Bent n Bongs Beer Bash

A beer festival? In Wigan? With rave reviews and recommendations? Well I wasn’t going to miss that! The late kick off (doors 6pm) on a Thursday was less of a deterrent and more of an excuse (as if I need one) to spend the afternoon exploring the lovely pubs of Wigan.

And yet…I am back on SlimmingWorld now and, after the disaster of Preston the other week, I knew I needed a solid plan to not get too pissed stay on track with my weight loss. This is said plan.

I began the day by having a couple of boiled eggs for breakfast. I also packed an Alpen Light bar to have with my brew at the station. I was determined today was going to be a good SlimmingWorld day.

And then, as I sipped my Earl Grey (black, bag removed) and caught up on my correspondence on the concourse at Blackpool North, Kerry turned up with a lemon drizzle flapjack for me. I scanned it for syns and it was 9.5 (I’m allowed up to 15 a day – and bear in mind I’m on my way to a beer festival here). I pocketed it to give to Lee when I got home. I’m not one for wasting syns on food when there’s beer to be drunk.

Southbound

It’s a short 44 minute hop to Wigan on the train and Kerry and I put that time to constructive use, studying the beer list for tonight’s fest and deciding on a plan of action, selecting specific beers to sample as well as sections to avoid for safety reasons (e.g. bottles and cans).

We landed at Wigan North Western at 1148, with the first pub (just across the road) not due to open until noon. Now my usual practice here is to loiter on the station. I noticed that the controversial water fountain from my last visit was no longer there. Had the water been toxic after all?! I had no chance to conduct an investigation, as Kerry decided we were going to wait outside where she could have a smoke. Bizarrely, it was warmer outside the station than in.

Swan & Railway, Wigan

Kerry soon decided we were going to wait directly outside the pub in the hope that they’d open up early and let us in. They didn’t but, while we loitered with intent, I enjoyed the content of this poster. ‘A train enthusiast’s paradise’ indeed.

At noon we immediately entered and headed straight round to survey the pump clips.

Dear reader, the Swan & Railway NEVER disappoints and ALWAYS delivers absolutely lush beer. You might have noticed that I sample quite a lot of beer and can definitively state that this is one of the very best pubs in one of the very best pub towns. I could have stayed here drinking this all day.

I love going into a pub when it has just opened, having it all to myself. I took advantage and went for a wander, venturing into some corners of the pub I hadn’t explored before.

Our hostess soon arrived and recognised me even without Sarah, Rupert and Paddington.

‘Ooh – you’re going to Bent n Bongs, aren’t you?’

I explained that Sarah would be along soon and that she was staying over here tonight. And then, as if by magic, Sarah arrived – complete with inflammatory tote bag.

Sarah is from Whitby but devoted readers will be aware that I fucking hate the place because of the #cuntgate episode on my birthday trip there in 2021. She is, however, determined to get me there – and to like it – but, well, there are other places on my list to visit ahead of Whitby (I’d even go to Rotherham first).

Anyway, you’ll see from the above pic that Sarah is checking in here because there are rooms upstairs. As our hostess handed over her receipt, she snatched it straight back, explaining: ‘I’ll write all your shit on it’ – by which I THINK she meant her room number and such like.

As with our last visit here, the conversation turned to the pigeons that invade the rooms if the windows aren’t kept shut (there are signs warning guests of this).

‘One woman come running down – it were on her pillow. There were shit everywhere.’

I’m telling you now, you don’t get this with Premier Inn. Give me a night at an indy with personality any day of the week. You get far better stories out of them. The most drama we’ve had at a Premier Inn was The Great Cutlery Shortage of 2022 in Peterborough.

Sarah and Kerry hadn’t met before but they were soon nattering away, finding plenty in common, including a love of Spain. They discussed their respective excitement at finding a place called Ale Hop out there, expecting beer, before realising it was a shop with a plastic cow.

A song was playing in the pub that I hadn’t heard for yonks and I had to Shazam it. I would never have guessed the artist in a million years.

Whilst I could happily have stayed here all day drinking lush beer in this wonderfully quirky pub in which I always feel so at home, we were already running behind schedule, so off we headed on our first long walk of the day.

