Clitheroe v Chasetown

First game of the season! My options were thus:

a 1730 kick off at Crawley for the Blackpool match; or
Chase away at Clitheroe, which coincided with a food festival and the launch of a real ale trail.

I briefly considered incorporating a trip to Brighton into the Crawley weekender but decided the cost would be ridiculous – and news of the food fest and real ale trail in Clitheroe clinched it for me. Plus I had a free ticket to use on Northern owing to a recent delay so I could get to the Chase match for nowt.

I arrived at Blackpool North station just after 0900 and realised I’d probably need some sort of sustenance to see me through to arrival at the fest at 1100; if I was ravenous when I got there, I’d be more likely to make Bad Food Choices. Aside from fruit (yawn) there is nothing healthy to eat on the station, so I went with this.

Let’s face it, it wasn’t going to be a healthy day anyway, so this would be a drop in the ocean.

Eastbound

I like to make practical use of my travel time (I’m writing this blog on a train), so this morning I immersed myself in writing my Best Blackpool Boozers summary blog (if you haven’t read it yet, you can find it here).

I can get totally engrossed when writing – as if I’m transported to another world. If I’m writing at home, I have to ask Alexa to remind me if I’ve got some food cooking, else I’ll forget all about it (until I smell it burning). Today, writing on the train, I almost missed my stop at Blackburn. If the station hadn’t been announced, I would have sailed past and ended up on the wrong side of the Pennines.

Southport going one up on Blackpool here with the musical fireworks.

Passengers for Clitheroe were advised to board the front two carriages of the connecting train. This led to some congestion but years of train experience meant I managed to quickly spot and secure a seat amongst all the amateurs.

I tried to read my book on this leg of the journey (Sharp Glass by Sarah Hilary) but couldn’t help but earwig on the conversation of the women next to me. They went from updates on the latest boyfriend to deciding on a coffee machine that wasn’t too faffy (they gave up in the end).

Disembarking at Clitheroe, I got swept up in a slow-walking crowd, which was fortunately (unfortunately?) heading to the same place I was.

‘I’ve never seen a train so full as that before,’ remarked a man who had clearly never commuted to work in a city.

Clitheroe Food Festival

I continued to be pulled along by the swarm of the crowd into the heart of the food festival. I peered into each stall as I passed, looking for something suitably tempting to eat.

I love Thai food so I opted for this Green Curry. It was advertised as hot but they must have meant the temperature. Anyway it did the trick, lining my stomach for the pub crawl ahead. I continued to walk around the food fest while I ate.

Just how interesting ARE the bananas in Clitheroe that they warrant their own circular?

I would have brunched here, had I seen it before I’d eaten.

Doesn’t this picture epitomise The North?

I’d researched the food fest the day before and there was one thing in particular I was seeking out today. Before I’d found it, I was lured in by a free sample of this.

And then I found what I was looking for.

I love ginger, me. Gingerbread, ginger beer, ginger ale…anything on a menu with ginger in it. I suspected this would be cracked into soon.

The gingerbread stall offered six or twelve pieces of gingerbread and I went for six (all Paddington would allow). A couple close by were debating how many pieces to go for.

‘Twelve?! Absolutely not Ben. I don’t need twelve,’

‘Well I want twelve.’

I couldn’t stick around to find out if Ben got his way because I realised I had to get away from this food fest without delay for diet reasons.

Besides, Saturdays aren’t for shopping, they’re for drinking and football, right? So let’s get down to business.

New Inn

According to my local source, this was where the real ale guide was being launched today, so this seemed like the logical choice to begin my pubbing.

Lots of beers to choose from in here today.

I took a seat in a vacant room (a welcome break from the crowds outside) and perused the literature I’d picked up this morning.

I’ll confess I’d have preferred all of this material plotted on a map on my phone. That said, with all the trouble Google Maps caused me last season (see Liverpool and Newcastle), perhaps reverting to paper maps might not be a bad idea…

I had a lot to pack in pre-match (i.e. EVERYTHING) so I didn’t dwell here for too long before heading off in search of another pub.

Alas no time to linger here for a reading. Perhaps next time?

The Ale House

Right, what to drink here?

I went for this because it was something different.

I had the London Black on my last visit.

I was disappointed to not find a Beano to read (as I had on my last visit) but I was too scared to ask the man behind the bar.

I perched on a stool by the door and was forced to take in my surroundings because I couldn’t get any signal on my phone.

I think this is Latin for: ‘in heaven there’s no beer, that’s why we drink it here’.

The micropub began to fill up with food festers as the rain began to pour outside. I took this as my cue to leave because (a) I’m not keen on busy pubs and (b) I wasn’t enjoying the crowds outside and it should be quieter out there now.

Beer Shack

Now onto my fave pub in town. Why? Just look at this beer board.

I couldn’t decide between two beers, so I had a half of each of these.

I was asked if I was drinking inside or out. Whilst I was hoping for inside, it was busy in here, so I couldn’t be certain of bagging a seat. I therefore hedged my bets and ended up with plastic glasses. This isn’t something that bothers me as it does some folk; they’ve still got beer in them, which is the important thing.

As it was, I headed out back and found a seat at a table with a lot of empty glasses on it (profuse apologies were offered when it was cleared) but otherwise I didn’t have to share my table.

