The Pub Run Reviews

I signed up for the Great North Run one year, despite the minor detail that I hate running. To motivate myself, I started jogging to pubs a few miles away, having a drink, then jogging back. This blog is a record of those runs, the pubs I visited, and whatever thoughts were sloshing around after both.

1. Vinnie's Bar, Workington★★★☆☆

My first run was a catastrophe. I decided it might be nice to run across the cliffs, and didn't realise until I was at the top how knackered it would make me — and also how little protection I had from sunlight up there. So I scrambled back down the cliffs through someone's private property and lost my keys. Also, as it was all off-road, I'm not sure how long I ran, but I have estimated from Google Maps it was about six miles before I got back to the town and into the first pub of this year: Vinnie's Bar. the sign stated in glorious Papyrus.

As you step into Vinnie’s Bar you see a sign that says "No Drugs". Signs like these are a good indication of a place's reputation. For example, when you see a sign that says "No Fly Tipping", you can presume some fly tipping has gone on.

By the same theory, when I saw the sign saying "No Drugs", I didn’t instantly think “Yay, this place is drug-free!” Instead, I assumed they had a drug problem.

Nevertheless, I tried to enter Vinnie’s Bar with an open mind… well, as open-minded as one can be of a pub that has two of the sides boarded up and a half-peeled sign from when the pub was foreclosed.

In fact, Vinnie’s Bar had many intriguing signs. Another one advertised that Vinnie’s now had a pool table — which was also illustrated by the massive pool table in the room. Another one explained they had karaoke on four nights a week (FOUR!?).

Above the bar, there was an offer on vodka that seemed to imply it was 20p cheaper to get a vodka and coke than just a coke?

The room was covered in Christmas decorations — which I presume were left from last year rather than preemptive of this year — but I guess they are past the threshold now so they may as well soldier on.

There was also a 50p jukebox on one side of the bar, which I presume had been queued up before I got there by some internet troll, as the image I was greeted with was a group of tough, forty-something day-drinkers listening to an endless supply of Taylor Swift and Little Mix.

I sat opposite the bar on a big comfy leather sofa with the lemonade I ordered (well, vodka and lemonade, I’m not an idiot), and enjoyed watching the camaraderie and joviality of the happy locals, who were clearly enjoying the atmosphere at Vinnie’s Bar.

As for Vinnie himself, I couldn't find out much about him other than he was the owner's father. But if this bar is any indication, he was a man who enjoyed Vodka, Christmas, Taylor Swift, karaoke, and pool... I think we would have got on quite well.

2. The Golden Lion, Harrington ★☆☆☆☆

So, The Golden Lion… IT WAS JUST A BLOKE’S HOUSE! Admittedly, he had gone to the trouble of getting “Golden Lion” written on the side of it, and a bar installed in the living room — but essentially, just some bloke’s house.

There was no one but me and the barman/landlord/homeowner when I entered the “pub,” and he treated me with the disdain and confusion anyone would treat a stranger who had barged into their home asking for a drink — with the obvious and vital difference being that HE was the one that wrote “Golden Lion” on his house and put a sign that said “Open” on it!

Actually, I say it was only me, but as you can see from the picture, I was also sat across from a one-armed mannequin in a Hawaiian shirt offering me a crushed Carling can."Oh good," I thought. "That's normal."

At this point I wondered if this is what the landlord wanted: to turn his house into a pub, surround himself with mannequins and serve beverages to those mannequins for the rest of his days. If anything, I had ruined the illusion that this man had clearly put a lot of effort into crafting for himself.

But just as this thought entered my brain, a couple walked in, said hello to the landlord, and sat down to watch the horse racing. “Thank Christ!” I thought, “It IS a pub.”I was relieved I hadn’t ruined anyone’s life, but also that I hadn’t essentially climbed into a stranger’s transit van that he’d spray-painted “FREE ICE CREAM” on the side.

The Golden Lion was equipped with some nice real ales, Wi-Fi, and a dart board — but then again, so does my dad’s house, and he doesn’t go round saying it’s a pub.

All in all, The Golden Lion was a fine house but quite an unnerving way to enjoy a drink. The lesson here is that just because you want your house to be a pub, it doesn't mean that it is…

Best of luck to him though. His wife's going to kill him when she gets home.

3. Travellers Rest, Wideopen ★★★☆☆

I ventured into Travellers Rest, where I was greeted by the mother and son team working on the bar. I perused the drinks available to find that the pub had decided not to take advantage of any of the local beers and ales the North East has to offer.

However, after my run, all I really wanted was a cold pint of reasonably priced lager — which was exactly what I got.

Juxtaposed to its name, Travellers Rest seems to function mainly with the local residents in mind. It is situated next to a betting shop, and the handful of punters in the bar take turns to wander to the betting shop, place a bet, then return to the pub, order a drink, and look on at the many televisions showing an array of different sports.

