.jpg)
Pocklington is home to just under 8,500 folks, five proper pubs, a couple of bars and a micro in a side street was typically closed on the day I visited.
Although it's had many a refurb, this is an Elizabethan Posting and Market Inn. Turn left after entering and you'll find yourself in a bright hotel bar with a decent range of ales on offer. I'd be back later for the Titanic 'Plum Porter'.
Firstly though, I made my way to the town's 2023 Good Beer Guide entry - Brew York outpost, the Market Tap.
This was once a newsagents shop, before being converted into a tap for the Hop Studio Brewery in 2018. Sadly, Hop Studio have since disappeared, as have most newsagents.
It was taken over by Brew York in their first venture outside of York's city walls (they've recently expanded further with a new site in Leeds).
A simple single room housed a cross-section of Pocklington residents.
I was comfy sat in the Market Tap, reading the local CAMRA mag, with a soundtrack straight outta Brewdog, full of pop-punk and alt rock classics.
I stayed for a second stout at a more sensible strength before deciding it was time to move on.
I stood looking across the road and trying to decide between the Black Swan or Black Bull. The Bull won my custom...on what basis I'll never know.
I stayed for a second stout at a more sensible strength before deciding it was time to move on.
I stood looking across the road and trying to decide between the Black Swan or Black Bull. The Bull won my custom...on what basis I'll never know.
This was a pretty typical two-bar town boozer, with a good number of punters making for a lively early evening. The local tradesfolk propped up the bar in their workwear knocking back Moretti. Families picked from the food menu, old boys drank the cask ale, and the rowdy youth of Pocklington occupied the second room.
The choice of ales consisted of Doom Bar or Bradfield 'Farmers Blonde'. A quality pint of Farmers Blonde for me, whilst taking in the mismatched entertainment of golf on the giant TV screens accompanied by Fergie singing 'Big Girls don't Cry'.
 |
| Lager, lager, lager... |
Right, time to head to the Arts Centre.
Bob Log III hails from Tucson, Arizona, and is billed as the "one man crown prince of punk blues".
Think of a Leadbelly/Tom Waits/John Spencer Blues Explosion mash-up dressed in a human cannonball outfit. Sat at the front of the stage playing some mesmerizingly frantic slide guitar with fuzzed-up vocals through a telephone contraption wired into a helmet, this ain't your average singer-songwriter.
Bob let us in on the (quite possibly fabricated) secret that all music sounds better when accompanied by the smells of toasting bread. Producing a two-slice toaster and loaf of Happy Shopper thick white, he invited the audience to come on up and make toast. And to keep it in your back pocket when you're done, cause you'll need it later.
And then he says things are about to get weird.
Suffice to say that the inflatable duck in the picture was later filled with Bucks Fizz and the audience given the chance to come to the stage and take their turn to drink from the duck.
No thank you.
However, if you'd filled it with Theakston's Old Peculiar....
Think of a Leadbelly/Tom Waits/John Spencer Blues Explosion mash-up dressed in a human cannonball outfit. Sat at the front of the stage playing some mesmerizingly frantic slide guitar with fuzzed-up vocals through a telephone contraption wired into a helmet, this ain't your average singer-songwriter.
Bob let us in on the (quite possibly fabricated) secret that all music sounds better when accompanied by the smells of toasting bread. Producing a two-slice toaster and loaf of Happy Shopper thick white, he invited the audience to come on up and make toast. And to keep it in your back pocket when you're done, cause you'll need it later.
And then he says things are about to get weird.
Suffice to say that the inflatable duck in the picture was later filled with Bucks Fizz and the audience given the chance to come to the stage and take their turn to drink from the duck.
No thank you.
However, if you'd filled it with Theakston's Old Peculiar....
"What the hell have we just seen?" asked someone leaving the Arts Centre at the end of the show.
Yep, what indeed.
Yep, what indeed.