Wallgate Chippy smelled fucking AMAZING on our way past. It is so hard to resist this place but today I had my SlimmingWorld hat on – and also wanted to explore some other places for you, dear reader. I will be back in Wigan twice more before March is out so there’s plenty of opportunity for chippy action. It was also for both of these reasons that we were heading up to Standish today. I don’t think I’d visited the Extreme North of Wigan since I was living in Birmingham and took my posh friend Dan. What with all the top boozers in the town centre and Swinley – and the Hotpots playing in Hindley these days – poor old Standish hasn’t had a look in. It wasn’t raining today (rare for Wigan) and I wanted to break up the pubs with lots of walking (again learning my lessons from Preston) so today seemed the perfect day to visit.

Our walk took us up through Mesnes Park, which none of us remembered visiting before, despite being frequent visitors to Wigan.

Now it was round about here that Sarah realised that she’d not got her phone with her. She’d gone to reach for it to take a photo of something I probably shouldn’t put in print. Anyway we rang the Swan & Railway on my phone and they’d found Sarah’s phone (and glasses, which she hadn’t even missed) on the counter where we’d been sitting and now had them safely stowed behind the bar. Phew! We’d be heading back that way later anyway so would call in then.

Boar’s Head, Standish

We were here at the Rat’s Boar’s Head today because (a) the menu looked awesome, with lots of SlimmingWorld friendly choices and (b) because this pub was in the 1975 Good Beer Guide.

You may recall from our last visit to Wigan that Sarah’s friend Philippa happened across a copy of said guide and is now (with a little help from an ever-expanding team) ticking off all the pubs in it. This was to be the first of two 1975 pubs that we would be ticking for her today (as if we need excuses to visit pubs!).

So much to look at here! And I haven’t finished showing you round yet but I don’t want you getting thirsty, dear reader, so here are the pump clips.

Not the most inspiring range but (a) we were here for the food (and the tick), not the beer; and (b) I can always chug down a Wainwrights if forced.

Our hostess invited us to take a seat wherever we could find one and, as she handed us menus, pointed out that everything on the lunch menu was £7. Wowzers – that was a bonus. And might also explain why this pub was rammed on a Thursday lunchtime.

Foodwise, you know if I see curry on a menu then that’s what I’m having.

Kerry explained she currently had broken ribs after falling up the stairs whilst avoiding a cat during a night on the lash. As Kerry and Sarah discussed their various beer-related injuries over the years, I realised that I couldn’t remember ever having sustained one. A few goal celebration injuries, yes, but not beer-related. And there was me thinking I was a professional drinker. I felt like an absolute amateur.

This pub was an excellent find and we enjoyed our visit here very much. Definitely worth seeking out if you’re ever up that way (and hungry).

Back outside, we paused to take our photographic record for the 1975 chronicles. A random man kindly offered to take the photo for us but Kerry insisted she would take the photo because she didn’t want to be in it as she was determined not to get involved in ticking 1975 pubs. Hmm, wasn’t that what I said…?

But now we had more walking to do! Despite my Google Maps disaster in Liverpool the other week, we were once again at the mercy of my tormentor. Oh but look – there’s a disclaimer I never noticed before.

This was literally a straight line, though – what possible ‘real world conditions’ might impact our walking directions in this instance? Surely there wouldn’t be a fucking motorway in our way this time…?

We were pleasantly surprised to get cat-called from a passing car. Good old Wigan.

We continued into Standish until we spied our next pub on the other side of the road.

Albion Ale House, Standish

Dear reader, we stepped into chaos through this door. It appeared that the flooring was being done and, frankly, the place didn’t look open, despite the open door. We were advised that they were, in fact, open and we could have a drink but there just wasn’t anywhere to sit. Given we’d walked half an hour to get here, we decided to stay.

We managed to find some stools on the way to the toilets (no pun intended) so took a seat here. This was Extreme Micropubbing. This is a small pub as it is but we were confined to such a tiny area. The things we do, eh?

We’d had enough of walking by now so began to plot our route back into Wigan. Google Maps said we had to leave immediately for a choice of three buses, otherwise wait for an hour for a bus. Our hostess said that was nonsense and the buses were every 20 minutes but there was a cab office across the road. I called up the Uber app and the price was ridiculous because it was school run o’clock. We took the decision to wait for the bus.

And we waited.

And we waited.

And we waited.

After 40 minutes I’d had enough and we headed across to the cab office. We were advised that we’d have a half hour wait. Fuck that, we could be halfway there on foot in that time. I tried Uber again and the prices had settled down and our driver James would be with us in 20 minutes. Sorted.

