Gateacre sure loves naming its pubs after bovine of notable colours. The Brown Cow sits around the corner from the Black Bull and feels like what its name implies, a pale imitation of its neighbour.
This is a threadbare locals' pub where the barmaid knew everybody's name despite the fact I could see no reason for anybody to return enough for her to learn it. It was decent enough for a swift pint but it was also home to a decor that felt two days away from being ripped out and done up.
It wasn't a good sign that the barbershop two doors down was livelier. I'm not exaggerating either it looked like a party. We were craning our necks to see the origins of the merriment. After seeing that, how could you now go the Brown Cow? read more