Chronicles of the Berkshire Pig: Light Bites, Brig City

West Allotment Celtic v North Shields, Northern League

Brigg Town v Nostell Miners Welfare, Northern Counties East League

England v New Zealand, Rugby League Test Match

A three game weekend started on the Friday with an HST to Pad, then the 0947 Kings Cross - Hull throughout, as we were staying in Hull.

No time for any proper cheese, so the Ilchester selection and some Fullers bottles were had from the Waitrose.

After dropping off bags, we were back on to platform 2 at Hull Paragon. This was the focal point for BBC comedy in the 1980s, being both the arrival point for Uncle Albert in ‘To Hull and Back’, and was also the platform where Basil Fawlty has the hilarious mis-communication with Jim off Eastenders in Clockwise.

To perpetuate the cringeworthy comedy, ‘taches have been added to the front of some trains in homage to Movember.

Soon we were heading under the Humber bridge…

….and after a quick change at York, we were rolling over the King Edward bridge over the Tyne, and into Newcastle, an hour down due to a broken IRJ at Durham.

First stop was the no longer guide listed, but still excellent, Centurian bar on the station for a Mordue – Radgie Gadgie from the away team location of North Shields.

Next was a wander down to the quayside for guide regular Crown Posada, which is very, very narrow but very long. An Allendale Pennine Pale.

A couple of quick stops at the Bridge Tavern brew pub for the in-house Flying Sentry and then the hell hole that is the Old George for a Consett – White Hot, before on to the Metro to Benton. These have the driver in an enclosed cab in the corner which means you can sit next to him and petend to drive.

West Allotment Celtic 2 v North Shields 0, Ebac Northern League

West Allotment was a pit village between Newcastle and Whitley Bay. However, the mine is long since gone and the football club have also now moved a couple of villages away to Longbenton. Allotment were in the Northern Allinace for many years before being promoted to he Northern League at the turn of this century. They have had a couple of promotions and releagtions and are currently in the lower part of the table.

North Shields have a long history in none league, with a few name changes, but had their greatest success last season when they won the FA Vase. They are currently fourth.

The ground is actually the head quarters of the Northumberland FA and is also where Newcastle reserves play, so West Allotment were someway down the signage pecking order.

But eventually we found them.

The pitch is set out at a lower level to all the facilities, which gave an impressive mist clad atmosphere when we arrived.

Hand shakes. Every game. Fucking hand shakes.

Being a relatively local derby, and a Friday night, the crowd was noticeable up on the 91 average, the lowest in the division.

Ground has hard standing on three sides, then a raised terrace with pre-fab stands on the club house side…

….though this is my favourite seating of the season so far.

North Shields Ultras either have interchangeable allegiences or didn’t plan their flag printing very well, the devotion having to be expressed across to flags. True to form, the ultras were all 14, and for the first time ever I heard the ‘what do you think of shit’ chant, sung about West Aukland. The other repartee consisted of singing their postcode over and over again. N – E – 29, say NE29.

There has been a distinct lack of rusting barbecue equipment on my travels this season, so I was glad to see that three different varieties were provided, all in their own cover.

The game was of a very decent standard. Very commited with lots of chances, mostly to Shields, but was 0-0 at half time. In order to get the last train back to Hull, we had to leave half way through the second half. By this time West allotment had nicked a goal, and went on to score another after we had gone. Maybe not deserved, but I would’t begrudge them it as they were a very decent set up with lots of cheerfull helpers. We headed back to Benton station for a Metro back to Central station.

From there it was the last train south of the day, this being the unmistakeable view of the Tyne Quay from a Mk4 FO. Another change at York, and the last train back to Hull where we were disappointed to find that the Welllington had closed.

Next morning it was the 0856 to Sheffield…

….which had scored a direct his on some local wildlife on its way down from Bridlington.

This was taken to Donny, for one of the five a day East Midlands trains dog boxes along the joint line that parallels the East Coast Main Line south.

This was taken across the Lincolnshire flatlands to Gainsborough Lea Road. This is located on the outskirts of town but has an hourly service, mainly the Sheffield – Lincoln trains.

First port of call was the town centre Canute, which despite being Guide, had the horrendous choice of Bombardier, Courage Best, Hobgoblin and Pedigree.

We soon moved on to the excellent Eight Jolly Brewers where a Dukeries – Bess of Hardwick accompanied a rant from the Landlord who discovered that one of the bar staff was stealing Bailies.

Next two pubs were further out of town. Note to signwriters, if you are going to advertise you are a unisex salon, don’t do it on a recessed surface.

Next tick was the Elm Cottage for a Leeds Pale, the pub being right in front of the football ground.

Next venue listed was the ‘Gainsborough Blues Club’ which turned out not to be full of lowland jazz musicians, but instead was the Trinity Supporters club bar. Batemans - England Expects/We’ve Blown It was an apt choice.