There wasn’t much signal going on here either so I took to earwigging on the group at the next table.

‘I’ve got beers and champagne for later by the way. No food.’

I figured that would get messy.

I spied a man entering the beer garden wearing a Lancashire Hotpots tee.

‘Nice top! I was going to wear that today.’

He proceeded to tell his mate that his tee had been given to him by Dickie from the Hotpots and it was ‘unique’. Hmm…

Right. There was easily time for another before the match. I consulted the beer board that I’d photographed above and approached the bar with every intention of ordering a milk stout. Alas the bar was busy, which allowed me time to peer into the fridges while I waited…

I never think to ask for these but three thirds is ideal for a place with a beer board like theirs.

I asked for the WiFi password because I’d gone way too long without signal now (not ideal when drinking alone) and this was pointed out on the wall next to the bar. Result.

I had been in touch with Ian from Clitheroe CAMRA (or whatever the local branch is called – East Lancashire, I think), who I managed to track down to being in this pub right now. I spotted him on the next table and handed over the beer mats that I’d been collecting for him since I last saw him at the corresponding fixture last season.

I was beginning to feel the beer so decided it was time to stop drinking and head to the ground. But not before making a pit stop to review the loo (ooh there’s a queue).

I got chatting to a couple of women in the queue and recommended the chocolate rum.

The well-stocked loo was worth the wait.

Before I head off to the ground, let me just show you what was on at Holmes Mill this weekend, since I’m not taking you there today (owing to self-imposed time constraints).

Right now onwards to Shawbridge!

I think it was the White Lion that I passed where there was live music belting out from the beer garden (I could hear this from the Beer Shack beer garden). Clitheroe was certainly the place to be today. There was so much going on and I wanted to be at the hub of all of it.

Handy arrows pointing the way to the entrance.

I had my usual ‘do they take cards?’ panic but it was fine, they did, so I got in without any trouble.

I bumped into Edna immediately on entering the ground and had a good catch up with her and John. Again I was asked if I would consider returning to work at Chase but I explained that home matches were a faff to get to, so I’d probably mainly stick to away games. It was great to see Heidi again, too, whose son, George Cater, is back playing for Chase again this season.

I recently had a bit of a cull of my Facebook groups, leaving those groups I wasn’t active in, including one called Non League Bins. Obvs I’ll have to rejoin now to post this beauty.

Apologies for the worst dog photo ever below. This was the massivest dog I’d ever seen and even the scale of the mutt isn’t really obvious from this photo. I will do better for future Non League Dogs pics. Soz.

I felt I’d done well avoiding further alcohol in the ground. However I couldn’t get to half time without having something else to eat. All I’d had was that curry at 1100 and that wasn’t going to see me through. I headed to the refreshment kiosk to see what was what.

Here’s what I had:

This really was an excellent sausage roll (and the last one, too!). Looking back at that menu, I do wish I’d also asked for some homemade gravy just to try it. I’ve never had gravy with a sausage roll before but imagine it works well.

I tucked into two pieces of gingerbread by way of pudding. One of many things I love about non league football is that you don’t have to worry about what you’re bringing into the ground. At Blackpool, I’d have had my rucksack searched and my gingerbread and rum confiscated. It’s far more civilised at this level and I prefer being treated as a human being (as opposed to not being trusted to be allowed to have a lid on a bottle of water in case I use it as a missile).

Yesterday our hosts had tweeted (or x’d) the below pic of their pitch.

Stunning, right? But it doesn’t really capture the essence of the pitch for me. By which, of course, I mean the wonk.

I succumbed to a pint of Bowland Hen Harrier at half time and caught up with the goss. Apparently Hednesford are really going for it this season, with players on £1k a week, courtesy of their new millionaire owner. I’ll confess hearing their name still irks me after they beat Blackpool in the FA Cup in 1997, so I can’t bring myself to be pleased that they’re on the rise again, after somehow escaping relegation last season.

Oh today’s match? Chase took the lead through a belter from Langy but went on to collapse and lose 4-1. Here are the highlights. See if you can spot me in the crowd.

As you’ll see from the video, the weather brightened up as the match progressed and it was positively scorchio by the end.

I left the match a little early (in a strop at the scoreline). As I stomped back to the station, a man stopped me to ask what the score was (why does this never happen when you’ve won?). He punched the air when I said Clitheroe were 4-1 up when I left.

Westbound

It was bloody roasting on Clitheroe station but I managed to find some slight shade in the corner of a shelter on the platform. It quickly became busier, with food festers making their way back towards Blackburn with their hauls.

Happily, I managed to secure a seat on this busy train, too, and buried my head back in my book for the journey home.

Back in Blackpool early, I had intended to visit a couple of pubs here to complete my research for my Best Blackpool Boozers blog – however I’d had quite enough to drink today already (the one at the ground is ALWAYS a mistake and yet I continue to do it because I can). Instead, I pencilled that in for another night and headed straight home – where I tucked into some more gingerbread and cracked open the chocolate rum (oops).

Cheers, Clitheroe – you were a treat, as always (football excepted). See you again soon!

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Next Up: Grimsby Borough v Chasetown.