Obviously two buses sailed past us immediately…

I spent the next 20 minutes tracking our Uber drive James – where’s he going, he’s overshot – oh he must be dropping someone off before he comes for us. Anyway it kept me amused as I saw him eventually creeping closer and closer. From his picture he looked like Mick McCarthy and, sure enough, when he turned up, he was the spitting image of the former Blackpool manager and fan of Akbars curries. Not only that, but he SOUNDED like him, too.

‘Not the easiest place to pick up, is it?’ he grumbled in a dour Yorkshire accent. Was it ACTUALLY Mick McCarthy?

We were soon back in Wigan and popped into the Swan & Railway to pick up Sarah’s phone and glasses. Tempting as it was to stay for some more of that lush beer, we decided we wanted to tick off a different pub before heading out of town.

But first, as we were passing Wallgate station anyway, we decided to call in and buy our train tickets to Atherton. As we stood at the ticket machine, a man approached me and said:

‘Are you Jane? From Blackpool? I follow you on Twitter.’

Hello Frank, if you’re reading. Enquiries revealed that he wasn’t going to the fest, instead heading off to do the pubs of Southport.

Right – now back to pub business. We stuck our heads in probably four pubs (it’s quite a prolific area for pubs, this) but there was nothing to excite us in terms of beer. By the time we got to the fifth pub, Kerry announced that we were having our flyer in here, no matter what beers were on.

Little Fifteens, Wigan

Beerwise there were nowt to shout about. I think the girls had keg Wainwrights but I skipped this round as I had my sensible drinking head on today (I had also skipped the second round in the Boar’s Head).

Just to note that this is part of a chain, with lots of Fifteens in and around Wigan, and Fifteens in St Annes is also related.

Anyway, no time for this, we’ve got a train to catch…

Eastbound

After some confusion with the departure board not matching the trains on the platform, we boarded what we thought was probably our train. Mercifully, that turned out to be the case.

I had my back to the screen depicting the upcoming stations but Sarah (a Yorkshirewoman who now lives in the sticks) got very excited at some of the station names.

‘Daisy Hill! That sounds delightful. I’ve got an image of Teletubbies frolicking on a hill!’

Kerry – having been to Daisy Hill with the football – muttered as we approached said station: ‘Just be glad it’s dark.’

‘Hag Fold! What a contrast! Do the good children get sent to Daisy Hill and the naughty children sent to Hag Fold?’

Kerry was in stitches at this point, having never experienced the utter delight of Sarah being Sarah before. I just sat there chuckling, delighted these two were getting along so well.

Concert Inn, Atherton

Right – now we had another 1975 pub to hunt down. Conveniently, it was on the same road as the fest. Inconveniently, Google Maps was being a twat again and directed us to the wrong address. We wanted 3 Bolton Road, but it insisted on directing us to Unit 3 of an industrial park. We pressed ahead and eventually found our 1975 pub (now a block of flats).

Again, Kerry was insistent on not being involved – but look we made her pose outside this one! You’re one of us, now, Kerry. Resistance is futile. Welcome to Club 1975!

On our walk back up Bolton Road to the fest, Sarah was confused by the word ‘sublimation’ in this context.

She was still talking about this in the queue for the fest (what?! we were expressly promised IN WRITING no queues). The man in front of us in the queue suggested it might be something to do with transferring images onto trophies and that finally seemed to satisfy Sarah such that she was able to move off the topic.

Bent n Bongs Beer Bash (Atherton Beer Festival)

After picking up a glass and a festival programme (beer brochure) at the entrance, we each addressed our differing priorities, which ranged from finding the toilets to finding somewhere to sit to checking out the scran.

Kerry was straight over to the food and returned with news that the hotpot looked disappointing (in a tray with a pastry top, as opposed to in a cauldron) – however the sausages looked immense. Hmm. I’d earmarked the hotpot as being the SlimmingWorld friendly choice. I proceeded to make investigations of my own and concurred with Kerry’s findings. I went in for the pork and black pudding sausage (awesome and pictured below, buried under fried onions, mustard and ketchup). I left the bread.

Oh yes – I couldn’t resist the Bury black pudding either. I only picked at this for SlimmingWorld reasons – sometimes I just want a taste of something – but it was delicious and fluffy.

