHX8RNs9ruFtru9f34RwvhjkbsAw4CHKDpsGLeXEhhknn08 m5zlbS2B6DvSohJ0hyEvj4autuF-Xs8OoRs67bXmuUZDnJsFDQYk6AH2FBI5dP6t0NVkQxwQLOUeNT df0wk-WM5enxBFgFc7iPXQRvG2ON8BHS45S7OfrGhQPE3WGB0oSzinLo/w640-h480/Great_Western.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQX4-WLuAHX8RNs9ruFtru9f34RwvhjkbsAw4CHKDpsGLeXEhhknn08 m5zlbS2B6DvSohJ0hyEvj4autuF-Xs8OoRs67bXmuUZDnJsFDQYk6AH2FBI5dP6t0NVkQxwQLOUeNT df0wk-WM5enxBFgFc7iPXQRvG2ON8BHS45S7OfrGhQPE3WGB0oSzinLo/s4000/Great_Western.jpg)
“I wish I’d known about this place last time I was in Wolverhampton.” I remark.I really do. On my last visit I struggled to find anywhere to drink in the city centre. Let alone somewhere as interesting as a Holdens pub.
It has a full range of Holden’s beers and a couple of guests, including Batham’s. I get myself a Holden’s Mild. It’s so great seeing Mild everywhere.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivnySIvtBfx9PgBZ0ohDqH8TH1MQsVrj2Gid_tlyOVzW 8whLCCCfDjl7r2FK2iYRwYOdY6AeTqFh4KuK_xr-jES60TIpzqiiDOR1KK0FKK5nD0rpuB5sLyAH6bQwma9vS57pXs L6GRqUF56_1jxv7DoBRbgnfBTxGXRlX2VWnv1t4XKAn3dmi9zn 0u0ns/w640-h480/Holdens_pints.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivnySIvtBfx9PgBZ0ohDqH8TH1MQsVrj2Gid_tlyOVzW 8whLCCCfDjl7r2FK2iYRwYOdY6AeTqFh4KuK_xr-jES60TIpzqiiDOR1KK0FKK5nD0rpuB5sLyAH6bQwma9vS57pXs L6GRqUF56_1jxv7DoBRbgnfBTxGXRlX2VWnv1t4XKAn3dmi9zn 0u0ns/s4000/Holdens_pints.jpg)
The pub is pretty busy, with a lot of people eating. Though, once again, it’s mostly older men. I’m really starting to worry about the future of pubs. Based on what I’ve seen in the Midlands, in twenty years; time pubs will be deserted. If any of them are still open.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9gmxgW2GXQqo6I81kg7kRL2qL2HS2HxVk_kmyoei2M yv-YzF645NvzwTq7jrHXVfA8JLaqOyE6kb57ArD1Xwgt28X5tJ-FHOFVmfaJsaFqF3Q77wne4c2ROzu1nMdGSyOcrno9kRB9sw1Sy ctGDibKx5W_33ESbk_2UmUL0dADb88H53lYZKPSa2O0c/w640-h480/Great_Western_inside.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9gmxgW2GXQqo6I81kg7kRL2qL2HS2HxVk_kmyoei2M yv-YzF645NvzwTq7jrHXVfA8JLaqOyE6kb57ArD1Xwgt28X5tJ-FHOFVmfaJsaFqF3Q77wne4c2ROzu1nMdGSyOcrno9kRB9sw1Sy ctGDibKx5W_33ESbk_2UmUL0dADb88H53lYZKPSa2O0c/s4000/Great_Western_inside.jpg)
George is very enthusiastic and seems to have already performed lots of different tasks around the brewery, despite his young age. He’s been left in charge of the brewery for a couple of weeks while the rest of the family is on holiday.
“Nice of them to go away and leave you to do all the work.” I say. He doesn’t seem to mind. I suppose it’s good practice for when he takes on running the place full time in five years or so.
Unsurprisingly, given its name and location, the walls are covered in railway memorabilia. I move on to Holden’s Bitter for my next pint. It’s dry, refreshing and rather nice.
[I learn later that the pub was originally the tap of M & B’s Springfield Brewery, A brewery whose beers I really liked. Springfield Bitter, Dunkirk Pale Ale.]
