Lamb and Packet, Friargate, Preston

They say university is a chance to reinvent yourself.
For some going to away to study represents a long-awaited chance to break free from old routines, habits and friends, to start afresh.
For others it is an opportunity to do something different, a hair cut perhaps or a whole new wardrobe.
But others take more drastic measures in the days and weeks before they leave to begin their degrees, overhauling all of the above and much more, creating an entirely new persona to parade in front of strangers who don’t know any different.
Of the people I have known take a ‘personality reboot’ the success rate has been mixed.

Some, you can immediately tell look really good and feel happy, while others are clunking around in heavy leather boots with nose piercings which have gone septic.
So when the Lamb and Packet reopened after a summer overhaul I was keen to see which route it had taken.
I am seldom shocked walking into a pub because there is generally, very little to be shocked about, but shocked I was.
The entire interior has been completely stripped out, leaving not a single shred of the old place.
Instead it has been painted a kind of beige colour with bright lighting, high stools, sweeping corner seats and a stylishly tiled floor which all combines to create a clean, airy modern bar.
In terms of a personality reboot, the Lamb and Packet’s has been monumental.
From being a stalwart Friargate drinkers’ pub, unchanged and seemingly unchangeable, it has become the ultra sharp, chic bar of a post-smoking ban era.
For a while I lamented the sweeping away of a traditional pub’s character.
But as I worked my way through my pint of Thwaites Wainwright, I came round to thinking there could not be too many people who will miss the old place, otherwise it would not have had to change.
There was one major drawback however, which jarred horribly with me – the music.
I didn’t notice it so much when I first went in, so taken aback I was with the pub’s new look, but with disco beats and happy/scratty/ yappie pop tunes blaring out, it was hard to ignore for long.
I went back a second time, praying I had caught it at a bad moment, but instead found myself tearing my hair out a second time.
For me, when it is late afternoon something a little quieter would be better and if they feel the need to roll out the disco beats, at least wait until Saturday night when people are in the mood.
With this ultra fresh facelift and an enticingly cheap food menu, the Lamb and Packet seems to be reaching out for the students who are about to converge on the city with freshly replenished loans and their latest new looks to flaunt.
It was a brave move taking such an extreme shift in image and despite the music, I am sure this is one personality reboot which is here to stay.

Running Pump, Catforth Road, Catforth

Anyone who drinks regularly in a busy city centre pub will become accustomed to an unwritten, unspoken, maybe even subconscious code of practice, which should steer them away from bother, towards a good night out.
This ‘code’ for which I cannot think of an amusing name, contains rudimentary guidance such as ‘Do not go and sit at someone’s table you don’t know unless they invite you’, ‘Do not insist you want your beer in a jug with a handle on it’ or ‘Do not tie your dog up outside because it will either be clamped or stolen’.
There are, of course, variations and some codes are inevitably more effective than others.

Before I had even got the bar at the Running Pump I was faced with a dilemma which went against the grain, jarring horribly with my code that has served me so well.
Coat hooks. A line of them. All out away from view of the bar and the seating areas. 
‘If you leave anything out of your sight in a pub then don’t start sobbing when it disappears’, is one of the rules I live by.
But there were already a couple of coats which had been left there hanging, vulnerable and unguarded. So I thought ‘When in Catforth….
The 300-year-old pub was packed and we had to wait to get a seat but it was great to see a rural pub busy, with so many of them dropping off the map, including the Bay Horse just down the road.
Eventually, the perfect seat became free right next to the bar and close to a well-established open fire, I was made up.
In the two main bar areas there seems to have been a real effort to preserve much of its original character, rather than replacing features with modern, rustic-looking decoration, while a side room which holds a pool table, is a little more modern.
After enthusiastically seeing off a pint of Robinson’s Dizzy Blonde, I stood up to get in a pint of Unicorn, when I noticed a plaque on the wall above the seat which read ‘Old Farts Corner’.
A premonition perhaps but why fight it?
I had such a good night I forgot I had been away from my sweaty old coat all evening but it was, of course, still there.

   

The Black Bull, Garstang Road, Preston

If a pub was to be judged on floor space alone, this pub would win hands down.

It is an enormous hulk of a place. You could set up a department store in it and still have plenty space left over.

