Drag me to Hull

She's a sport, is my wife. I'm sure I've mentioned this before. It would have been pretty obvious to anyone marrying a massive fan of both The Beautiful South and Philip Larkin that, sooner or later, a trip to Hull would be on the cards. If I didn't write it into the wedding vows, I certainly meant to. My work trip to Manchester last week provided the opportunity, and when that wrapped up she flew in to join me and travel eastwards to Humberside.

While I waited for her flight I made my second visit to B-Lounge, just down from Piccadilly station. It's a trendy/businessy sort of place and I had been expecting to be drinking coffee as I took advantage of the complimentary wi-fi, so was delighted on my first visit to discover they had three handpumps. It was a return to old favourite Theakston's Bitter first time out, and while I watched the Manchester Airport live arrivals page, I supped upon Thwaite's Lancaster Bomber. Despite the name, I enjoyed this. It's light of body and somewhat lacking in condition but, served cool, was an excellent refresher on a muggy afternoon with its tannic flavours offering an iced tea kind of experience.

When m'lady arrived in to Manchester, food was top of the agenda and we made for Lees's Ra!n bar, as mentioned previously. Over pies and tennis I decided on a Lees Bitter for me but wasn't too keen on it. It's very malty and sweet but had just a slightly off-putting cardboard thing at the end. Mrs Beer Nut loved it, unlike the Brewer's Dark I'd recommended for her, so it was an easy swap.

And so to Hull.

Yes, it's grim. It's as grim as you've probably heard it is. The little we saw of downtown resembled the sort of British dormitory town that doesn't have to strive to be interesting -- except this is a major regional city and therefore should know better. We stayed up in Pearson Park, near Larkin's first Hull residence, the point where the city just starts to turn leafy and pleasant. After a long day, neither of us had the energy for anything other than a stroll round the park and a pint of beer in the hotel bar -- steeply-priced but quite decent Director's Bitter.

Next morning we struck northward to Grafton Street, site of The Housemartins', and later Beautiful South's, headquarters for many years. We were a bit early for a pint in the bands' local, The Grafton Hotel (spot the fanboy, left), but they do have cask ales according to the sign, which is encouraging for future reference.

Northwards again, to Newland Park, Larkin's final residence, and across the street to the university where he spent most of his working life. From there we made the long trek out to the quite pretty suburban village of Cottingham, and beyond to the small municipal cemetery where he's buried. After that, we were thirsty.

On heading back to Hull city, the first stop was The Whalebone, an ordinary little locals' pub which seems to mainly serve the surrounding industrial areas and depots. What it serves them with, however, includes several beers brewed on site. I opted for the Diana Mild and loved it: about the palest of the milds I met on the trip, it's an attractive shade of ruby with some lovely creamy chocolate flavours, almost shading towards caramel sweetness. My other half was on the Neck Oil, a clean and lightly hoppy bitter with that peachy, floral character we both love. One in the Whalebone was enough and we were getting a bit close to our train time, with another pub to visit on my list.

I had picked out The Wellington Inn simply because it was the reigning local CAMRA pub of the year. It looked nice enough when I dropped off Mrs Beer Nut there and went to collect my bag from the hotel. When I returned half an hour later she was drinking Pegasus, a very caramelly amber bitter with a sweaty sort of finish that would take a fair bit of getting used to.

Hot and tired from my walk I wasn't in the mood for random ticking (not that such things are tolerated here, see left) so on going to the bar I asked for something pale and hoppy. Two beers were proffered by the friendly barmaid. Icarus was the requisite shade of yellow but rather dull. Askrigg by the Yorkshire Dales Brewery, however, fitted my requirements perfectly. It's supremely hoppy with an uncompromising, unashamed dandelion bitterness with more than a little bit of metal about it, but it was palate-cleansing, invigorating and just what I needed.