Mad O'Rourke's Pie Factory (https://www.madorourkes.com)
Hurst Lane, Tipton,
West Midlands DY4 9AB
https://www.madorourkes.com
The Beacon Hotel (http://www.sarahhughesbrewery.co.uk/)
129 Bilston St,
Sedgley,
Dudley DY3 1JE.
http://www.sarahhughesbrewery.co.uk/
The Great Western
Corn Hill,
Wolverhampton WV10 0DG.
Disclosure: my travel and all expenses were paid by Goose Island.
More... (http://barclayperkins.blogspot.com/2024/03/black-country.html)
Having a train to catch, my breakfast appointment with Mike is a little earlier, at 8:30.
Mike is already there when I get to the breakfast room.
There are fried eggs today. I get one. Along with scrambled egg, mushrooms and quite a lot of bacon. I still daren’t take a sausage. With tea, today. Why not? They have fairly decent tea.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgozgyuUNjhfSEh03a_s2cg42h1vTTUcnMaRGT-QUuN8hI2esWLcdJ5DFeXfdsOQWkkmLJqGhmgzKTCUg92pfRh1U xm5cLqfiZ73T77XnRFhlkj331CwnFc4tEAYsB5Mmoa1kjHzojf fYMn8HdxtSVZpv9R9-67gTlRFyeMbEQrvsBcVoqx7PGUsf8kj38/w640-h480/Derby_breakfast_2.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgozgyuUNjhfSEh03a_s2cg42h1vTTUcnMaRGT-QUuN8hI2esWLcdJ5DFeXfdsOQWkkmLJqGhmgzKTCUg92pfRh1U xm5cLqfiZ73T77XnRFhlkj331CwnFc4tEAYsB5Mmoa1kjHzojf fYMn8HdxtSVZpv9R9-67gTlRFyeMbEQrvsBcVoqx7PGUsf8kj38/s4000/Derby_breakfast_2.jpg)
When I meet Mike at the hotel entrance a little later, I immediately notice my mistake. He has his luggage with him. We’re checking out today. I rush back to my room and quickly pack.
Luckily, we’ve still some time before our train leaves. We’re at the station in plenty of time. For our train to Birmingham. Changing there for our final destination of Tipton.
There’s a strange bunch on the platform. Young men in suits carrying bottles of beer. It’s not yet 10 AM. Quite a way off still, in fact. After we’ve wedged ourselves into our seats, we discover why. When an announcement mentions the connecting train to Cheltenham. Where the festival is currently taking place.
Birmingham New Street is as depressingly subterranean as always. What a shit station this is. Almost as bad as Penn Station. Well, maybe not that bad. But still pretty shit.
Fortunately, we don’t have to wait long for our train to Tipton. A local train which, surprisingly, has more legroom than the express we just got off. Don’t you just love English trains?
We arrive at our lodgings far too early to check in. Even too early to get a pint. We’re staying in a pub: Mad O’Rourke’s Pie Factory (https://www.madorourkes.com). It’s nothing like the monstrosity I imagined. It’s a 1920s pub that’s been pretty much left alone. Other than lots of pie-related décor.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3PopDsduhehyphenhyphenkRp9XMbnYA8xhH3L5hSJ-Et-8XB17yIRF56WFBxWfAgEb6EWNOnBj6qtCYZNrClnsubaU8vcsk RkkBoda39aUeSJn8rrjvlP7fwJJHodpvZA1CMmYWlWPn2ebu7i ku-LvtePnX-8J0UojuIupQOPlfcJ1257ISgEzwNBY9FicFazJrp4/w640-h480/Pie_Factory.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3PopDsduhehyphenhyphenkRp9XMbnYA8xhH3L5hSJ-Et-8XB17yIRF56WFBxWfAgEb6EWNOnBj6qtCYZNrClnsubaU8vcsk RkkBoda39aUeSJn8rrjvlP7fwJJHodpvZA1CMmYWlWPn2ebu7i ku-LvtePnX-8J0UojuIupQOPlfcJ1257ISgEzwNBY9FicFazJrp4/s4000/Pie_Factory.jpg)
Though, when we go upstairs to leave our bags it looks a little grim. Doesn’t bode well for the rooms.
