The Macintosh Arms...

It’s hard to imagine finding a decent pub in Goole. A discreet STD clinic, perhaps, or a convenient dogging site, but not a really good local boozer. And yet…

I called in at the Macintosh Arms, near the docks, last week. It’s a characterful little pub full of memorabilia about Goole’s great days as an inland port (hint: we’re not talking about the 21st century). I passed the time of day with the barman, chatting about this and that. It was only when he said “You’ll be retired, then”, making it sound more like a statement than a question, that I said I was a writer… and would carry on scribbling until I was too old and stupid to string two words together. He said he’d started to write a book, but had never finished it. The book was about Islam until he realised that “all religions are as bad as each other”, so he broadened the scope to include Judaism and Christianity as well. Gobsmacked by this bizarre coincidence, I said “That’s the book I’ve just written!”

I’ll be back at the ‘Mac’ some time soon. I’m sure there will be many other stories to hear, as I stare out of the window at the cranes and lifts and hoists.

The Town Hall, Pontefract...