Tailor-Made Day Out

It's been a while since we've had a new club to visit so Howard decided to join me on our trip to the East Midlands.

I met him in Da Vincis who have finally realised that the best way to get my tea just the way I like it is to give me the milk (I like it good and strong, a concept that has evaded them).

The breakfast was excellent too and as we boarded the 8:55am from St Pancras we were looking forward to a good day out.

On arrival at Derby station less than two hours later, we found Tony, Neil, Trevor and Brian already waiting - they hurried across the road for their own breakfast whilst Howard and I - along with John Bell who had just arrived - wandered pub-wards.

(left) The Brunswick Inn

The Brunswick Inn is just a hundred yards or so from the station and as we were early, we had a wander round the nearby streets as they looked quite interesting. The houses are all railway cottages, apparently the earliest such development in the country, built in the 1840s.

Both the houses and the pub survived proposed demolition plans and were sold by the council to a local trust who restored and modernised the houses and the now-listed pub.

The landlord opened up ten minutes early to let one of his locals in so we tagged along behind. The pub is a multi-roomed delight and there are three sets of hand pumps serving various beers in addition to those brewed in the on-site brewery.

The beers on offer from the Brunswick Brewing Company were Railway Porter, Old Accidental, Station Approach, Second Brew, White Feather, Triple Hop, Father Mike's and Tim's Soar Head (a beer brewed during a training course at the pub's brewery).

Beers from elsewhere included Martsons Pedigree, Everards Beacon and Flourish, Taylors Landlord, Burton Old Cottage Pastiche, RCH East Street and Burton Bridge Maschine Mann.

We stuck to trying the brewery's own beers and all of them were decent brews - I especially liked Station Approach. The breakfast boys then joined us as did Colin.

Just as at the Black Lion back in October, the main topic of discussion was the recent appointment of Simon Davey as Darlo manager. I think it's safe to say that we're all much happier this time around - I don't think we could have realistically expect anyone much better to come to Darlo.

After a couple of beers we wandered back to the station and joined a few familiar Darlo faces for the short train journey to Burton.

Lance and Ray Waters were already in Burton, ensconced in the Devonshire Arms so Tony and co. dropped in there for a quick pint or two.

Howard, John, Colin and I walked a little further to Coopers Tavern where we found Steve and Brummy Tony.

(left) DAFTS chaps in the Coopers Tavern

BT was at pains to set the record straight after I'd recently described him a jinx - he was one of the few of us who went to Salop last weekend for our victory and so he was keen to get some of the credit.

The Coopers Tavern is another great pub and you get a good vibe as soon as you walk down the passage to the pub. Originally it was the store for the Bass Imperial Stout brewed over the road and apparently brewers would pop over Cross Street and sample the stout - it later became the brewers tap for the Bass brewery before eventually opening fully as a pub.

The beer is still served as it is in all sampling cellars – direct from the barrel in the small back bar.

On offer whilst we were there: Bass, Castle Rock Harvest Pale, William Worthington Red Shield, Hoskins Old Navigation Ale, Thornbridge Raven, Storm Storm Damage and Backyard Brewhouse The Hoard.

Also on offer were a few ciders and perries too: Hecks Kingston Black, Broadoak Perry plus one from nearby Derbyshire producer, Scropton, with the wonderful name of Pig Winker - very good it was too.

The place was semi-busy when we arrived but most locals left after a while, presumably to see the Man Utd-Chelsea game. Either that or it was Lance's jokes or Brian's magic trick that scared them off.

Also joining us on parade today was Iain Swalwell making a rare visit to one of our games - as he was driving he was able to ferry some of us to the ground whilst the rest of us got a taxi (although John B insisted on walking - madness!).

(left) Howard struggles with a scratching - Iain finds it amusing

The Pirelli Stadium is a neat little ground holding about 7,000 fans and it was nice to have the whole of one end for the away contingent - standing too. The stewards and police on duty were very friendly.

We were a bit surprised to see that the landlord of the Brunswick Inn was with us in the away end - after having a quick chat it turned out he was there with a Darlo-supporting regular.

One disappointment - the only one of the day as it turned out - was that the faggots and peas (or poise as they're apparently called locally) were all sold out - it seems Mr Duffy had the last of them. They looked very tasty too.

The Quakers came out of the blocks as if they were chasing promotion - perhaps we really could achieve our third double of the season?

After half an hour it was a distinct possibility - a neat shot from Gray and then a close-range header from White put Darlo two-up.

There had been minimal threat from Burton but they pulled a goal back seconds before the break - a soft penalty given away by Arnison though the Burton forward added an impressive dive to convince the ref to blow for the foul.

(right) Who ate all the (faggots and) peas?

The second half saw Burton come more into the game though it could have swung back in Darlo's direction had the ref awarded a penalty by a Burton defender - apparently the ref apologised to Darlington after the game as he thought we were going to score from the rebound!

The defence were under pressure for the remainder of the game - Redmond made a few good saves and it was pleasing to see that he is now catching the ball rather than trying to punch everything.

I fully intend to take the credit for this after my 'advice' to him during the game at Northampton a few weeks ago.

