PIRELLI STADIUM
LOCAL CAMRA
Buses 1 and 5
Mick has written on the day:-
Remembrance
Day, and a fine sunny one in Staffordshire. The journey was a trifle
cumbersome, as we were staying with my friend Tim in Lichfield. No
problem from there by car - Burton-upon-Trent is straight up the A38 -
but we chose Cross Country Trains in view of the forthcoming ingestion
(there were seven pubs on the Stedders' list). From Birmingham or
Nottingham it's no problem, a fast and direct service. At worst we would
have two changes: Lichfield City / Lichfield Trent Valley / Tamworth.
In fact a taxi removed the initial hurdle and we enjoyed the strange
right angular arrangement of the railway lines while waiting at both
Trent Valley and Tamworth, emerging promptly at 11.38 at Burton.
The trek began, with the Devonshire on the town centre side of the
station. Kevin and Tracey were the gaffers, of local origin, with
another Kevin involved in such phenomena as the Devvy Donkeys (aka tips
for Southwell Races), not to omit the splendidly garrulous Tracey behind
the bar, who served us with Burton Bridge brew Golden Delicious, a lot
more tasty than the eponymous apples. The Devonshire's policy is not to
sell food in the evenings but furnish the punters with free, cold so as
not to offend the nostrils, snacks. Barmaid Tracey even gave us a pub
tip in North Devon. Stedders did his customary cigar check of the garden
and off we sauntered just round the corner to espy a sign directing us
down a back brick alley to the Coopers Arms. Barrels abounded in the bar
and you're welcome to bring in your own food. A bunch of chaps were in
the front room with pork pies accompanying their pints. It was then that
our companions for the rest of the day joined us. Both are keen Brewers
supporters, Colston the Derby Telegraph sports editor and Dave
omniscient on many fronts, certainly helping with the day's route, also
providing much relevant information. The other benefit was that Colston
had brought his car, thus reducing the amount of legwork. The Coopers
was good, and we enjoyed some (local) Castle Rock. Innkeepers were
listed on a wooden board in the manner of vicars in a church. They
started with 'Wallace' in 1823 right through to Mary Bagley, incumbent
since 2006. Parking isn't easy - the station and Sainsbury's were
recommended but this pub would be a treat especially if combined with
the neighbouring Devonshire.
Next was the Bridge, as
in 'Burton Bridge', different again, spacious, bright and friendly and
at a distance from the others, with friendly barman Carl serving from
the central bar - this is one of several changes in the layout over the
years. An ancient retainer bullied us into buying raffle tickets as we
were completing our pints. When asked 'When's it happening?' she
retorted 'Now'. A Staffordshire measure of time we surmised, but it did
take place before our egress. Number 318 was called. It was raised aloft
with a cheer by Colston. He would be enjoying that bottle of red wine,
but perhaps not later the same day after the impressive gallonage to be
consumed.
So we continued up the eastern route towards
the football place, more tortuous by car than on foot, especially with
the diversion for Stedders to use Yorkshire Bank for some purple notes.
The Great Northern was closest to the stadium, out of sight over the
ring road, but closed. We retraced a bit of ground back to the Wetmore
Whistle, in something of a desert, in fact Wetmore was an area of
industry and terraced housing. In its present form is a modern
establishment run by landlord Ben partly as café, and offering
intriguing food. I opted for the Eggy Crumpets only to be disappointed -
I was looking at the 'Brekkie' menu. Stedders and I stopped the gap
with sausage baps. It was now after 2pm. Mine was washed down by
Marston's Pedigree, which did seem to taste better within spitting
distance of its brewery than the stuff I ceased to drink some time ago
in other parts of the country.
And then to two
long-awaited edifices: the Pirelli Stadium and the Derby Inn. This
involved crossing the great divide onto the route south from the
stadium, ultimately to the station. I look forward to a chance to enjoy
the Pirelli from within, and together with that would certainly be the
Derby, really the home, i.e. castle of guv'nor Tony, who was most
hospitable in acquiescing in Colston's telephoned request to stay open
until mid-afternoon. It was well after 3pm when we arrived. In these
parts afternoon opening is a rarity. We were lucky to have an unbroken
crawl all day. As Dave said the Derby is a 'step back in time'. It's all
'Derby' here - the pub, the road and the Rams scarf proudly displayed
behind the bar. May it have continue as pub as well as private house -
it's a treasure and it's Marston's. I hope it's still going for my next
visit.
And further back into town
there awaited the Alfred, run by Jennifer and Phil. A good thing: it has
a separate family room. We stayed here for two, so good was it, rather
than move on somewhere else before the 1830 train. And, arriving at
Tamworth with a pint's worth of time before the final leg, we dropped
into the Albert round the corner for a quick one. And that could be done
on the way to Burton Albion.
Recommendations? The range of pubs was very wide and covered a
substantial area, though Burton is not a big town. The Derby is
essential as it may not be with us as its days may be numbered, and it
is close to the ground. For variety go for the Bridge and the Coopers.
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