I passed by for years on bike and bus, never stopping for a pint but intrigued by the distinctive Sixties architecture, an exciting adjunct to the adjacent Woodley Precinct.
The physical embodiment of the post war brick and concrete optimism which permeates the post-war period. When full employment in a plethora of manual trades ensured a steady flow of post work-customers, expecting a steady flow of Robinson’s draught beers.
Then one day I passed by bike and you were shuttered up, sat silently on Hyde Road, the windows of your soul staring blankly at the passing parade.
When I pass by all the people say, just another pub on the lost highway.
Just down the road from my home on Didsbury Road, stands a pub on Didsbury Road.
The Dog and Partridge once an estate pub, clean lines, bare brick, fur coat no curtains.
You know the score.
Over time a boozer gets ideas about itself, ends up getting rendered and whitewashed by the Brewery’s guileless gentrifiers, who possess the unwholesome taste of a past their sell by date bag of pound shop crisps.
Not satisfied with the Farrow and Ballisation of our culture, we now have to contend with the Argosifiers too.
Where will it all end?
I’ve never been in, thieves have though!
A masked gang were frightened off from a Stockport pub by the landlord and landlady.
Officers describe the gang as wearing dark clothes and balaclavas and carrying large knives.
Detective Sergeant Geoffrey Machent said: “The landlord and landlady were understandably shocked to be confronted by these three intruders in balaclavas. Thankfully neither of them was hurt, but we want to stop these men from doing this again.”