A Night in Silverdale

Silverdale is a village on the Lancashire coast that is as lovely as it sounds.

For a village of 1,500 people it offers plenty and the sunsets are stunning. We stayed at the friendly Silverdale Hotel, apparently one of twenty listed buildings there. It’s a few yards from the sea and home to a mighty breakfast.

It has three pubs (though the Royal hasn’t reopened since lockdown) and the most dangerous library in Lancashire.

Micropub hours

On the way there we stopped at the Canal Turn in Carnforth and got chatting to a man walking his dog. He knew Silverdale so I asked him if the Woodlands was still the same. “Ah yes, the Adams family house” he replied, referring to the gothic style building dating from 1878 that overlooks the village with views across Morecambe Bay. It’s a Good Beer Guide regular with good reason but I hadn’t been for twenty years.

Woodies as it’s known is about a mile uphill walk from the sea. The phone signal disappears on the way up – naturally there’s no WiFi – and it looks much the same as it did all those years ago.

Back then the Guide said “much of it is very run-down but the bar is cosy”, which was code for meaning the furnishings were on life support and the place smelt of decaying owls. The furniture has been replaced and the owlish smells are no longer, but there was still the sense of a proper pub, well supported in the village.

It’s still quirky. The current Guide states “to ring the pub you need to ring twice”; presumably they won’t answer the first time. It’s the sort of pub where small groups of men sit in silence for several minutes then say “I’m not sure Dave but I think it’s 6 by 12” while across the floor beside a vast fireplace a couple were discussing a restaurant that scored a hygiene rating of zero.

My beer was Nettle Thrasher from Elland Brewery. It was 4.4% of coppery gorgeous that would once have been described as a a Premium Bitter.

I wandered back down past the church, the many stone buildings and the incongruously modern fire station.

And rejoined Madame Luna at the Silverdale, only to find the pup had switched from cask Banks Sunbeam to craft 61 Deep. Dogs eh?

His first Non-Beer Guide tick

Later we walked the dog over The Lots. As the sun went down it was all rather magical.

13 thoughts on “A Night in Silverdale

  1. Thanks for the description and photos of Woodies. I missed it by a few minutes last time I stayed nearby – there was a midafternoon close – and I’ve not had a chance to go back since. The Royal I found to be not very pub-like, so you haven’t missed much there.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “Silverdale is a village on the Lancashire coast that is as lovely as it sounds.”

    Wasn’t there a popular TV show with that name?

    Oh, wait. I tell a lie. That was Emma-dale. 😉

    And, finally! I find out where all of the online arseholes come from. Obviously they are manufactured at Bottoms Farm. 🙂

    “and the most dangerous library in Lancashire.”

    I can see why they don’t have time to grit or clear snow. They’re practically open all hours!

    “Micropub hours”

    (slow golf clap)

    “The phone signal disappears on the way up – naturally there’s no WiFi”

    My darling wife is currently in a small hamlet in northern BC that suffers a similar fate. Won’t be able to talk to her until late Thursday; when she’ll be back in Whitehorse to fly home.

    “and the place smelt of decaying owls”

    Having never smelt a decaying owl I shall take your word for it!

    “while across the floor beside a vast fireplace a couple were discussing a restaurant that scored a hygiene rating of zero.”

    Ewwww.

    “It was 4.4% of coppery gorgeous that would once have been described as a a Premium Bitter.”

    You lot really go in for low ABV stuff. Not that I’m disparaging mind you. When you sup pints they had better be toned down a bit!

    “I wandered back down past the church,”

    Love the dominoes clock above.

    “Dogs eh?”

    Are you going all ‘Canadian’ on me, eh? 😉

    “As the sun went down it was all rather magical.”

    Blimey. Nice shot!

    Cheers

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Think the tradition of lower ABVs partly has its origins in taxation of stronger beers but may be wrong. There are many flavoursome very low strength beers but we do have to up our game when drinking abroad to adapt to the higher gravities. Cheers!

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      1. Good point with regards to the higher ABV when abroad. 🙂

        And yes, I think the taxing of higher ABVs had something to do with it. Might have read that in something from Pete Brown or even in my copy of “The Death of the English Pub” by Christopher Hutt… published in 1973. 😉

        Cheers

        Liked by 1 person

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