Also gave an opportunity to get a quick photo of the ground, with long walk bothering apparel makers Ping being prominent in the ground as they have their European headquarters in the town.

Least enticing matchday parking ever.

There was significant publicity around the town for Trinitiys forthcoming FA Cup tie with Shrewsbury, who are probably as surprised as we were about their Goliath branding.

After picking up two arrivals who had travelled up in the morning via Retford, we headed off to the other station in the town, Gainsborough Central. Although the location is true to its name, this feature is tempered somewhat by it only having three trains a week, all on a Saturday.

Further insult came with local non-league rivals Brigg getting in on the act.

In no time at all, a third of that weeks service arrived, and we were off across the baron agriculture of Lincolnshire.

After a couple of stops with no one adding or subtracting from the five people on the train, two of us alighted at Brigg, with the other two continuing to Grimsby to watch the ra-ra final.

The station has the same level of service as Gainsborough Central, and sits in a desolate wasteland…

….with this fella guarding the entrance.

Two guide pubs in Brigg. Firstly the Nelthorpe Arms, with a Brewsters – Hophead and a Batemans – Gold.

Then the Yarborough Hunt with a Tom Woods – Lincoln Gold and Pesky Poacher.

Ground is just on the edge of town, which we found whilst traipsing through some allotments.

A somewhat refined main entrance, it being the open gate to the right of this helpful notice about Guy Capp.

But this confirmed we were in the right place.

With the turnstiles being tucked away in the corner.

Brigg Town 1 v Nostell Miners Welfare 3, Toolstation Northern Counties East League, Premier Division.

Brigg proclaim to be the oldest Town club in the world, how much of a boast that is I don’t know. They dicked around for the first 100 years before getting involved in the pyramid in the 1970s. They are on their arse a bit at the moment, having being relegated from the NPL and now bottom in the NCEL.

Nostell are a mining village team from Wakefield, only recently rising up to this level. I ticked them a few weeks ago at home.

Brigg is a decent set up, with a full length seated stand down one side, and a shorth main stand on the other.

Most of the sparse crowd were in the bigger stand.

The game was ok, but Nostell scored three early in the second half, and it tailed off.

Leaving some spectators to choose other games to watch. Note the great adverts on either side; fishing lakes and mobile homes.

What’s the point in having precision stripes if you then let it drip everywhere?

In the club house was a bespoke beer, which managed to beat untappd.

The bogs doubled up as a warm up room.

We spent a small fortune on our quest for three Ken Barlows.

When we finally made it back out, we were by the dug outs, noting Briggs ‘acquired’ collection of warm up balls.

And the premium advertising opportunity.

Brigg did get a goal back but too late. Still, a decent game and a nice set up. We had time for one more at one of the more obscure name pubs.

Before heading back to the station for the last train of the week. Do phone cards still exist?

Bang on time we got to clear 66% of the weeks train service.

And so on to Cleethorpes…

….for the guide pub on the station.

As we tucked into the Castle Rock – Harvest Pale, his bloke made regular enquiries as to whether we wanted him to prove he was a real pirate by buggering one of us. We politely declined. We then got a lecture about how people from Hull are the ‘gypsies of Yorkshire’.

After quick check-ins at Nottingham House and Willys, all too soon it was time for the last dog box on the Barton on Humber branch.

This was taken to the terminus…

….for a bus across the humber bridge back to Hull.

It was Halloween and it seemed we were the only ones who weren’t dressed up. This was the rather surreal scene in the bus.

So you thought the night shot off the Tyne bridge was shit? How about this one off the /humber bridge looking towards Hull. I think that’s the moon.

Next day it was the 0926 unit along the coast up to Scarborough.

If you are still following, I’ll reward you with one of the great dull railway facts. Scarborough has the longest station bench in the world.

After walking straight down to the beach, we chose the funicular railway to get back up.

This could be a new form of rugby matchday travel for me. I’ve combined the Bridgnorth funicular with a game at Bewdley for football to clear it for sport.

Allegedly the hottest November day on record. I wouldn’t go that far but it was still very pleasant.

A wander up to the North Riding brew pub gave the opportunity to get some pics of the very well-appointed Scarborough Cricket Club, the ground for some reason being sponsored by Coventry University.

After a inhouse US IPA and a near death experience with a Carolina Reaper Scotch Egg (2.2 million SHUs) which caused hallucinations whilst trying to watch the cricket, we headed back to the station and back to ‘ull.

We then headed out to the KC, with the feral horses doing little to dispel the Cleethorpes jibes.

England 26 v New Zealand 12, Rugby League International Series 2015: First Test

The game was very well hosted. Fancy lasers and the like. Here is the inevitable picture of New Zealand doing the Hakka.

New Zealand dominated the first half hour, but some how it was 12 all at half time. Here we wait for the video ref to give Engalnds second try.

Which Widdop converts. Introduction of Roby, Burgess and Ferres made a real difference and England walked the game 26-12. Six tries, which I think was more than in the whole of the RFU world cup?