Day Zero. I see my Dad get off the train at Leeds station, a sore thumb amongst the suits and skirts that rushed from the Cross County carriages. We bundled onto the connecting line and stuffed our rucksacks in the ample overhead shelves (funny how local trains have better storage than the national ones).

Not our B&B

After a Gregg’s pasty and a short walk through Keighley we got on the tiny bus to Stanbury, a Smart-car sized village near Haworth. Jimmy the bus driver steered us deep into Bronté country, stopping for the school kids to get sweets from the corner shop and saying goodbye to them by name as he dropped them at their front doors (well, front lanes). I expected Nick Berry to overtake us at any moment.

Day One. After a hearty breakfast made considerably more entertaining by an Anglo-Swiss double act who were also picking up the Pennine Way that morning, the hard work began and we set off north from the B&B, leaving behind home comforts and the original Hockney’s on the dining room wall.

Tom Cording was walking from Lands End to John O'Groats

Before long we’d bumped into the breakfast duo again, squabbling over a rock that may or not have contained a fossil and the Latin origins of a particular Yorkshire dialect. We marched onwards swiftly – avoiding the Barghest of Troller’s Gill – as we had a 1pm date with a pub plus one of my Dad’s friends, with no intention of being late.

At 12.30 we crossed into what could have technically been Lancashire and descended upon the Hare & Hound at Lothersdale. Two pints of Landlord in great condition were sunk before our company arrived and two more were sunk before we left. A Ploughman’s lunch soaked some of our sins but the afternoon walk quickly became more casual than the morning leg. A good bit of story telling was shared and more toilet breaks than expected took place.

John is not impressed with the Red Lion

The farmland that we’d ploughed through all day gave way to heathland which only let up as we hit double figures in miles and approached our first checkpoint, the indecisive town of Earby. Not quite sure whether it’s in Yorkshire or Lancashire, Earby’s architecture is a strange mix of Cotswold cottages and northern terraces, with obsolete concrete offices at the centre and a feeling of neglect eminating from the soulless brickwork of long-declined industry.

The Red Lion was recommended but the landlady didn’t have the time of day for us (literally), losing our custom within our first exchange. One pint of Wainwright (which I’dve swapped for a cool bottle instead) was swiftly sunk and we sought out the White Lion. There they couldn’t do enough to ensure we left imbibed and lubricated and that we did. The Red Lion was on the way home but we opted to save our pennies for the next day and crashed out at the Youth Hostel that we shared with no other guests.

Me atop a triangulation point near Lothersdale

A couple of miles into our first day on our second leg of the Pennine Way, we bumped into Tom Cording. Tom was only a day or two away from the half way point of his Lands End to John O’Groats walk and inspired both my Dad and I (whilst making us feel pretty lame for only doing 4 days walking as opposed to two months!). Tom is raising money for his local hospice, starting on the 25th April and hoping to finish by the World Cup final. You can donate a few pennies to his good cause here: http://www.justgiving.com/tom-cording

These were the second and third Nicholsons Pubs we visited on our day out. Both followed the same theme of the Nicholsons brand, a traditional style pub with a good range of real ales on offer. The format is the same up and down the country as we can see in Leeds’ own Victoria and Commercial and Scarborough Hotels.

I’ll cut straight to the chase…..the beers on offer were…

The White Lion, Covent Garden –

Black Sheep Brewery – Golden Sheep – darker in appearance than I expected from the ‘golden’ cousin of the Black Sheep. The beer was remarkably smooth, not in a London Pride ‘I could drink this all day’ manner, but a fuller more satisfying way.

Shepherd Neame – Late red – a promising fruity nose is borne out in the initial flavour. This fruitiness falls away to a nutty aftertaste that lingers in the mouth.

Morrisey Fox – Brunette – slightly acidic and sharp in the first instance, there is some fruity flirtation but ultimately it fails to deliver in full.

Timothy Taylor Landlord

Fullers London Pride

The Three Greyhounds, Soho(ish) –

Daleside – Autumn Leaves – the flavour delivers what the name promises with a smoky, dark fruit flavour lingering through to a distinct note of Raspberry.

Abbot Ale – a strong punchy English wake-up call to the taste buds. Darker and stronger than anything else I’d tasted on the day

The first impression of this pub is what I would expect from a pub on a main street in London. Initially I thought it was a little bit touristy, with oak panelling broken by up by faux medieval tapestry. That said there were more people knocking about in actual suits than in shell suits with cameras so I was willing to give it a try.

I took me about five seconds and a quick glance across the beer selection to decide that I liked the place, I didn’t realise it at the time but this was to be the first of three visits to Nicholson’s Pubs on the day and the range and quality of the ales available was top drawer. We sampled…

Timothy Taylor Landord - Reviewed by so many people before, I always think that it tastes a little fruitier on draught than out of a bottle.

Greene King IPA - This should be entry three in the Day in London series and I had had an American Pale Ale immediately before drinking this. After a bottle of the hop filled American cousin I found the Greene King a bit shollow in taste, probably more appropriate to a session but ultimately not a world rocking IPA.

Cairngorm Autumn Nuts - I really liked this Ruby Ale, it wasn’t massively hopped and I think  Fletch would probably have found it underwhelming, but there was still goodcflavour and it was spot on for me.  Pleasingly it does carry an autumnal feel and offers some warmth from the winter chill.

The bar was also offering London Pride and Hobgoblin and the range of autumnal guests in the pipeline spanned to 12 which the barstaff told me would be constantly rotating through the season.  Hats off.