Wasteful Burton finishing and the hard work of the defence eventually saw us through to the final whistle and a well deserved victory.

And now it was time to celebrate the win so we all (eventually) piled into some taxis and caught the early train back to Derby - Brian though had decided to hop on a bus to Derby instead.

We returned to the Brunswick and had a chat with the local Darlo fan we'd met at the ground - he lives a few doors down from the pub (lucky bugger) and must have been down here a while as he now has a distinct Derby twang.

(left) The warm afterglow of victory

Whilst some of our number departed to catch trains home, a few of us took Colin's recommendation and made our way to another pub.

The Smithfield was a bit of a convoluted walk away but was an interesting place with some decent beers (none of which I can now remember).

After a final pint I headed back to the station and caught my return train with just seconds to spare and eventually made my way (or more correctly swayed my way) to my seat at the rear of the train.

I have to admit that I don't remember much of the journey, suffice to say I woke up at St Pancras in an empty carriage ten minutes after the train had pulled in and with the cleaners about to start tidying up around me.

Now that's what you call a good day!

No Dreaming Spires Here...

It was a nice surprise to find out that Da Vinci's opens a little after 6am - this gave me plenty of time for a full breakfast before joining Mr Wilson on the 7:30am train to Chesterfield.

The journey was due to be three hours - one hour more than usual as it seemed to be stopping absolutely everywhere for the bank holiday weekend - but it was closer to four hours by the time we actually arrived thanks to track side failures and general dithering about.

And I thought Virgin Trains were poor.

We meet Steve and Colin at Chesterfield station and took a cab straight out to the Derby Tup, one of the Tynemill chain of pubs we know well. Steve tried to get hold of Lance and Ray - already supping in the Rutland - but was having trouble getting through. Not for the first time...

After no sign of activity from within the pub just a few minutes after opening time (11:30 according to the sign outside the pub) I tried the door and found it wasn't actually locked - feeling daft for not having tried the door I was non-plussed to find stools were on tables and a cleaner was still doing her rounds.

It seems there is a new landlord and he now opens at noon - the scourge of the away fan who likes his Saturday beer session to start early - and so we have to find something to do in Whittington Moor to waste 25 minutes. Not a lot as it turns out - a quick wander round Lidl for some pork pies and chocolate being the most exciting thing on offer.

(above) Colin and Trevor ruminate on the meaning of life, the universe and Darlo

On finally getting into the pub, along with Trevor and John Bell who we'd found outside on our return to the Tup, there was quite a decent range on offer - Harvest Pale and Preservation Ale from Castle Rock, Thornbridge Jaipur IPA, Hopback Summer Lightning and a couple from the Oldershaw Brewery, Grantham Stout and Old Boy.

I stuck to the tried and tested duo of Harvest Pale and the Jaipur IPA - an easy choice really. Both Steve and John B were taking it easy - Steve was not feeling well and John had suffered at the hands of his wife driving over here from Chester and was still a bit light-headed.

The Tup is a nice, traditional pub but was virtually dead on this lunchtime - apart from the six of us there was probably only another half dozen customers whilst we were there.

That is likely to change in the next year or two once Chesterfield FC relocate to a new ground in Whittington Moor. Perhaps then they'll open a bit earlier.

We arrived at Saltergate a few minutes before kick-off - Steve was still not himself and opted for the comfort of the stand - the rest of us headed for the open terrace despite the odd drop of rain - it's not often we get the chance and we were hopeful the rain would pass over. It did.

(left) John still in a daze after his wife's driving

The main topic of conversation amongst the fans was the non-appearance of Liam Hatch and Danny Carlton - it seems the Football League have suggested all may not be well with their loans now that we're in administration and so we can't play them until it's all sorted - or maybe not play them at all - cue rumours of points deductions and relegation to the conference. God, we're a cheery lot.

The first half saw us under quite a lot of pressure and not much action up front to relieve it. Quite predictably Jack Lester, this league's top scorer, was tumbling theatrically at every opportunity, looking as if he's spent six months on loan at the Bolshoi, and the home crowd was baying for free kicks. Come on lads, have some dignity - you know what he's like...

At times it was pure gritty last gap defending with Ravenhiill, White and Miller holding firm - so much so that Kazimierczak didn't have to pull off many real saves.

The second-half saw us take the initiative and take the game to the Spireites - Abbot came more into the game with support from Burgmeier, Poole and Main - and it wasn't until late in the second half that Chesterfield looked like scoring.

It was a more-than-deserved point - the team's attitude was magnificent under the circumstances and they were given a prolonged ovation as they were warmed down after the final whistle.

One Chesterfield fan accused of coming for a point with ten men behind the ball but after chatting with him on the way back to the station, I suspect he was more frustrated with his own side. They seem to have no love for their manager and little more for Jack Lester despite all his goals.

Thankfully the journey back to St Pancras was a speedy trip - Martin and I enjoying the comfort and quiet of first class whilst abandoning John to standard class - and after a well-deserved snooze, John and I were in the Betjeman Arms for 8:30pm.

Liz and Jenny joined us a little later for a couple of drinks and then it was time to go home a little bit earlier than usual - the weekend's not over yet...