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Feb 11 2012

The Station – Ribblehead (3rd Visit)

We were back on old stomping ground today, starting and finishing our walk in the shadows of the Yorkshire 3 peaks, at the Ribblehead viaduct. As such, at the conclusion of our walk, our watering hole had to be the Station Inn.

Having reviewed this on a couple of occasions recently, there isn’t much more to say about the layout of the place that hasn’t been commented on before, as it hasn’t changed since last time, and it will always remain popular due to its location.

The car park to the rear however did resemble a skating rink, and no effort had been made to clear this in any way, thus getting from car to pub (and vice versa after a few sherbets no doubt…) was trickier than most of the 8 miles walking we had just encountered. Added to this, the foul stench emanating from the B&B rooms adjacent to the pub, things seemed to leave a lot to be desired.

However, the open fire was roaring away the minute we entered the pub, as Sir Edmund approached the bar to do the honours. Three pops and a pint set him back just shy of a tenner, but we happened upon the delightful homemade pork pies displayed on the bar. I opted for the black pudding variety, and Wu Tang plumped for the standard plain one…or so she thought. Sir Edmund had to wait as he had requested the one laced with chilli, which was shorttly despatched from the kitchen to our table.

It turned out that Wu Tang ended up with exactly the same pie as Sir Edmund and not the plain one as requested, and thus the southern softie had to cut out her chilli section of pie. Never to mind though as Sir Edmund didn’t let it go to waste! The pies set us back £1.75 each, which although not cheap, we roundly agreed they were very tasty!

Ramblo meanwhile, opted for the chips. Not advertised as chunky, nor gourmet, nor any other false description we have happened across previously, she received a good (un)healthy portion of hand-cut homemade chips for £1.95 that certainly seemed worth the money. She polished them off in double qucik time to back this up!

Even all the unruly kids running amok in the place (all there to see the locomotive, The Oliver Cromwell which passed over the viaduct during our stay as the picture below taken by Sir Edmund whilst ordering drinks at the bar proves) couldn’t dampen our spirits, nor the fact that we were sat to the rear of the fire thus missing out on most of the warmth.

Added to that, the table could have done with a wipe down…and the menu too to be fair. But it was all worth it for those pies!!

Beaky

 

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