I like a good pub crawl. My interest in the field began when I organised one around my home town the first Christmas I could legally drink back in 1991. The town had about 20 different places to quaff and a modest half of bitter in each seemed like a sensible (this is a relative term) thing to attempt. Thankfully it worked and then, as now, an occasional indulgence of 10 pints spread over 12 hours in the company of friends makes for a hugely enjoyable day.
The photo accompanying this piece was taken during a slightly less sensible endeavour. Not that the picture is wholly or even slightly representative of the occasion, I just like it because there’s a kid sitting at a bar. It was taken at some place in Hebden Bridge which I suspect no longer exists. My friend Rick was added to the picture for scale. We were attempting the ambitious (back then at any rate) feat of having a half in every pub along the A646 between Todmorden and Halifax which became known as the Burnley Road Pub Crawl.
The problem was I don’t think any of us had counted how many pubs there were before we started. In hindsight I think it was about 30. Over the course of the day I lost my camera (not the one that took this picture obviously), my memory of most of the late evening and probably a couple of years of my life. All of us who went on it agreed that 15 pints in a day is way too much. Well, except for Gaz, an ex-squaddie who just treated us with the contempt he rightly reserved for poofy, lightweight graduates.
My favourite memory of the day was of playing pool with my friend Andy in a pub named after some colour lion or other. The TV was showing Dad’s Army and at one point an air-raid siren went off in Walmington-on-Sea and Andy tried to shelter himself under the table. Not an easy feat given that he’s the best part of 6’ tall.
Of course these days, a similar venture would probably yield only about half as many pubs along the same stretch of road. Such has been the fate of the licensed trade over the past decade. Strangely mind, even though a good number have closed, my home town still has around 20 places to drink as new ones keep popping up. I’ve no idea how Sowerby Bridge has managed to buck the national trend – it must say a lot for the stout nature of the drinkers here.
And yes, most of them are very stout.
You may groan.