As I sipped, I looked around and came to realise how The Wellington had earned its laurels. It's a bright, cool and airy pub on a more-or-less open plan with high ceilings and wooden floors. The decor is simple and consists almost entirely of breweriana, with a collection of pumpclips arranged by brewery in a way that makes me look like, well, someone who isn't an obsessive-compulsive maniac. As well as the six or so handpumps, there's a range of quality kegged beers from around the world and a magnificent bottled menu with most of what you'd want from the US, Belgium and Germany, including rare specials, and all displayed through the glass walls of a walk-in fridge near the bar. This lot, combined with the evident love that the management have for their beer and their bar makes The Wellington Inn one of the nicest pubs I've ever drank a pint in. Would I recommend you travel to Hull for it? Probably not, but if you make it to Humberside for any other reason it's simply unmissable.

We contemplated staying for another and getting a later train, but York was calling so, content with our lot, we got our stuff together and made the short walk to Hull station.

Rrrebadge

A couple of posts ago I reported on falling into the rebadge trap: not realising Old Wallop was Director's Bitter. My excuse is that I've only had Director's once, back in 2003 in what was then Northern Ireland's first and only branch of Wetherspoon's: a pub which stuck out, in Belfast, like a sore thumb with a sticky carpet.

I'm not entirely sure if my experience last weekend really counts. At the Bull & Castle they're currently serving Raging Bull, a strong (6% ABV), dark, red, highly-hopped ale. It is, I'm told, a rebadge of Messrs Maguire Jul-Ól, which I last tasted just over two years ago and, judging from what I wrote at the time, this is a rather different product. I'm annoyed now that I missed the version they had out last year as it might help me follow the evolution of the recipe.

Same recipe, different name, same brewer, different taste. Beer can make one's head hurt in so many ways...

Royal Borough of Kensington & Hackney

Back to London again. Not literally, but in the notes I have scribbled on the back of a map of Kensington.

It was in Kensington, at the Scarsdale Arms, that I had my first pint of the trip. Accompanied by Knut Albert and a most excellent steak and ale pie, I had a Fortyniner -- a smooth cask bitter with lovely, rounded and slightly sweet flavour notes. My guess is that the ancestors of John Smith's and similar crap keg ales tasted like this. Much later the same evening I dropped in to the Prince of Wales on the way back to my hotel. There they were serving Timothy Taylor Landlord, a beer I believe is due to arrive, bottled, in Ireland soon. It's a very bitter bitter which arrives quite harshly on the first sip. After a while it mellows a little, but doesn't come through with enough malt or fruit or the other things I like -- my opinion of it hasn't changed since last time.

Next day I was at a corporate party in a swanky Bloomsbury winebar. Amongst the canapes and vins de table was an (almost) endless supply four-pint copper jugs of Old Wallop (re-badged Director's sayeth Stonch -- see comments). We were given pewter mugs to drink it from, so I'm not 100% sure of the colour, but it appeared to be quite a bright, clear red shade. It looked to be served from a keg, and was indeed very cold, but the faintly carbonated texture was that of a beer cask conditioned: a remarkable achievement, if I'm right. Tastewise, it is a sweet and malty ale, and very easy going. Good for a session and great for free.

Finally, to my English local: Wetherspoons, landside, Heathrow Terminal 1. Normally I'd have one of the four cask ales they always have on. Nothing interested me this time round so I went for a bottle of Shepherd Neame Late Red. This "autumn hop ale" is a lovely ruby shade and, despite the name, hardly bitter and really quite malty -- anyone looking for serious hops will want their money back. On first taste there's a big sugary crystal malt explosion but it's not followed by very much at all. On the second sip the novelty wears off and the beer blogger runs out of things to write about. Next!

In between all this, there was my trip to the Pig's Ear in Hackney, as mentioned in my last post. Once I was satisfied I had clocked up enough Christmas beers (and was fed up with the pale ones) I settled down to enjoy myself properly. First up, Fox & Newt Dark Side. This is in the old ale style, which is rapidly becoming one of my favourite beer genres. The dominant flavour is mildly bitter chocolate and the whole lot slips down easily and silkily. It's a contrast with Custom Special Mild, a ruby ale which is sharp and fruity but still manages to keep a lid on any harsh or powerful flavours, just like a mild should.

