Can anybody remember the pub in Beck Hole and is it the same as I remember? It looked as if you were going into someone's front door and the beer was served through a hatch in the wall.
It's a long time ago but is it still there?
Thanks, that's the one. It's changed since I was there but it looks like it's not lost any of the atmosphere just some of the heavy Victorian paint scheme.
Must pay another visit for old times sake and maybe have another game of quoits.
I was about to say that we were there a couple of years ago, but then realised it was actually 10 years! How time flies.
Ten years ago it was just fab, really old-fashioned, with a little sweet shop squeezed in between the 2 bars. I loved the small bar that only has room for about 6 people at best, and that the only food they do is baps - such a change from hand-cut twice cooked chips and artisan bread.
We went there twice. The first time, we intended to walk from Goathland to Grosmont, stopping at Beck Hole for lunch, and get the train back. Unfortunately, the beer at Beck Hole was so fab we rather over-refreshed ourselves and just rolled our beer-filled bodies back to Goathland.
The second time, we got it right and made it all the way to Grosmont.
I'm a big fan of the Beck Hole Inn but, in the interests of transparency, I have to admit that I do know the landlord and landlady (Neil and Glenys).
Things that may have changed since you were last there:
1. You can get pork pies at lunchtime
2. If you're lucky you can get some of Glenys' beer cake
3. There is a resident pub dog
4. There is a beer garden out the back (that might have been there before, I don't know)
5. You can buy a OO-scale model of the pub to add to your train set
Things that are probably the same:
1. The beer is still fab
2. The atmosphere is great
3. The snug still lives up to its name
4. The sweet shop is still there (beer and sweets - inspired!)
Heck, the mention of Beck Hole pub brings back long-forgotten memories for me: of camping with friends in a farmer's field (no sanitary blocks for us!) and tramping down to the pub in our afghan coats (we were cool before the word was applied to style) to guzzle as many pints of lager and lime as we could (we were young) then staggering back to our tents by feeble torchlight.
It rained, for much of the time, and those afghan coats sure did stink when wet! In squeezing our way to the tiny bar (I recall only two of us went in, at any one time), our aroma must have been a joy for the other drinkers!
Is that the one that had the little bar with a stone floor that welcomed muddy walkers and soggy dogs? If it is, fond childhood memories (from over 35 years ago) of that bar