Friday, May 20, 2011

No. 49 The Waggon & Horses

Visited on 19/5/11. First up on our sortie into the wild north west of Chester was this big 1960s housing estate pub. Built on the city side of the round-topped hill that is Blacon, it stands on open ground and now enjoys a splendid panoramic view of the greyhound retail park. The pub deserves top marks for the correct spelling of ‘waggon’ (as opposed to the American ‘wagon’) but unfortunately this is negated by a hideous pencil drawing of arch gobshite Bill Shankly, prominently displayed above the bar. These things are important. Housing estates like Blacon will always have a small minority of headcases in residence and those kind of people will usually gravitate towards the nearest hostelry. However, the reputation of ‘the Waggon’ as a bit of a rough house is largely based on myth or supposition I reckon, perpetrated by people from elsewhere in Chester who’ve never been near the place. On this occasion anyhow, it was reasonably full (the bar side anyway) and perfectly placid. I wouldn't be surprised if it got a bit more feisty at the weekend, mind. We got a few ‘looks’, but that was mainly to do with our admittedly curious choice of footwear (cleated cycling shoes ! – well we weren’t going to walk all the way out there). No real ale unfortunately, but we had a half decent pint of guinness and the barmaid was dead nice.


  1. "Where's yer racer" grunted the pot bellied, drunken, local". It's actually locked to a metal fence several hundred yards away thanks to people like you" is what I thought of saying, afterwards, in the next pub.

  2. Those shoes of yours were always going to attract attention - should've stuck to the regulation slingbacks. If it had kicked off in there I'd have been like bambi on ice with those metal cleats on the tiled floor.