Among the drinkers at my table, many complements were being paid to Twickenham Strong and Dark, and rightly so for this delicously smoky, hammy ale. The festival special everyone was talking about was a barleywine: Night on Mare St. 2. Stronger than its predecessor last year, this one is 14.2% ABV and tastes every bit. Yet, amidst the overwhelming sugary alcoholic notes, there is a tasty touch of ripe, dark fruit.

As well as the main bar, another one at the back of the hall was serving foreign beers, mainly bottled but with a handful on cask. The few bottles I had a sip from (not directly!) will be covered in the next post.

The Alan Partridge Project

Last year I reported on a visit to a dire pub in what used to be rural England but is now just off the road to somewhere else. This week I went one further and found myself in a generic low-rent business hotel in the English midlands: exactly the sort of Travel Tavern that Alan Partridge used to live in. It was, of course, a real ale desert (how did he survive so far from his beloved Director's Bitter?), with the bar taps dominated by InBev products, including Boddington's. It's a very sweet, light keg bitter: unchallenging but still quite tough drinking. I stopped at one pint.

My trip was far from a total waste, however. With some careful planning I found myself with a couple of hours to spare in central Manchester. I had picked out a handful of pubs worth visiting, but never got past the first: the gloriously appointed Marble Arch. This quirky boozer is kitted out in steel-and-ceramic Victorian bling and boasts a curiously slanting floor throughout. Out back, the house brewery produces a range of cask and bottled beers, the latter available to take away. Everyone in the house was drinking Manchester Bitter, a shockingly pale yellow lager lookalike. The resemblance ends there, however. This has a strong fresh hoppy aroma and greets the palate with a lemony bitterness which would appeal to any witbier fan. It's a wonderfully refreshing classic bitter and, I can only presume, the sort of beer that Boddington's would like to be.

The house range also includes Stouter Stout, a very sharp, bitter, but creamy stout. The abundance of hops is there right from the nose and is carried through in the strong rich bitter flavours. For a stout this is just too tart to my taste: IPA dressed as stout and off-puttingly weird, despite the care and attention that obviously went into making it. The house also makes Ginger Marble, another very yellow ale. The clue's in the title here, but in case of doubt there's a sweet, candied ginger aroma first off. This is followed by a gorgeous back-of-the-mouth raw ginger burn on the first swallow, with a legacy of ginger nut biscuits on the lips. I think this is the best ginger-flavoured beer I've ever tasted and would make a superb aperitif. And every flavoursome beer the Marble Brewery produces is 100% organic: proof that most everyone else is just doing organic wrong.

Of the guest ales, Spitting Feathers caught my attention first. This is a "smoked autumn ale", thick and creamy with little foretaste and almost reminiscent of a nasty keg ale. The smoke comes through afterwards in a vague sort of way, after some unpleasant dry mustiness. My limited experience of smoked beer has led me to expect the full-on bacon flavour experience and you don't get that with this. Two guest taps were displaying clips from Scottish craft brewing's enfant terrible Brew Dog. When I asked the barman whether I should go for Hype or Buzz, he told me he'd sold more Hype that evening, so that's what I ordered. Again, this is a very pale affair but it more than makes up for it in texture and flavour. It's warm and hits the palate with a hefty bitterness. A heavy and filling beer, all-in-all, despite having a mere 4.1% ABV.

With a heavy heart I left the pub and headed to the airport. A little previous research allowed me to stave off the return to keg ale for a few more precious minutes. The online menu of terrifyingly cheery family restaurant Giraffe included, among the Corona and Tiger, Brooklyn Lager. This is an impressively amber beer with a hoppy aroma, smelling for all the world like the lighter sort of American IPA. On first sip there's a full body and a strong malty flavour, carrying through to a dry bitter bite at the very end. Brooklyn is a thinking man's lager, and not just because the brewmaster is now a published philosopher.

A delay to my flight meant the time eventually came to bite the bullet and approach the main bar, where Worthington's Bitter was the house ale. Unlike the Boddington's, this is properly amber coloured. It has a striking burnt corn flavour, liked singed tortilla chips. Flavoursome, but not really in the right way.

I feel Manchester definitely warrants further barstool-based research. It'd just be a question of tearing myself away from the Marble Arch.