So on, the no more than 20 yards to the ever welcoming Three Cranes.  A good selection of cask beers, 60s classics on the not too loud musak system, and comfortable seating.  It’s a little local in the middle of the city.  I like it enormously, brightly lit though it be.

Pivni, on Patrick Pool, has an interesting selection of beers from home and away, including a rather nice German wheat beer(always a favourite of mine) and something extraordinary from Throgmorton Hall (or similar) at 8% proof.  One of our number bought a half, which we then shared amongst 5 of us.  Verdicts were variously that this the concentrate from which Guinness is made, to observations of strong notes of liquorice and tobacco.

After that we fought our way out through a student invasion to the relative calm and almost spit and sawdust character of the Last Drop, for a welcome and cleansing glass of York Brewery’s Guzzler.  200 yards would have covered the whole itinerary.

Bypassing the delights of Micklegate, and squeezing through Barker Lane and the snicket leading to the front of the former NE railway offices, we arrived at the station where the York Tap had a vast selection of beers, including a rather nice Keighley Brewery light beer.  Wonderful as the restoration of the old refreshment rooms is, complete with leaded glass and terrazzo floor, when it’s full the hard surfaces make a far from pleasant harsh cacophony out of many conversations.

Back across Holgate Bridge to the rumble of an arriving train from the South and the whine of a 66 on a freight waiting for the road from the freight lines.  Some wag had amended the Crystal Palace’s A board to advertise a “poo” night but there was no evidence of that, at least in the saloon (apart from low stools) and the Sam Smiths bitter was well kept, and, as usual, absurdly cheap.  I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that anywhere called the Crystal Palace is quite brightly lit inside — but not glaringly so, probably the poo players in the other bar appreciated it.

The Bay Horse was having a quiz night, of which we missed the start, but we supplied one team with the answer “molybdenum” then left before the answers were revealed, in case it was wrong.  The Black Sheep was popular, and I tried something from a Cornish Brewery, which was OK but broke my resolution of drinking only Yorkshire beer.

Having drunk as far as Cornwall, ordering the Paulaner Weissbier at the Brigantes felt less sinful than it might, and it was delicious.  Unfortunately the Taylor’s Landlord appeared to be “off”  which dampened the enjoyment of some of us.  Encouragingly, the pub was very full, which it deserves to be considering the range of beers, the good layout, and the food menu earlier on.  Let’s hope the Landlord was an aberration.

Neither of the preceding pubs was full to bursting, but we had to hunt for a seat at the Golden Slipper, where various rooms held folk playing dominoes, darts and draughts.  Good to see a city centre pub seemingly thriving with traditional customers playing traditional games.  No-one seemed to be watching the footy — though perhaps you wouldn’t find much interest in Spurs or an Irish team within the city walls of York.  The Deuchars was OK, but I’ve had it kept better.  And the Old White Swan was a revelation.  It used to be very much a lads pub, but it had a brilliant if geriatric jazz band, an appreciative, if geriatric audience, and both Jennings and Jaipur beers, inter alia.

Back into town to the Tam O’Shanter — extremely local clientele and some very loud drunken Karaoke — though redeemed by the choice of Deuchars or Jennings Cumberland bitter.   A short scamper brought us to the Waggon and Horses just as their Quiz Night was ending (hurrah !) where we were surprised by the large variety of real ales available, presumably in competition with the Rook and Gaskill opposite.  A half of Rooster polished off the evening, alongside an animated discussion on the merits of The Lamb (see previous post) and much consideration of where to go if you have 45 minutes before your train at Kings Cross.

But on, to the House of Hidden Madness (or similar). What a gem ! Rather full of young persons, but not of the Lowther haunting type, and a fine selection of Belgian beers on tap. The true glory, though, is the bar-room itself, open to the roof beams in what appears to be a huge medieval room.  Must go back in the daytime and sample the food and study the architecture.     The Red Lion was a bit short of ales, but there was something acceptable but we needed to finish at the Phoenix with its usual fine choice, Copper Dragon for me, though the place is so popular there wasn’t room in the really nice front bar and we ended in the slightly more spartan back room.  Early 20th century French soft porn in the gents, by the way.

Streets of Doncaster deserted — all rather sinister.

The Feathers Hotel was much more like it — a wide selection of beers, Caledonian Over the Bar was excellent.  At the next, almost deserted pub, just round the corner, they had Copper Dragon, from Skipton, and then at the last, which seemed a bit like someone’s rather untidy house, some Courage Directors went down very well.

We had our bus back to York to ourselves — it runs to bring revellers back to Pock after a night out, rather than the reverse, but it gave us time to contemplate the summer season of pedal-powered excursions — of which more, no doubt, anon.