But if you go into the pub on a Friday night you will immediately realise every metre of this ‘super-size me pub’ is needed.
It is often packed solid with jolly drinkers, many of whom I am told make a weekly Friday pilgrimage from Garstang. I always thought there one or two decent pubs in and around Garstang but, the Black Bull it seems, is serving the pint of choice.
Maybe it is because it is the only pub which can hold so many of them, I don’t know.
Inside, the pub is thoroughly modern, light and bright without slipping into the trap of slabs of offensive chrome and mirrors everywhere. Given the choice I would always pick a traditional pub but here is a place which is clean, modern and thoroughly welcoming.
Part of its draw is an almost aggressive array of discount meal menus which helps put hundreds of bottoms on seats.
I was speaking to an old chap whose grandchildren took him into the pub for a meal during the winter. He got a table next to one of the ultra trendy but genuine open coal fires and ‘had the best tea I’ve ad in’t ages.’
 In fairness he doesn’t get out very much but the pub which is slap in the middle of Fulwood and perfect for a stop-off.
Outside the pub has a reasonably sized beer garden which includes large umbrellas, heaters and a smoking shed.
On one of the main roads between Preston and the motorway it won’t be the most peaceful pint you ever swig but there always seems to be plenty of people there when I go past on a sunny day.

The Guild, Fylde, Preston

My intrepid weekly jaunts have so far taken me out to sup pints in a wide range of venues, from wonky-windowed old country pubs, to bargain-priced sports bars and, ahem, ‘suburban gastro’ pubs.
But, there is one very important element right at the heart of our city’s nightlife, which I have so far neglected to include - the student pub.

It cannot be overstated how much Preston relies on the ever-increasing flow of students pouring into the city laden with student loans, which are very quickly exchanged for drinks and big old night outs.
In the vicinity of the University of Central Lancashire there are a glut of pubs which cater for just these people.
Your archetypal student pub is not hard to spot, it is usually painted a funny colour on the outside and packed with funky furniture on the inside.
If in any doubt as to the intended audience, look out for big kids’ toys like a punch machine or arcades.
I decided to head for The Guild because I knew they would be serving at least two real ales and the ‘entertainment’ machines had been removed.
It is a big  imposing pub with lots of seating areas, including leather seats ideal for sinking back to force someone else to get in a round.
There are also screens dotted around the pub showing live sports including Premier League football.
But when a match is on, the seats particularly the lazy leather numbers, are taken quickly.
For me the best feature of the pub is a television screen which is set above a double doors facing through a window outside.
It means that on a fine day you can sit under the covered terraced area or on one of the benches behind and enjoy a match without missing a rare day of sunshine.
The ‘outdoor screen’ is limited in that you have to be square on to get a good view, so you will need to get there early to get a good seat.
But then again you will be sitting out in the sun so it doesn’t really matter.
In fact as far as outdoor drinking goes, the pub has much more space and many more benches than any of its neighbouring venues.
So if you want to take inside outside, this might be the place to go.

Ribble Pilot, Mariners Way, Preston

A group of friends and I once decided to pop into the Ribble Pilot for a quick pint before seeing a film at the Odeon.
It was one of those bad decisions which don’t have any bearing on your life whatsoever, but you rue them as if they had sent you into a spiral of decline.
Firstly the pub was awful. Tired, dreary, run-down and outdated, the bar maid chuntered her way through a quiz to a handful of disinterested drinkers, interspersed with lengthy breaks for great bails of tumble weed to roll on through.
My second regret was needing the toilet throughout the film.
But several months ago the Ribble Pilot, which is part of the ‘Two For One’ chain, closed for a long overdue refurbishment.
I expected a lick of paint and perhaps a new carpet but they really went all out with a major overhaul and extension.
Inside, the pub is now brighter and cleaner as you would expect, but the overriding first impression was how much bigger it seemed. A seemingly small extension onto the side has made a huge difference.
But I was more pleased with what the pub had done with the land surrounding it.
When I first moved to Preston I was really surprised more had not been made of the waterfront bar potential of Preston Dock.
It seemed to be crying out for a line of pubs, bars and restaurants charging over the odds for the same thing you can get in the city centre, except without the view – like Cardiff Bay.
Now at least the Ribble Pilot has cottoned on to this with extensive grassed seating areas around the pub, including a pergola and kids’ play area.
It may be hemmed into the corner of a retail park but it is a start.
Miss Chardonnay sidekick and I decided since we were popping in, early evening on a Friday, we would stay for tea.
So, with our beer garden waterside view secured (though thankfully not too close because the water is a bit green at the moment) we had a meal to welcome in the weekend.
Scanning the customers, I was surprised how many groups of young people were doing the same thing.
 Clearly dressed up for a night out, they were starting in the Ribble Pilot for a cheap dinner before heading out for a night on the tiles.
This certainly would not have happened a year ago.
The pub was also very busy which offers hope for The Waterfront pub which is currently closed but undergoing a major refurbishment.
It was recently damaged by fire but if they do a good job on the re-fit, it seems there is the customer-base to make it work.

