The Shepherds Arms, Wakefield

White washed pub in the outskirts of the town centre, on entering there is an overwhelming smell of cooked vegetables. The counter is straight ahead with two disappointing beers on handpumps, even worse on inspection they were found to be Wainwright Gold and Hobgoblin Original in handpump hijack guise (brewery conditioned), hazy and flat and fairly nasty. One horseshoe and a group of four solos with the usual suspects but including Murphys stout. Tartan carpet and rough cast walls with odd bits of tongue & groove, some exposed stone. Little sign of the historic features except the ceiling of the carvery section, I didn’t venture into the back rooms. Fellow punters were engaged in eating, the carvery is up a step or two on the right with a grey plague paint job. Not one for me.

Facebook page of The Shepherds Arms - www.facebook.com

Facebook page of The Shepherds Arms - www.facebook.com

Unfortunately this pub has had some sort of facelift done on it since Andy's photo from 2010 and it now looks a complete mess; well, it does to my eye, anyway. No doubt others will have different views. I ventured inside but the smell of roast meat was overpowering - and the presence of just the one beer on the bar (Wainwright) wasn't sufficient enticement for me to stay.

A fairly innocuous looking, but surprisingly historic, large detached pub, found a little way out of the town centre. Tudor in origin, it dates from the sixteenth century and was once known as Nether Hall. However, only the gable end gives a clue to its past. Once inside, there are four rooms, with the main L-shaped space and two further rooms to the rear (one of which houses a pool table and dart board) all pretty nondescript. However, the raised area, to the right on entering, is impressive with its dark wooden panelling and historic feel. At the bar there were three hand pumps, none of which were in use, although a collection of old pump clips, behind the bar, suggested a commitment to cask ale at some stage. On settling for half a Guinness, I asked the friendly barman if real ale was likely to return in the future, but he said it was unlikely, offering the old chestnut ‘that there was no demand for it’. Atmosphere wise, it was pretty dead during my Friday afternoon visit, with only three or four other punters in the place. However, looking beyond the lack of custom, it all felt a bit run down, lacking investment and TLC. As I polished off the last of my Guinness, ‘moribund’ was the word that sprang to mind, along with the realisation it could be so much more. Unfortunately, in its present state, the chances of a return visit are virtually nil. Visited 22.08.14