Ah yes – and then there was the cheese… As always at beer festivals, there was a cheese counter. This one offered a cheese to eat on the night with crackers. Between the three of us, we polished this off in no time. This is definitely the future for beer festivals – why have I never done this before?

Of the cheeses available to eat on the night, the one we all really fancied was not on the list: chilli and lime. Kerry bought one anyway and kindly had a section cut off for me to try. I ate this immediately and enjoyed it very much. Dear reader, you know how I’ve mentioned that I tend to nod when I’m enjoying something particularly tasty? Well I’m normally on my own when I do this so have never had anyone react to it before. Sarah and Kerry looked at me wide eyed and asked if I was ok. Apparently my reaction seemed akin to – ahem – ‘I’ll have what she’s having’. Sarah took it upon herself to film this…

Anyway, I suppose you want to hear about the beer.

I definitely had my sensible drinking head on today, with only eight halves consumed over ten hours. Shush about the food.

A man came to join us at our table (which seated four) and decided to involve himself in our conversation. I was trying to explain how I make little tweaks to my life every day to remove stress and bring joy. I gave examples of having a dishwasher to avoid the pots piling up; and the sellotape dispenser that had been pissing me off for years (but only at Christmas and birthdays) but that Lee had now fixed so that it actually tears the sellotape properly so I was much happier now that annoyance had been fixed. Our new friend cupped my hand between his and told me that I needed to get a life.

‘Who invited you to join us, anyway?’

I had a message from Rob from Atherton Colls, who designs the front covers for my fanzine, saying the Colls photographer was here tonight and to say hello if I saw him. I promptly waved at the photographer and beckoned him over but it wasn’t the right one apparently. Anyway he seemed very nice and took my photo.

Now I don’t usually like music at beer festivals, preferring to enjoy conversation. However, tonight served up a rare treat in the form of a singer who had ‘come all the way from Chorley today’: Just Giorge.

The set was great, with songs from various eras to appeal to everybody. Bless her, she was addressing a room full of people who were pretty much paying no attention to her whatsoever. However she tried her very best to get the crowd going.

‘Come up the front and have a dance! I don’t smell. I actually smell really nice if you want to come up and have a sniff.’

Love this girl – and her pink hot pants. I wish I had the confidence (and the legs) to wear those.

The toilets weren’t the best (and I don’t just mean the stray apostrophe). However the toilet chat was amusing.

‘Don’t try the dandelion and burdock cider – it stinks of piss.’

On my arrival back at the table after my #LooReview, Kerry and Sarah were busy plotting a football trip to Malaga that apparently we were going on. Sounds good to me! Kerry and her husband Kev (who I used to stand with in the South Paddock at Bloomfield Road back in the day) often jet over there for football so they know what’s going on. I’d be more than happy to join them. I’ve only ever watched Blackpool overseas, so it would be fun to head to a random match just because. I’ve not even been overseas since 2019 thanks to Lee’s fear of flying. This sounded like an excellent plan.

As the evening wore on, Kerry got very excited by Tiffany’s ‘I Think We’re Alone Now’.

‘Ooh do you remember the dance?’

As she started dancing, I found I DID remember and started to join in. I think the beer had caused Kerry to forget her broken ribs, which caused much pain when she got to the ‘tumble to the ground’ part. I suggested another drink might help.

Our singer was still trying her best to get the drinkers dancing.

‘If this don’t wake you up I don’t know what will.’

And she launched into Proud Mary.

We were singing and dancing along now doing our bit. Perhaps we should have sat down the front.

Lee came to collect us at 10pm, dropping Sarah back at the Swan & Railway and taking me and Kerry back to Blackpool. Dear reader, it were a brilliant night (as the Hotpots would say). This festival had EVERYTHING and I enjoyed it all. There was a smidgen of guilt about the non SlimmingWorld friendly scran I’d spent all night scoffing but, do you know what? The beauty of the plan is that I can still eat this stuff (and drink) and lose weight – and indeed I lost a pound this week (with much more beer consumed two days later and in the same weigh week, which you can read about in my next blog). I simply eat on plan for the remainder of the week, go to the gym at least three days a week and do plenty of walking.

Wigan – you were smashing as ever. I can’t wait to be back soon for Wigan Beer Festival. Love you x.

If you enjoy these blogs (which are free to read) and want to say thanks and contribute to my beer fund, please follow this link.

Next up: Chasetown v Kidsgrove Athletic.