The Continental, South Meadow Lane, Preston

Since starting this column I had repeatedly resisted the urge to review the Continental because it already receives lots of publicity in our newspaper and plenty more elsewhere.
But temptation, that most beguiling of mistresses, finally grasped a firm hold of me and whisked me to the bar, before I had a chance to protest.
When I first moved to Preston nearly four years ago I would regularly pass the pub on the way to a jog in the park and think what a great shame it was the place was shut.
With Avenham and Miller Parks on its doorstep and more importantly my house less than a mile away, it seemed to be in the perfect location.
It was though just a distant dream and I fully expected it to be converted into ‘stylish riverside apartments’.
So when the pub’s grand opening arrived I was rejoicing and calling for a city-wide Bank Holiday to be declared.
Inside the decoration has been kept clean, simple and airy, making it an inviting environment for a meal out with the family or a pint with friends.
The owners have also got it right in the beer garden, with a large grassed area and simple flower beds with lots of patio seating and covered areas with heating.
On a sunny day the conservatory and garden a real draw for everyone from park strollers, to runners, cyclists and of course many of my fellow real ale enthusiasts.
The pub goes all out on its ales and always has a wide selection on offer.
If I was to pick a fault here it would be a real struggle but I would say they stock too many golden ales, where I prefer a slightly darker beer.
But, with all that eulogising done I am only half way through the story, probably less.
Based at the pub is an independent company called They Eat Culture which uses a converted kids’ play room to put on everything from plays, to live music, writing classes and comedy.
From nothing, this organisation has become one of Lancashire’s leading lights for attracting and showcasing creative talent.

Ye Olde Blue Bell, Church Street, Preston

This week I have travelled back in time and fallen head over heels in love.
In case you were worrying I have not auditioned for a re-make of a shameful ‘comedy’ in which Nicholas Lyndhurst travels through a random time portal to the Second World War, and pretends he is a secret agent.
No, this is the real thing because I went and spent the evening in Ye Olde Blue Bell.
After just a matter of moments within, I was smitten; my heart was stolen.

And what could possibly capture the affection of such a, ahem, discerning drinker?
Well the price. A pint of real ale cost me just £1.60 and my friend’s lager weighed in at £1.91, meaning the round came to an astounding £3.51.
To think, for almost four years I have been traipsing the city’s pubs and never realised that within 20 minutes of my front door was a real portal to a decade ago or more which would, no doubt have the aforementioned time traveller trotting up north to give it a whirl.
Mr Lyndhurst (I’ll persist with the awkward analogy now) would no doubt be bowled over with the incredible time-travel themed prices which must be the lowest in Preston.
But he may also point out the white-washed exterior walls looked like they had last been painted when the average price of beer was £1.60.
I would tell him in no uncertain terms to stop being so rude point out its external appearance is a ploy to deter those who are not worthy of voyaging back to an era before every pint of beer was strangled with tax.
And if that didn’t work I’d tell him I’m not taking him in.
Aside from the bargain prices inside the Samuel Smiths pub, it is clean and tidy with lots of seating areas and snugs, which again seems to hang onto its original layout and character.
I can’t quite describe the colour of the walls and there are some interesting figurines dotted about the place but all things considered, from now on I will be jumping back into the Blue Bell time machine as often as possible.