We head for today’s appointment at Holden’s. Which isn’t far away. We’re stupidly early for our 13:00 meeting. But the nice lady on reception lets us wait in an office come storeroom.
I’m a bit shocked when George arrives. I knew he was young. Just not this young, looking barely out of school. He’s going to take us around some pubs. Great. First stop, the Beacon Hotel (http://www.sarahhughesbrewery.co.uk/).
From the car park, the compact brewery is clearly visible, clinging to the back of the pub.
“That’s the brewery.” I say to Mike, pointing. I’m sure he could probably work it out for himself.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMBJUxVJAZ4rlfr2DqZWwmaBVAybV1Itp_N4pkSVQDsC NOf_S30RMGQOM0jDeHbm0q5tUQGyzuMpJxxp4Bou_T6gxVOGM0 931yKY7D1_4TX-GbsREyxpnEaCxl0Ado0RrRhACy2z7DqOzyFb9SnL-BcfAEpdZ_4kWFV7jnpmujEwd9FtIOPPXQ1hn6N4c/w640-h430/Beacon_Hotel.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMBJUxVJAZ4rlfr2DqZWwmaBVAybV1Itp_N4pkSVQDsC NOf_S30RMGQOM0jDeHbm0q5tUQGyzuMpJxxp4Bou_T6gxVOGM0 931yKY7D1_4TX-GbsREyxpnEaCxl0Ado0RrRhACy2z7DqOzyFb9SnL-BcfAEpdZ_4kWFV7jnpmujEwd9FtIOPPXQ1hn6N4c/s4102/Beacon_Hotel.jpg)
It’s a wonderful pub. With multiple rooms and no real bar counter. Just serving hatches. No TVs, no music, just the hum of conversation and the occasional jingling of classes. Exactly how a proper pub should be.
Obviously, I have Sarah Hughes Mild. Highly sparklered, it has a dense head. It’s full and complex, if a little on the sweet side. It is 6% ABV, though. Too sweet for Mike, he moves over to Bitter.
Even though we show up only about half an hour after opening, it’s still fairly busy. Though the customers are on the old side. I guess all the young people are at work.
“Do you fancy a cob?” George asks. I know what he means. Mike looks confused.
“It’s a roll. A very traditional pub snack.”
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBK9InLN5twG1ZUUYWNGt4hNC9nEN1WqMe8WtRprmdU 8jdj6ZxC5z67PbvZ39PrDJMXD8SUI3YrMPxsVoV2vgyEOzrcL8 OwoJyS-GJGtTE9PwSdyS0g84afqVWzzmrYQ9x-vTQ37M3FWJKmf9iEiMMmPM7bQEk7Z2z2Dmb1RBZlItt9evd_JC 04h5Mcs/w640-h480/cob_and_pint.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBK9InLN5twG1ZUUYWNGt4hNC9nEN1WqMe8WtRprmdU 8jdj6ZxC5z67PbvZ39PrDJMXD8SUI3YrMPxsVoV2vgyEOzrcL8 OwoJyS-GJGtTE9PwSdyS0g84afqVWzzmrYQ9x-vTQ37M3FWJKmf9iEiMMmPM7bQEk7Z2z2Dmb1RBZlItt9evd_JC 04h5Mcs/s4000/cob_and_pint.jpg)
The ones here are cheese and onion. Very nice. Just right for soaking up a pint or two. We get one each.
Next stop is a bit of a drive away in Wolverhampton. The Great Western, just around the back of the station.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQX4-WLuAHX8RNs9ruFtru9f34RwvhjkbsAw4CHKDpsGLeXEhhknn08 m5zlbS2B6DvSohJ0hyEvj4autuF-Xs8OoRs67bXmuUZDnJsFDQYk6AH2FBI5dP6t0NVkQxwQLOUeNT df0wk-WM5enxBFgFc7iPXQRvG2ON8BHS45S7OfrGhQPE3WGB0oSzinLo/w640-h480/Great_Western.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQX4-WLuAHX8RNs9ruFtru9f34RwvhjkbsAw4CHKDpsGLeXEhhknn08 m5zlbS2B6DvSohJ0hyEvj4autuF-Xs8OoRs67bXmuUZDnJsFDQYk6AH2FBI5dP6t0NVkQxwQLOUeNT df0wk-WM5enxBFgFc7iPXQRvG2ON8BHS45S7OfrGhQPE3WGB0oSzinLo/s4000/Great_Western.jpg)
“I wish I’d known about this place last time I was in Wolverhampton.” I remark.I really do. On my last visit I struggled to find anywhere to drink in the city centre. Let alone somewhere as interesting as a Holdens pub.
