No Not Ivor
Allchurch.
The PRATS are
back on the road. Pharp has returned from his fishing trip somewhere north of
Scotland, either the Orkneys or the Shetlands. I suspect we’ll get the full
unabridged story, Pharp is not known for his brevity, even his farts go on for
ages, they even change note halfway through, several times.
Today we are off
to a new ground, Alvechurch, the Lye Meadow, but not new pubs, we’ve supped
many an ale around these parts over the years. It was around 10:15am when Parker
and the PRATS mobile arrived at Chez Fuggles. It was a lovely day, full
sunshine although the slightest nip in the wind, it was woolly jumper attire
today. Citra was already in the back seat thumbing his Iphone8. The obligatory “how
are you doing my old ducks” ensued before we fell silent, punctuated by the occasional
‘bing’ from Citra’s phone. We were en route to the house of Pharp in god’s
chosen cesspit; Rushden. Pharp lives there because his anal emissions blend in
with the local ambience.
Pharp insisted
we go via the A45 instead of the A14, he goes that way 3 days a week. It seemed
strange going south when we were supposed to be going west. Nobody told Pharp
it was 8 miles further. Nevertheless, it turned out to be an inspired decision as
the A14 was at a standstill, it could have cost us 2 pints drinking time. We needn’t
have worried about Pharp going on endlessly about his fishing trip, it was
worse. Pharp is going for a PL. Now I know I’ve already said Pharp doesn’t do
brevity, but he does do acronym’s and all that stuff then proceeds to explain
to us what the acronym is, PL = Personal Licence. Pharp does legal stuff, it’s his
job, so as you can imagine the detail, detail after detail after detail. Citra
was comatose sitting in the back seat next to Pharp, even the perpetual ‘bings’
from his phone didn’t snap him out of his state of comatosity, Is that a word? Who
knows what an EMRO is? Was one question. For those interested it’s stands for ‘Early
Morning Restriction Order’, we then spent the next 40 miles debating when is
morning, day or effing night. Thankfully, we were about to arrive at Alvechurch
marina and the wonderful Weighbridge Inn. It took about 5 minutes to wake Citra
up. He had those spiralling circles in his eyes, you see them in Tom and Jerry
cartoons when Tom has had the frying pan whacked on his head. His bottom jaw
was all floppy, dangling on his chest, just a hint of slather fobbing in the
corner of his gaping mouth. The words ‘Blue Monkey BG Sips’ hollered in his
general direction did the trick. He was out the car and into the bar quicker
than the entire underpants department can run out of M&S when they see
Pharp enter the store.
The Weighbridge
is a real pub, http://www.the-weighbridge.co.uk/
compact with 4 square rooms, one of them is the kitchen. It has a bar area, a
sort of lounge for diners and another snug type bar with a serving hatch. The
walls are covered with all sorts of breweriana and canal barge memorabilia.
There is a sort of smoking tent cum loggia outside, with the toilets further
down the alley. There is a beer garden to the side. The Weighbridge is beside
the Worcester – Birmingham canal with a vast marina full of colourful barges.
The pub has 7 handpumps, always ales available from Kinver and Weatheroak
breweries. Pharp kicked off with Kinver Bargee a regular ale here, quite pale
for Pharp, he prefers a more chestnut type ale. Bargee comes in at 4.0% abv, late
hoppyness with a dry finish, very refreshing. Citra and Fuggles went for BG
Sips whilst Parker had a coffee. BG Sips is a lovely pale ale, very refreshing
ale and easy drinking at 4.0% abv, always popular at beer festivals and very
often the first one to be sold out. Winner of numerous Gold awards. Pharp and
Citra went for some solids, it was inevitable they’d go for the Black Country
faggots, thankfully they didn’t come with mushy peas, otherwise Pharp would be
walking home.
Bloody hell,
guess who has just walked into the pub with his entourage? Only JC, no not him,
Jeremy Corbyn, Jezzer or Jerry to his mates. He had what looked like the local
Labour head honcho with him. A little round chap with a snug fitting suit he
bought yesterday, with a permanent Cheshire cat grin across his physog. Another
bloke looked like he was looking for a baby to kiss, he must be an MP, he
looked like a ponce, smiling at everybody, sincerity personified. You could hear
the locals almost silent utterings, under their breathes, “ferck off you ponce”
drifting around the small bar. We thought about inviting Jezzer to become a
member of the PRATS, but after due consideration we determined that he was over
qualified. One of the locals piped up, “can you sort the water shortage problem
JC”. His spokesperson replied, if anyone can, Jerry can. A silent snigger tittered
around the small bar.
In strode the
food waitress person, she hollered “two faggots, chips and peas”. Fuggles chirped
up “I’m chips, he’s peas” pointing to Parker “and these two are the faggots”. The
bar echoed with a chortle all round. Joking apart the faggots looked lovely, as
Dick Emery’s Mandy would put it, “ooh you are offal, but I like you!”.
It wasn’t long
before more Poppies supporters started to drift in, The Weebles included
Marshall, Petit Chemise, Wort and Betweenthesticks. Marshall was wetting himself
about Jezzer in the lounge, so excited he shook his hand when JC left the pub.
