Mahinda’s Little World

It’s a Thursday evening in early May, so what should I do but end up chatting about reality TV with a (self-made) multi-millionairess…in a bar…in her basement…drinking her beer. It’s a hard life.

It was a Stockport & South Manc CAMRA trip over to Thornbridge Brewery, in deepest darkest Derbyshire (almost Sheffield, as it turns out).

Normally, a trip to a microbrewery goes something like this:

1. Turn up to dilapidated-looking shed on an industrial estate.
2. Traipse around plant.
3. Drink beer, eat food.

Not this one.

The coach turned through the cast iron gates into acres of sweeping landscaped gardens. There were trees, there was a small lake…there were even swans!

Then we saw Thornbridge Hall itself. A rather impressive stately home with a somewhat chequered past, having had several owners; some rich, some poor. One was chairman of the Midland Railway, I think, and had his own railway station installed round the back of the house. Another was an early-adopter industrialist, who installed all sorts of gadgets; unfortunately, he decided to invest heavily in German industry circa 1910…oops.

The current owners, Jim and Emma Harrison, bought the place a few years ago and have been doing it up mightily, with conference facilities and the like…and a brewery, which is why we were there.

First, we were taken through to the bar for a pint. Thornbridge do a very fine selection of ales indeed — always of very high quality, the St. Petersburg Imperial Stout is one of my favourites, while Jaipur IPA is a very rare thing indeed; an IPA that I actually like.

Beer in hand, we were given a tour of the brewery itself, tucked away in what used to be the carpenter’s shed, etc. and then taken for a walk around the grounds before going back to the bar for more drinks and a pretty tasty cold buffet — proper rare roast beef sandwiches and quality pork pies being the standouts for me.

Freeplay table football and pinball were added bonuses, in what was a very cool little bar — it looked almost swanky nightclub-esque with the lighting and ambience, except of course that it served quality ale. It used to be an air raid shelter, I think.

Eventually, we had to leave, back on the coach to humdrum Stockport.

All in all, not bad for a Thursday evening.