The West Riding on Wellington Street is overshadowed by a 'gentlemen's club' next door - you know the ones, inexplicably named after a colour & an animal (blue leopard, red panther, yellow armadillo..), yet deserves to stand alone as a decent venue in it's own right.
The pub itself is compact, with a confusing array of table and chair heights - barstools are positioned alongside cosy lounge chairs, making conversation awkward in a larger group. Despite this, there was a good number of office workers taking advantage of their lunchtime break to enjoy a pint and a read (there are plenty of newspapers available for all to read).
For a pub of this type, I expected to be greeted with a large selection of local ales, yet sadly there was only one guest brew available (Golden Pippin again...).
In a strange twist, the barmaid was telling me that the pub is reputedly haunted, and recently they held a series of seances to try and understand the unusual noises & unexplainable occurrences that have happened over the years. Sadly, that is by far the most interesting fact about a pub that has gone through numerous name changes (Bar 36, Bar Work), yet has failed to capitalise on it's prime location.
Absolutely fine, yet nothing to convince any punter to return.
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