Pub 123, Day 47 – The Old House

By Rob

After leaving The Princess Royal, we grabbed some food on our way down to Commonside. Sadly, there was nowhere to sit inside the Chinese takeaway we'd selected. Thankfully, Andy had the novel ideal of sitting on the benches outside The Springvale (a pub we had previously visited), and washing the chow mein down with some cold, crisp lager.  

This we did, all the while trying to coax Niamh away from her friends via WhatsApp with promises of prawn crackers, spring rolls, and a little bit of Carling. Our efforts appeared fruitless and so, after finishing the food, we found ourselves joining her and her friends in The Hallamshire House.

It appeared that, rather than visiting somewhere new, we were delivering up a rehash of 2015’s greatest hits. So far, you’re probably wondering at what point we arrive at The Old House. Well, bear with me, for there are stranger things yet to come.

Once inside the Hallamshire, we set to work convincing Niamh to ditch her friends and come with us. Eventually we were successful – Pubquest was always more memorable, we promised, than going back to your friend’s house, drinking white wine, and watching repeats of Love Island.

And so, we wandered down into town, looking for anywhere we hadn’t yet ticked off. We came across Harrison’s Bar and, despite our grave doubts about its pubness/pubability/publikeness, we behaved according to the better-safe-than-sorry rule and decided to try it.

We were immediately greeted by a sign on the door: Sorry, private Christmas party.

A huge amount of noise was being made inside – the place sounded absolutely packed. We all exchanged a glance. “Surely,” Andy said, “they wouldn’t notice three extra people in the crowd”.

I agreed. There was no one on the door, and they wouldn't be able to spot three imposters in the midst of so many people. Besides, we weren’t planning on hanging around very long. In, drink, out – that was the plan. We pushed open the door and stepped inside.

For some unknown reason, the whole bar was filled with little people (by which I mean people with dwarfism): more of them in one place than I had ever personally encountered in my entire life. It had the air of a work’s Christmas do and, on account of it being pantomime season and the time of year for Santa’s Grottos, we naturally had our suspicions regarding the particular nature of the institution to which these partygoers were associated with.

Our first assumption from the outside, that the place was packed, was correct. What we hadn’t counted on, however, was that we would be several feet taller than almost every other customer in the venue. As such, the bar staff spotted us immediately, headed over, and politely but firmly emphasised the private element of the event. We were left with no choice but to leave and find somewhere else.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how we ended up in The Old House.

A reasonably smart venue, it was no doubt closer to a cocktail bar than a pub, but we were guided by the same rule that had led us to Harrison’s. Inside, it was swanky, loud, and offered a large array of wines and expensive sugary concoctions. Niamh helped herself to something that looked exotic and eye-wateringly pricey, while Andy and I each ordered a pint of Empire IPA – a pretty potent ale (clocking in at 5.2%), it lacked the hoppy punch I’d expect from a beer of such strength.

We sat there and reflected on our interesting attempt to get into Harrison’s. The night had certainly proved more memorable than any episode of Love Island...

Pub: The Old House (113-117 Devonshire Street, S3 7SB)

Rating: 7.5/10

Pint: Empire IPA

Brewery: Spitting Feathers (Waverton, Cheshire)

NEXT UP: Onwards to Chapeltown, at The Wagon & Horses...