It has a full range of Holden’s beers and a couple of guests, including Batham’s. I get myself a Holden’s Mild. It’s so great seeing Mild everywhere.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivnySIvtBfx9PgBZ0ohDqH8TH1MQsVrj2Gid_tlyOVzW 8whLCCCfDjl7r2FK2iYRwYOdY6AeTqFh4KuK_xr-jES60TIpzqiiDOR1KK0FKK5nD0rpuB5sLyAH6bQwma9vS57pXs L6GRqUF56_1jxv7DoBRbgnfBTxGXRlX2VWnv1t4XKAn3dmi9zn 0u0ns/w640-h480/Holdens_pints.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivnySIvtBfx9PgBZ0ohDqH8TH1MQsVrj2Gid_tlyOVzW 8whLCCCfDjl7r2FK2iYRwYOdY6AeTqFh4KuK_xr-jES60TIpzqiiDOR1KK0FKK5nD0rpuB5sLyAH6bQwma9vS57pXs L6GRqUF56_1jxv7DoBRbgnfBTxGXRlX2VWnv1t4XKAn3dmi9zn 0u0ns/s4000/Holdens_pints.jpg)
The pub is pretty busy, with a lot of people eating. Though, once again, it’s mostly older men. I’m really starting to worry about the future of pubs. Based on what I’ve seen in the Midlands, in twenty years; time pubs will be deserted. If any of them are still open.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9gmxgW2GXQqo6I81kg7kRL2qL2HS2HxVk_kmyoei2M yv-YzF645NvzwTq7jrHXVfA8JLaqOyE6kb57ArD1Xwgt28X5tJ-FHOFVmfaJsaFqF3Q77wne4c2ROzu1nMdGSyOcrno9kRB9sw1Sy ctGDibKx5W_33ESbk_2UmUL0dADb88H53lYZKPSa2O0c/w640-h480/Great_Western_inside.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9gmxgW2GXQqo6I81kg7kRL2qL2HS2HxVk_kmyoei2M yv-YzF645NvzwTq7jrHXVfA8JLaqOyE6kb57ArD1Xwgt28X5tJ-FHOFVmfaJsaFqF3Q77wne4c2ROzu1nMdGSyOcrno9kRB9sw1Sy ctGDibKx5W_33ESbk_2UmUL0dADb88H53lYZKPSa2O0c/s4000/Great_Western_inside.jpg)
George is very enthusiastic and seems to have already performed lots of different tasks around the brewery, despite his young age. He’s been left in charge of the brewery for a couple of weeks while the rest of the family is on holiday.
“Nice of them to go away and leave you to do all the work.” I say. He doesn’t seem to mind. I suppose it’s good practice for when he takes on running the place full time in five years or so.
Unsurprisingly, given its name and location, the walls are covered in railway memorabilia. I move on to Holden’s Bitter for my next pint. It’s dry, refreshing and rather nice.
[I learn later that the pub was originally the tap of M & B’s Springfield Brewery, A brewery whose beers I really liked. Springfield Bitter, Dunkirk Pale Ale.]
Mad O'Rourke's Pie Factory (https://www.madorourkes.com)
Hurst Lane, Tipton,
West Midlands DY4 9AB
https://www.madorourkes.com
The Beacon Hotel (http://www.sarahhughesbrewery.co.uk/)
129 Bilston St,
Sedgley,
Dudley DY3 1JE.
http://www.sarahhughesbrewery.co.uk/
The Great Western
Corn Hill,
Wolverhampton WV10 0DG.
Disclosure: my travel and all expenses were paid by Goose Island.
More... (http://barclayperkins.blogspot.com/2024/03/black-country.html)