Hoppy may have his “fire and finger” curses but the Old Boots curse is weather blighting an otherwise pleasant pub crawl, it was torrential rain in Derby, sleet and freezing winds on the Pennine Railale Trail and now wind and rain for Sheffield's Valley of Beer. After a late start I finally arrived in Sheffield about 1pm, some initial panic at not seeing the Sheffield Tap but soon resolved by looking at the correct end of platform 1. No one to meet here as I was flying solo today, drinking buddies being tied up with work, family crises or pecuniary misfortune. A full looking range of eight Thornbridge beers plus a good selection of decent Europeans on tap and a shed load of excellent bottles, naturally a beer menu is available. Eschewing the Jaipur for obvious reasons I plumped for the weakest Thornbridge, Wild Swan at 3.5%, as expected a golden hop monster but just right to settle the dust. A quick look round and then off to find a tram. No tramlines where I expected to find some so after a short, sharp walk uphill to the Cathedral I caught the tram up to the Langsett, Primrose View stop for a reasonable £1.70. Precious few primroses to view here but a short walk down the hill and I was at the Hillsborough Hotel. Another eight pumps to choose from and as it's their brewery I had the Crown Hillsborough Pale Ale, another golden and hoppy beer. Taking a seat with a view of the pumps I noticed a lad with a professional looking video camera filming various customers. Turning his camera on me I gave an hopefully Oscar winning virtuoso pint draining performance, one for the cutting room floor I fear but you never know! I asked what it was for and he replied he was “just making a documentary about Alice, that girl in the corner” that naturally explained everything. I will also mention my “Geek of the Week”, a young IT fellow with a couple of dozen USB memory sticks dangling off his belt – the modern equivalent of half of WH Smiths pen stock in a breast pocket I suppose.
Having finished my pint in a misjudged bid for Hollywood stardom I left and turned down the hill following the tram lines. A fair walk to the Wellington, the only pub between the two (George IV) looking closed, at least it's downhill and the rain had slackened off. A longer route to the Wellington would have taken in the Gardener's Rest but I'll save that for next time. The Wellington is easily spotted from afar with a big white sign proclaiming the “Bottom Wellie - the ancestral home of the Little Ale Cart beer & pub company”. That made the choice from 10 handpumps easy and a pint of their Ormond was bought. Another golden and hoppy beer with a bit of a Burton snatch to it. The landlord could have come straight off the pages of The Real Ale Twats with his formidable beard and rotund figure, his cellphone ringtone is a few bars of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, I didn't catch his name. Framed copies of the first three RAT cartoons are actually hung in the corridor leading from the bar to the toilets and smoking area. Very much a CAMRA pub, it's half pints and satchel country in here. Leaving the Wellington and looking down the valley to the right, the gable end of the Ship Inn is very prominent and it looks a short walk but sadly this is Sheffield and the A61 lies between the two pubs. A major Yorkshire artery it is a very busy road and I'm too old to try dashing across six carriageways of fast moving traffic. So after an interminable wait for the lights and a small detour through the urban wastes, although with enough Victorian industrial buildings to satisfy my inner industrial archaeologist, I found the front door of the Ship. This has a magnificent tiled and half timbered front advertising Tomlinson's Anchor Ales, sadly the interior is less magnificent, but three handpumps lurking in a corner of the counter serve well kept beers, I had another Wild Swan, the others being Hardy and Hansons and something from Wentworth I think, called Bumblebeer which I took to be one of those detestable honeyed beers. The Wild Swan was 6p cheaper than in the Sheffield Tap as well as being just as good. Not a CAMRA member or ticker in sight just a group of locals discussing the Falklands and Portsmouth FC who had just gone bust that day. Still a few pubs to go so a short walk down Dun Street and Green Lane, noting the location of the Milestone for future reference and passing the splendid but derelict, Green Lane Works building and the Bulls Head Hotel, a former pub with a carved front advertising "Albion 6X Beers & Stouts". At the end of Green Lane the road forks, ahead is the Kelham Island Tavern and to the left the Fat Cat. I went straight on and into the award winning Kelham Island Tavern. Time for a change from hoppy stuff and as the KIT always serves at least one MILD or Porter I had an Acorn Madness, a “black as yer 'at” porter and an excellent beer from one of my favourite brewers. A cheese bun was also most welcome after the aperitif qualities of hoppy beer. The local CAMRA branch seems to store boxes of spare copies of its monthly magazine “Beer Matters” in this pub, odd but probably just convenient. A turn to the right on leaving and a short walk leads to the Fat Cat, home of the Kelham Island Brewery. In the front porch you are faced with a set of double doors in front but another more inconspicuous door to your right, this is the door that leads to the bar counter and a formidable choice of ales, ok 12. Through the double doors is a drinking lobby with a serving hatch. I tried a Tigertops wheat mild and went through to the comfortable lounge on the other side of the lobby. Every time I've been here the same group of three or four friendly old lads are sat in the corner putting the world to right. I had planned to go from here to the Harlequin but after turning left into Corporation Street and crossing the River Don I spotted the Riverside and thought well why not have just a quick one in here. This is a large quite trendy type of place with 7 handpumps of mainly microbrewery ales, I had an Isle of Purbeck Fossilfuel, a long way from its Dorset home and not a bad beer, not great but drinkable and tasty. The barmaid was up a ladder when I arrived, sadly for Perv's Galore wearing jeans not a short skirt. Other than that it was a pretty quiet place but then it was only early evening. What a change when I got to the Harlequin, only a short walk, and another crossing of one of the gaping wounds that modern roads require, away from the Riverside. It was filled to bursting with happy drinkers enjoying the start of the weekend. 14 handpumps to choose from so perhaps its popularity isn't that surprising, although there were quite a few lager drinkers in. My choice was Mallinsons Volga Porter, brewed in Huddersfield by a nice young lady called Tara and damn good it was too. This was the last pint of the crawl as the train deadline was fast approaching, making good time on the walk to the station I had just enough time for a swift half of Jaipur in the now packed out Sheffield Tap before pouring myself onto the train.