There is a sense of joviality and community in Travellers Rest. One man named Steve turns on a stool and addresses the entire bar, regaling a story of a recent trip to Las Vegas and all the casinos he visited. Another man asks if he got a chance to see any shows while he was there… he is promptly mocked.

The decor suggests they’ve tried a lot of things to bring in new customers, and the room is peppered with kids' menus and posters boasting pub quizzes and acoustic singers. There is also a sign pointing to an impressive but seemingly underused coffee machine.

Throughout my brief stay, I listened to the constant soundtrack of loud 80s pop pumped through the venue’s speakers from artists such as Spandau Ballet, Adam Ant, and — at one point — a completely non-ironic playing of Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up.”

It’s true that Travellers Rest is not the trendiest of bars, but its beauty is in the fact that it doesn’t try to be. With its friendly staff, cheap beer, and free Wi-Fi, I would certainly recommend a visit.

4. The Tudor Rose, Dunston ★★★★☆

The Tudor Rose stands out as a marvellous beacon of rural escape among the grey backdrop of industrial Dunston. My friend Kalim and I made the lengthy trip through the busy and vibrant lights of Newcastle's Quayside to the dark and under-populated village of Dunston in Gateshead. However, we both agreed as we stepped into the Tudor Rose that it felt more like we had found a hidden gem down a Northumbrian country road due to its antiquated and rustic interior.

Admittedly, as pointed out to us by "Jen" on the bar, although the foundations of the building are very old, the inside features are mock Tudor and have been made to look older than they are. I don’t have an issue with this if it is done well — and the Tudor Rose certainly does it well, with its stone walls leading to an old fireplace and low ceilings supported by large oak beams beautifully adorned with an array of colourful beer mats pinned throughout the venue.

They have a nice selection of real ales in keeping with the theme, but we opted for a couple of pints of posh Italian beer that comes in the fancy glasses — which came to the reasonable price of £3.30 each. (I should point out I don't know the usual price for these beers in the North; all I know is we used to sell them at my old work for a fiver.)

The atmosphere and experience of our stay at the Tudor Rose was an utter delight, but if I had to pick fault it would be the toilet facilities — which were a dingy and whitewashed harsh reminder of reality within this lovely oak-aged venue. Now, I am not one to not visit a bar because of the state of the toilets (they are just toilets, after all), but it does add something special when the theme of the bar feeds into the facilities — for which I can certainly commend places like the Parcel Yard in King's Cross Station.

All of this is just splitting hairs though, and when all is said and done, the Tudor Rose is exactly as the name suggests — a beautiful wooden haven blooming through the cold and modern surroundings.

5. Captain Nelson’s Tavern, Maryport ★★★★☆

Captain Nelson’s Tavern is a nautical-themed and HMS Victory-inspired pub in Maryport, a seaside town on the west coast of Cumbria. All of the pubs I have visited recently have been in towns by the coast, but Maryport seems to be the only one that celebrates it.

Accompanying Captain Nelson’s are also the Lifeboat Inn, the Sailor’s Return, and several other seafaring saloons. The other thing I noticed about Maryport was the abundance of blackberries. Everywhere. Just waiting to be picked, for free. And supermarkets have the cheek to sell them at £2 a punnet! I feel like I have unearthed a conspiracy. Does the Prime Minister know about this!?

So halfway through my 11-mile trip with aching limbs and a belly full of blackberries, I stumbled into the maritime haven that is Captain Nelson’s Tavern.

The interior was amazing — the bar itself was made from the hull of two ships, adorned with wooden wheels and lobster boxes. There was a jukebox in the corner — but an old-style colourful one the shape of a Weetabix that charged 30p a song. There were naval maps on the walls and candelabras on all the tables. Even the ashtrays in the beer garden were oyster shells.

I stood at the bar/stern and had a wonderful conversation with the barman, Daniel. He enquired about my jog and then we both had a bitch about the Great North Run and their fees and such. It was nice. I realised while I was talking that I had been so busy since moving to Cumbria with sorting the house out and looking for jobs that this was my first proper conversation with one of the inhabitants.

Then I ordered a lime cordial and he returned a moment later and asked for £1.50.

ONE POUND FIFTY!! FOR A FUCKING LIME CORDIAL!!What is this, the QE2!? I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS, DANIEL!I realise you’re standing in a boat, but are you actually a pirate!?

I could literally go to the Co-op down the street and get a whole bottle of Schweppes lime cordial for the same price. IS THIS WHAT NELSON DIED FOR!?I mean, I don’t know much about Captain Nelson, but it is my understanding that he spent his life sailing around kissing blokes called Hardy and inventing columns and wrestling moves — NOT fleecing customers for lime cordial at the equivalent price of five songs on the colourful Weetabix!

Other than that though, great pub. Really nice. Besides, I made my money back with blackberries on the way home.