Strap yourselves in for a lengthy blog. There is much work for the Good Beer Guide Pub Ticker to do in a town that contains the National Brewery Centre.
And as is often the case, pub of the day wasn't in even in the Bible.
The route from an out of town Premier Inn required a grim industrial walk past the Marmite Factory. I aim for the furthest Northern entry first, but high temperatures dictate a stop at the Alfred.
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| Starting at the most Southerly point |
The Alfred, Derby Street, Burton Bridge Bitter
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| Stopping Off |
This pub tells me all I need to know about Burton. The beer, as you would expect from the brewery's tied house, was excellent. The punters were, and how can I say this delicately, a little odd.
The bar man asks for £3.10 and I hand over a note. The lady sitting at the bar demands to know if I have 10p in change and I say No. She then tells her audience of two that she cannot stand punters that are too lazy to provide the correct change.
And she doesn't even bloody well work there.
The Derby Inn, Derby Road, Bass
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| The Derby Inn |
A proper pub, proud of its entry in the Bible and Cask Marque Status. It was a tough choice between the lesser spotted TT Boltmaker and the first Bass of the day. The Red Triangle won.
Nothing to report punter wise.... there was a man describing himself as "ever the diploment" after every insult he slung at the Landlord and a man who ordered a pint and asked politely if he could use the toilet. He was gone some time.
The National Brewery Centre, St Modwen Golden Ale
Inspired by the views, I make a break from boozers for a bit of culture.
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| Walking through a Burton Wonderland |
£11.95 gets you unlimited time to develop nightmares from the animatronics and look at old brewery vehicles. You also get three vouchers to turn into beer in the Tap House on the way out.
The highlight was not this;
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| Man in A Vat |
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| Nor This feeble attempt to recreate the Coach and Horses in Soho |
It was of course the "model village" representation of Burton hidden on the third floor of the main building. You got to press buttons to make things light up and more than anything else, it explained to me Burton's fairly unique industrial town centre lay out.
Next up came a couple of closed ones. You can't expect a clean sweep on a Sunday but I could have come back at 7pm for the second daily opening of the Burton Bridge Inn. There's no way I would have come back on Tuesday for a micropub.
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| One for another day |
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| One not for another day |
The Dog, Lichfield Street, Bass
It's a walk down the quite terrifying high street. Street drinkers are entertained by Motorheads Ace of Spades blasting from an unknown source.
A bit like me, the Dog has found itself out of its normal territory. It must be the Furthest Black Country Ales pub from home but follows their well defined blueprint. Multiple hand pulls in a classic pub environment. I passed on their only scracthings, wondering what the world had come to when they were described as chilli infused.
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| Quiet roads in Burton. |
More walking and a detour from the bible to look at the entries in another CAMRA book. The first 50 great Pub Crawls details several alternative boozers.
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| Coors, What a view |
And I am pleased to have followed its suggestion. You can tell just from the exterior that this will be pub of the day.
Coopers Tavern, Cross Street, Bass
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| Its a Gem |
There's the need to walk through a long, thin empty room to get to the bar, which appears to split in two, with the barman always on the opposite side of the partition.
More bass, but like the others, it was in perfect condition, if not a little thin headed.
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| Mainly been Bass, with the odd Burton Bridge Bitter |
If you are still with me, there's three left to do. Fortunately for me, they are all more or less next to each other.
Devonshire Arms, Station Street, Burton Bridge Bitter
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| Classic |
Homely, multi roomed pub where everything was perectly kept. The way you imagine pubs to be but rarely are.
Next up was the Last Heretic, where the photo taken was not worthy of public sharing. I stumbled on this micro pub, looking for the Roebuck, tucked away next door. As it was in the Bible, I gave it a chance. The beer is gravity fed from barrels on a racking system behind a glass partition. I waited patiently for the air lock to open and be served. My choice, Cotswold Shagweaver, was off, and a Heacham Gold was recommended as an alternative.
It looked crystal clear but was completely
sans head and was easily the poorest pint of a long and constructive day. I just don't get micros at all.
The Roebuck, Station Street, Bass
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| Last of the Evening |
Ending on a high and fortifying myself with a final Bass before the long walk back to Lenny Henry's choice of accommodation.
Lovely staff, classic pub feel.
Eagle eyed viewer will notice that I didn't take the long walk East to the Waterloo but I feel that this 8 hour, 8 pub epic - including cultural interlude - and a Nandos - means that I have been well and truly Burtonised.
