BadPoo | an assortment of words about beer

Mar/10

27

Kirkby Lonsdale

I recently spent the weekend in Kirkby Lonsdale and quickly became aware of the many reasons that house prices there are as high as they are. Firstly, it’s an undoubtedly lovely looking place- all narrow lanes and old stone buildings. It’s also handily situated just few miles from the M6 and contains one of the world’s great cheese shops, a similarly magnificent butchers and even an old-school sweet shop. But, and this is the most important factor of all, it’s got brilliant pubs. Lots and lots of brilliant pubs.

Oddly, despite this plethora of magnificent ale houses, there’s no official Kirkby Lonsdale ale trail as far as I can work out, possibly owing to the fact that the 7 town centre establishments detailed later are all within about a 3 minute walk of each other.  Truly, this is heaven.

Before we get to the Kirkby Lonsdale pubs though, my recent drinking excursion around the area began with a few places in the surrounding districts. First up was The Marton Arms Hotel in Ingelton which came extremely close to becoming the first, last and only pub of the day. It had 7 beers on at the time- plus Old Rosie Scrumpy, a personal favourite- as well as a lovely spacious bar area with low, snug, beamed ceilings. So far, so nice. But it also had whiskeys. Many whiskeys. 290 whiskeys (their ultimate aim is to have one for every day of the year- at which point I’ll take up assassination or male prostitution in order to have enough money to stay in the Marton Arms’ accomodation for 365 nights). Temptation was, as ever, difficult to resist and the call to move on to the next pub was only heeded as it was still just 12.30pm and a little bit early in the day to embark on a full-blown single malt session.

The Marton Arms- where I might go to die if ever I have to pick somewhere

Next up, slap bang in the middle of not very much, is the Old Hill Inn which claims to be in Chapel-le-Dale but is actually on the B6255 surrounded by lots of craggy hills. Just after White Scar Caves. In the cosy pub itself there’s the definite feel that it should be snowing outside with no chance of a let up in the next week to really get the best feel out of the place with it’s dark wood and roaring fires. We, meanwhile, have to make do with mild drizzle. 4 real ales were on at the time and Aviator from the nearby Dent brewery was the chosen tipple. Very nice and malty it was too and certainly helped clear the mind of the recent anti-Dent propaganda heard the previous night in Kirkby Lonsdale Rugby Club (basis of propaganda- everyone from Dent is gay because Dent rhymes with ‘bent’. This is what passes for humour in rugby clubs.)

The Old Hill Inn- exactly how old the hill is was never made clear

To the village of Barbon next for the simply-monikered Barbon Inn. As nice as this place is, and as revelatory as it is to discover that Tetley Green Shoots is the first known example of an interesting pint from that blandest of brewers, it’s clearly one of those establishments that makes it’s money on the food and so more than three quarters of the building on this quiet Saturday mid-afternoon, is dedicated to empty tables while the band of drinkers are crammed into a small bar area. There’s plenty of places that do this when it couldn’t possibly be too much of a hassle to make a place a little more accomodating for drinkers away from meal time. Then we wouldn’t feel resented on suspicion of being too poor to stump up for a risotto.

Following on from this, we headed to the Pheasant Inn in Casterton for which I made absolutely no notes so it’s fair to say it was probably a bit dull, as was the beer.

And now, to business. After ferrying the group around pubs on B-roads all day our chauffer, my missus, decides she’d like to get rid of the car and get stuck into the Bacardi. So it’s back to Kirkby Lonsdale and time for another tour of one of the finest drinking towns in the country. First up is Plato’s, which is admittedly a slightly poncey bar/restaurant but it usually has 2-3 real ales on and the food is so good it’s been known to make grown men cry.  A burger from there was recently measured in height at 14cm bottom to top.

Next it’s The King’s Arms which usually has one of the local football teams in demolishing chip butties while gazing at the big screen; with this in mind, it was the obvious place to check in with Jeff Stelling and co to watch the results come in. The ale selection here is never that great so, if you’re on an ale tour, you can easily drop this place and not miss much- though the atmosphere is always a little livelier than elsewhere in town if you fancy waking yourself up or meeting the locals (the anti-Dent propaganda here is particularly spicy).

To the Orange Tree next, via the churchyard from which you can also look upon the stonking Ruskin’s View, for a revitalising pint of Old Rosie and a little bit of Six Nations. The beer choice here is constantly changing- as often as between trips to the bar on an exciting day- though there’s always a slightly musty odour in the place. Sorry people of the Orange Tree if you’re reading this, but get a Glade Plug-In or two and you’ve got the best pub in town.

Avanti now- the second slightly poncey bar/restaurant of the day but, much like Plato’s, also a purveyor of fine real ales. The handy hint I have to give you for this place is to be in at around 5 or 6pm when, if you’re lucky, a bloke who I suspect is the landlord wanders round giving utterly gorgeous mini-steak pies or slices of garlic bread around to the customers absolutley free of charge. Consequently, this can be the only pub in Kirkby Lonsdale with anyone in it for much of the early evening- any landlords out there looking for a way to increase custom, take note.

Kirkby Lonsdale- You can't see them, but purely in the space contained within this photo are 6 superb pubs

Three pubs still to visit on this packed day and they are The Snooty Fox, the Red Dragon and the Sun Inn. It says much about Kirkby Lonsdale that these three establishments all sort of blend into the background. That’s not to say they’re bland or rubbish- they’re anything but. They are all the sort of pubs that the drinkers of most towns or villages would kill to have on their doorsteps and yet, here, they’re just part of the de rigeur trend for brilliant hostelries. That said, the Sun Inn gets a special mention for carrying Thwaites.

And so, after 14 pints and 11 pubs, it’s time to retire to the B&B for Match of the Day and a well earned sleep. If you ever do this, by the way, make sure on Sunday morning you head to the Lunesdale Bakery Tea Room where the ultimate hangover-busting breakfast can be bought, though the vegetarian options are limited. While myself and her parents got stuck into out full-Englishes the missus was grumpily munching through a meagre toasted teacake. Following on from this, all that was left to do was go and pick up the half a butchered lamb we’d won in an auction at the Rugby Club on Friday night (long story) and head back down the M6 to a land where there isn’t a great pub on every corner i.e. the rest of the world.

Crap, isn’t it?

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