Saturday the 24th
of August was a special day in Brighouse. It was the birthday of one of the old gits (not me) and a special celebration was
being held at The Old Ship in the town.
A special
beer to mark the event was donated by John Eastwood the Brewer, who was present alongside head brewer Keith Taggart and his
bodyguard Robin.
Lots of people attended and had
a great time and I personally wish to thank the landlord mark for looking after all the beers and serving them impeccably,
to his lovely wife for providing food and to barmaid Emma for the exotic entertainment.
Incidentally
The Old Ship has just won Calderdale C.A.M.R.A’s award for pub of the season which is richly deserved.
We found
ourselves in Halifax recently at the Bull situated at the top of George Street. This is now called Brasserie at the Bull and
is now a modern eating and drinking establishment which has beer on the hand pumps.
With
the dining area upstairs, the downstairs is laid out with tables and seating, soft lighting and an eclectic choice of background
music.
One of
my proudest childhood memories is when my Granny won the title of Bradford’s Wet Shawl of the Year. Another memory is
sitting outside on a frosty night and in awe I watched the waxing Moon ride across the zenith of the heavens like an ambered
chariot rushing toward the ebon void of infinite space, wherein the tethered belts of Jupiter and Venus hang forever festooned
in their Orbital majesty. And I thought, “I must get my dad to put a roof on this lavatory.”
My dad
wasn’t mean, but one Christmas he gave me an empty cardboard box. Seeing my puzzlement, he told me it was an action
man. “But where is he?” I asked. “Well, that’s it, you see he’s a deserter.” Replied dad.
Recently,
six of us flew from Leeds Bradford Airport to Amsterdam for some beer swilling and some camaraderie with the Dutch people,
who are a very friendly bunch.
Amsterdam
is a city of canals, culture and crumpet. A city that boasts of it’s tolerance to the smoking of soft drugs in designated
coffee houses and in the street, even though it is illegal from July 1st
this year to smoke Tobacco in public buildings.
When
in Amsterdam, everyone should visit the red light district, just a few minutes walk from central station. Here, nubile young
ladies stand or sit in lighted windows and their services can be acquired for a reasonable fee, around 50 Euros per quarter
of an hour, though I would have thought, with the money they earn, they could afford clothes.
I myself
was approached whilst getting some fresh air outside a bar. “Do you want to do business?” I was asked. “Sorry
love,” I replied. “I’ve only got five Euros.” “That’s O.K,” she said, “I have
some change.”
Anyhow,
on our return to England, two of our party whom I won’t name (Geoff and Sheana) missed the flight but happily arrived
back next day.
Here’s
a thought, how did we measure hailstones before gold balls here invented?
P.S:
have just heard: The Richard Ostler (Wetherspoons) in Brighouse, will be featured in the 2009 Good Beer Guide.
