Reservoir fogs

ABOUT halfway up the high road from Langdon Beck to Cow Green reservoir, in Upper Teesdale, there's a notice identifying the 74 square kilometre Moor House national nature reserve, rising - rousing - to 2,782 feet.

Fines of up to £20,000, it warns, will be imposed on anyone "intentionally or recklessly" destroying, disturbing or damaging the habitat. You don't get that for thumping a polliss.

Another sign advises that Moor House is "Britain's leading site for research into the effects of changing climate on the natural environment". The climate changed almost immediately.

A stiff breeze became within a few hundred yards the sort of gale for which the Met Office interrupts radio programmes to crave the attention of all shipping; the lurking rain which looked like it might have thought better of the job and gone home again descended in torrential tandem, as if from some celestial power shower.

It was another of our Spring in the Step excursions, and this time with a goal: back by 2pm to open the real ale festival at the Langdon Beck Hotel.

The day had begun, agreeably, with breakfast at Penny's caf in Barnard Castle. Plan A was Bailie's, a few doors down, where Mr George Brown from Spennymoor had recommended the chips. (If ever a man knew his chips, it's Geordie.)

They weren't open that early, much less with the chip pan on. Penny's? Wise.

It's a welcoming little place, decorated with informatively captioned prints of steam trains balancing atop Deepdale viaduct and other images of old Barney and served by pleasant young staff.

When they forgot the smoked salmon with The Boss's scrambled eggs, the chef himself brought the replacement - plenty more fish in the sea - and his apologies.

The all-day breakfast (£5.75) was substantial, attractively presented and with meat from Peat's, the celebrated Teesdale butcher. A breakfast with a smile on its face.

If there was a small problem, and there usually is, it was the aberrant apostrophe and, yet again, the misspelling of the word "omelette". Grandmothers and eggs come to mind, but it's amazing how many places can't crack it.

Thereafter to Langdon Beck, the hotel wonderfully revitalised under Glenn and Sue Matthews's seven month incumbency. First, however, the six mile round walk to Cow Green, controversially flooded in 1971.

A bedraggled couple heading in the opposite direction swore there was a caf near the car park at the top. That we never saw it is perhaps unsurprising, as we could hardly see the other side of the road, but had they, in turn, simply seen a mirage?

Other signs declared Cow Green to be one of two places in Britain where the round-mouthed whorl snail could be found - how do they know? does English Nature really leave no stone unturned? - and that it was the world's best understood upland site.

What seemed yet more comprehensible was the need to get back down to the pub, where coal fires blazed brightly and 20-odd real ales had all but overflowed the dining room.

Glenn Matthews left school at 15 with nothing more than a swimming certificate, studied for a law degree in his 30s but six weeks before graduation, suffered a stroke which left him speechless for six months but did nothing to dilute his East End accent (or his passion for West Ham United).

He had a pub in Tower Hamlets or somewhere, came to upper Teesdale as part of an Open University geology course, fell seriously and sacklessly in love with the place. Hamlets, certainly; Tower Hamlets, possibly not.

The pub's now hugely hospitable and immaculately kept, inexpensive food ranging from Teesdale lamb casserole to jalapeno balls of fire (with chips). Overflowing book shelves offer everything from a 15 volume Oxford History of England to the last hundred issues of National Geographic magazine. Lots of lighter reading, too. Beers included Buckley's Best, Black Dog and Cauldron Snout - from the Darwin Brewery in Sunderland but named after the turbulent waterfall a couple of miles from Cow Green.

Paul Dobson had come up by bus from Bishop Auckland - "You don't think I'm going to drive all this way and just have a pint," he said - Alastair Downie, the self-styled Weird Ale Warrior, had hiked over the top from St John's Chapel and arrived bearing a striking resemblance to the Wreck of the Hesperus.

Another chap produced from his pocket what he claimed was the world's most efficient rabbit snare, for which he sought an investor; it looked for all the world like something from a Christmas cracker. Paul Dobson listened to the wind, wailing. "It was like Barbados in Bishop this morning," he said. At one stage the bus driver looked in, too - this was the countryside, remember - to see if anyone was going back down dale. They advised her of the error of her ways, or words to the effect, and continued contentedly. The next bus was in three hours.

We left before the next bus did, but will undoubtedly be back. The Langdon Beck, happily, is in full spate once again

* Except on Wednesdays, Sundays and bank holidays, buses to Langdon Beck and other remote parts of Teesdale, including Cow Green, can be had on request by ringing the Alston Road garage in Middleton-in-Teesdale (01833) 640123. There is also a wheelchair accessible route around Cow Green to within 100 yards of Cauldron Snout. The Langdon Beck Hotel (01833) 622267 now serves meals seven lunch times and evenings and also offers accommodation.

OPENING gambits continued when the column was invited to cut the ribbon - and make a speech on behalf of the nervous owner, poor chap - at Darlington's newest Indian restaurant.

"What day's the official opening?" we'd asked the ubiquitous Mohammed - forever just Mohammed.

"What day can you come?" said Mohammed, flatteringly.

Most of the other guests appeared to be medical men. Had there been a major incident alert at Darlington Memorial last Tuesday evening it could have ended up as dinner for two.

Radhuni's in Parkgate, a street of eateries, the name Sanskrit for the spice lady in charge of the kitchen. Mohammed previously owned the Garden of India, Reema in Coniscliffe Road and that place on the A66 near Sadberge. Like all the world's wise men, he's also an Arsenal supporter.

The menu is described as "contemporary Indian", the decor is incredibly and invigoratingly swish. The do was jolly, the food very good, the naan bread (of all things) terrific.

The opener managed to wield the scissors without stabbing anyone: it was the most improbable party trick of all.

THE Ship at High Hesleden, inland from Blackhall on the Durham coast, is described in the 2005 Good Beer Guide as "an amazing example of how to transform an ordinary local". Spot on. A visit last Thursday - five hand pumps, terrific home made quiche - confirmed that Peter and Sheila Crosby continue to steer an immaculate course. One of County Durham's great pubs.

A QUICK lunch last week at the Bodega in Westgate Road, Newcastle, rightly renowned for its admirable range of real ales - from Skye to Tring this time - but less famous for its food.

On the other side of the table sat the Rev Leo Osborn, lifelong teetotaller and chairman of the Newcastle district of the Methodist church, tucking into something called steak and Workie Ticket pie.

Until informed that it was one of Mordue's best beers, he had perhaps assumed a workie ticket to be a Geordie irritant. "The beer," pleaded Leo, "was indiscernible."

...and finally, the bairns wondered how you tell if your cat's eaten next door's pet duck.

It's looking down in the mouth.

Published: 07/06/2005