Old Lad

Pubs are in the news a lot at the moment- largely stories of pubs closing and the battle to make any profit. I’ve always liked pubs but the pub landscape has changed dramatically since I were a lad, as we say up North. In the 1950s when I grew up, pubs were mysterious places, largely frequented by men and completely off limits to children. I remember a regular summer family treat when my Dad would walk my brother and I to a pub alongside the East Lancashire Road – the highway that connected Manchester with Liverpool. He would leave us sitting on an embankment outside and disappear into the pub, emerging with two bottles of lemonade and two packets of crisps- the sort where the salt came in a small blue wrapper. We then would sit and watch the traffic ( simple pleasures!) while he went back inside for a pint. I didn’t go into a pub until I was in the sixth form at School, and believe it or not that was on a biology field trip. There were only 4 of us in the biology set and the teacher decided we should have a day out to look at Limestone Pavements. We went in his car and at lunchtime he took us into a pub and said we could have half a pint of beer each. I hadn’t much clue what to order but the only beer brand I recognised was Youngers Tartan Bitter. At that point in my life I decided I rather liked beer!

Going off to Medical School in Liverpool meant unfettered access to pubs. The Students Union boasted a bar with a line of 18 beer pumps with names I still remember, but many of which have nearly all disappeared – Watneys Red Barrel, Skoll Lager, Newcastle Brown, Long Life, Greenhall Whitley. Opposite the Royal Infirmary was a pub aptly named The Royal- a bit rough round the edges but a not uncommon site was the odd medic in a white coat taking a breather ( the pagers worked across the road!) By and large pubs were places for conversation- no music, no fruit machines, no children and food was basically crisps, nuts or that food of the gods – pork scratchings.

Contrast that with the modern pub scene which is that most establishments have been replaced with what I would call a restaurant that happens to have a bar. Food has taken over. The blame for this I lay at the door of Chicken in a Basket. This what was at the time a rather exotic concept, emerged in the early sixties closely followed by the mysterious Scampi. Landlords kept up with this bandwagon and gradually food became integral to pubs. This has led to several changes which in my mind have contributed to the demise of pubs. Firstly the majority smell of chips, secondly you rarely can sit at the bar, thirdly nearly all the seating is given over to tables set for food, and fourthly you often have to have a reservation! So finding a pub where you can have a quiet reflective pint is becoming difficult. And much as I enjoy chips I do not like the smell of them cooking! And don’t get me started about “Gastropubs”!

As us Old Lads get to be older lads, we quite like a tranquil pub to while away an hour or two. Fortunately for me a local oasis has arrived. In the town of Cockermouth there was a brewery with a long heritage called Jennings. Sadly about 3 years ago the mighty Carlsberg who had bought it closed it down. But about 18 months ago an enterprising group bought it and it has reopened as a craft brewery. And joy of joys they have opened a tap room. It has an eclectic mix of furnishings, no canned music, no fruit machines, doesn’t serve food but does have pork scratchings! So me and the spaniel have found our happy place. And we have defeated Chicken in a Basket!