26-03-2020, 08:21 AM
Well this keeps us somewhat distracted in these interesting times. There are the makings of a book, probably entitled "Cut Side Pubs We Remember Entering" largely because there were times we don't remember leaving. I'd delivered coal by boat to the Bird In Hand a couple of times. When the Churnet Valley just had a few sand trains and the river and towpath weren't opened up to walkers, the Black Lion at Consall Forge really did seem to inhabit a secret universe.
No longer on the cut, but here in the Marches, a few pubs like that remain. Aunty Isobel at the Cornwell Arms at Cloddock has a sort of a bar but is still much more like the family front room than a pub. The Sun at Leintwardine had the utterly traditional landlady sitting to welcome you, if you had ever been there before you'd know that you were meant to turn left to get your own beer before going to sit down. That pub was rescued by the community and whilst a bit tidier the last time I went in was still pretty original. It has now got a bit liberal, so you are invited to get your supper from the very good chippie nearly next door. (You can cross the road and look to see what machines are outside Nick Williams' workshop. Last time I peered under the tarpaulin there was a Hispano Suiza chassis as well as a big Morris. I have not suggested that.)
Perhaps Hedd lives too far to the West, or as it was all at least a quarter of a century ago is too young to remember the Steam Weekends at the Hollybush, which marked the end of the hotel boat season but attracted a great range of steam and many historic boats on the cut and down on the Weaver. I think the Cheshire Constabulary decided to ignore the whole thing, traction engines pulling truck loads of passengers, trips on the back of Peter Foude's Sentinel, and the Kerne giving rides to rather more than twelve people on the river. It was certainly the only pub I'd ever used which had a formally named "Steam Committee Room."
Right, to work. The dear lady wife has requested an inventory of all the tins of paint in the stores, and an indication of which ones might still be useable. I'm going out, I may be some time!
No longer on the cut, but here in the Marches, a few pubs like that remain. Aunty Isobel at the Cornwell Arms at Cloddock has a sort of a bar but is still much more like the family front room than a pub. The Sun at Leintwardine had the utterly traditional landlady sitting to welcome you, if you had ever been there before you'd know that you were meant to turn left to get your own beer before going to sit down. That pub was rescued by the community and whilst a bit tidier the last time I went in was still pretty original. It has now got a bit liberal, so you are invited to get your supper from the very good chippie nearly next door. (You can cross the road and look to see what machines are outside Nick Williams' workshop. Last time I peered under the tarpaulin there was a Hispano Suiza chassis as well as a big Morris. I have not suggested that.)
Perhaps Hedd lives too far to the West, or as it was all at least a quarter of a century ago is too young to remember the Steam Weekends at the Hollybush, which marked the end of the hotel boat season but attracted a great range of steam and many historic boats on the cut and down on the Weaver. I think the Cheshire Constabulary decided to ignore the whole thing, traction engines pulling truck loads of passengers, trips on the back of Peter Foude's Sentinel, and the Kerne giving rides to rather more than twelve people on the river. It was certainly the only pub I'd ever used which had a formally named "Steam Committee Room."
Right, to work. The dear lady wife has requested an inventory of all the tins of paint in the stores, and an indication of which ones might still be useable. I'm going out, I may be some time!