Tan Hill Inn, Richmond

Will Larter left this review about Tan Hill Inn

The thing about tourist honeypots is that the money pours in no matter how badly you run the place. There were maybe 15 cars, motorbikes and mobile homes parked outside when I arrived before noon on Sunday, having cycled up from Grinton at the bottom of the valley, and more were arriving by the minute, including some Morris dancers. A queue had formed at the bar, with no one apparently serving, though a man was lighting a fire with half a dozen logs and a whole packet of firelighters. One of the warmest days of the year so far, even at 1732 feet above sea level, but his job was to light the fire, not to serve drinks. The actual server soon returned with half a dozen cups of coffee, which explained some of the problem, but when she started to pour beer there was also a bit of a problem with froth. The man in front of me asked for a bitter shandy, and was asked what bitter he preferred. A quick glance told me that there weren't any bitters on the bar (about eight hand pumps, in widely separated clumps, partly hidden by clutter, with only maybe three real ales on) but he named Theakstons which was clearly off, and was offered the next Theakstons pump which was Old Peculier. Now the point of drinking a shandy is to reduce the alcohol in the drink; to make it with a 5.6% beer is irresponsible. My pint of Black Sheep Blonde (their Best Bitter was another one that had gone off and not been replaced, along with Kirkstall Three Swords) was frothy enough even without the addition of lemonade, wasn't in good condition (NBSS 2.5) and set me back £4.95.

When I sat down in one of the side rooms I observed another member of staff writing names and times on reservation slips to put on the tables. This was a good idea, as the slip encourages people to use the table until the time stated, but the printed form didn't have table numbers on it, so the lad was having to check the list for each slip that he put on a table, and had to go round all the tables again to make sure he'd got them right. He clearly needed supervision but wasn't getting any, while the lass behind the bar was trying her hardest, running just to keep still. Who was managing the pub?

I decided to relax rather than critiquing the performance of the staff. There were some interesting photos and maps on the walls showing the pub at various ages, and the coal mines that used to cover the whole area. I'd have liked to have stayed longer, but the background music was getting on my nerves and it was only a matter of time before the Morris dancers started to do their thing, so it was back on my bike and down yon hill.

Not sure I'll be back.

On 26^th June 2023 - rating: 5
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