Marshall said he wouldn’t wash it his hand for two weeks. We suggested he
wouldn’t need to use any toilet paper for two weeks either.
Time for more
beer, Fuggles and Citra went for Weatheroak Keystone Hops, coming in at 5.0%
abv it’s a bit early for the strong stuff. A lovely pale ale and quite hoppy,
Fuggles used to drink this at the Coach and Horses at Weatheroak Hill where it
was once brewed. A bit of a tiff, split the brewery from the pub with the
brewery now down in Studley, we’ll be in there when we go to Redditch.
The Ellis’s,
then the Mitchells, plus a few more Poppies traveling band arrived, the pub was
getting busy now with around 18 supporters in and around the pub. Another round
of ales, this time is was Green Duck breweries Sitting Duck pale ale brewed
with Amarillo hops. Very citrussy although more orange peel than grapefruit. A
delicious, moreish, refreshing pint. We could have sat all afternoon thrashing
this one down but the footy beckoned.
We finally arrived
at Lea Meadow, nestled amongst the rolling verdant vista, on the edge of the
Lickey hills. A lovely setting, but this pitch has to be one of the steepest
slopes, I half expected to see some kid pushing a bike up the hill flogging
Hovis bread accompanied by a brass band. The slope measures a 2.8 metre drop
from one corner diagonally to the other, in fact it’s a 2metres from the top
corner to the centre spot. (Ref: Ordnance Survey website). Nevertheless, the pitch is in good condition,
lots of grass all over and appears quite lush. The clubhouse bar serves fizzy
wazz in most flavours.
The match.
Well, it took
just 2 minutes for the ‘Church’ to fall into the almost weekly trap, their defender
sent Rhys Hoenes sprawling arse over tit, the man in black pointed to the spot,
one up. The new boy and the returning from suspension lad looked a tad match
unfit. It wasn’t long before the almost weekly defensive ‘balls up’ led to an
equaliser, one each. An unmarked Towers nodded in on half-time, two – one up.
The whistle invited the swirling and wielding of handbags, with a couple of
names going into the ref’s book. We pretty much dominated the second half. An
almighty ‘Church’ balls up saw Rhys Hoenes tap into an empty net, Three – one final
score. Three more points in the bag.
Time for more
ale, just a very short 10minute journey to the aforementioned Coach and Horses
at Weatheroak Hill, marvellous.
A big pub with
loads of rooms, the top end near the car park is mostly restaurant, the middle
is the lounge and snug, the bottom end of the building is the bar area. A large,
very busy beer garden and a nice little brewery shed, home of Weatheroak Hill
brewery. https://www.coachandhorsesinn.co.uk/real-ale
A great pub
with up to 10 ales to chose from, usually 4 of their own, Icknield Pale ale, a
lovely light, hoppy refreshing ale, 3.8% abv. Gold, a light 3.5% hoppy session
ale, Copton Common a robust 4.9%, based on a Vienna German lager recipe, and
finally Impossible Pale Ale, 4,2% brewed with New Zealand hops so you can
expect loads of grapefruit. Regular ales include Holdens Golden Glow, Hobson’s
Best, Hook Norton’s Old Hooky and Proper Job from St Austell. Two other guest
ales also available, including Green Pear from the Malvern Hills brewery.
Fuggles and
Citra kicked off with Icknield Pale Ale, very nice, easy quaffing, a good session
ale. Pharp went for Old Hooky, a typical ale for their palate,
although 4.6% puts it in the premium ale category. Rich and fruity, reddish
tawny colour and malty. Parker settled for Hobson's Best, a 3.8% typical English ale.
The bar was
filling up, a group of cyclists arrived. Usual shape, scrawny legs, pot belly
wearing very tight clothes. It’s that padding at the back of their pants between
the buttock cleft that always makes me wonder if they’ve taken a dump whilst in
the saddle.
A small group
arrives at the next table, the bloke goes to the bar, the wife goes to the toilet
whilst Granny tries to sit down. Whoops, she missed the seat completely, in
fact there wasn’t one there. She crashed to the floor with a thump. Parker was
up like Spiderman to help her back to her feet and get her seated. Granny bent
down to pick something up from the floor, Parker shouted “mind your head”. Bang
another clout on the back of the head. She looked remarkably unscathed and
joked away as if nothing had happened. The bloke arrived from the bar, wife
arrived from the toilet oblivious to all the excitement Granny had gone through.
Really exciting times down at the Coach.
Another round
of ales, this time it’s Impossible for Fuggles, whilst Citra stayed on Icknield
and Pharp stayed on Old Hooky. As expected the New Zealand hops bring out loads
of citrus grapefruit. Fuggles always enjoys hops from the land of kiwis. Very
refreshing.
Nearly time for
home, but not before Fuggles thrashes down a Proper Job and Citra goes for the Malvern
Hills brewery Green Pear. This is Black Pear with green hops so it is a
seasonal ale, very hoppy with loads of aroma, 4.4% abv golden ale. Sounds nice.
Time for home,
a good day out, decent pubs, decent ales, 3 points, sorted.
