You know The Crown Inn: it’s the gorgeous Victorian pub beneath the wonder of the world that is the Stockport viaduct.
It’s a much photographed scene because it tells a story about the grandeur of the industrial north and says: this was once a big country.
We’ve been walking past The Crown for some years, on our way from the station to a friend’s house in the suburbs, but never had the chance to visit. Not least because it closed early in 2025 after a long period of uncertainty over its future.
When it reopened last year under the stewardship of the people behind The Petersgate Tap, we became determined to visit, and we planned our most recent trip so that there would be time for us to do so.
On Friday afternoon, we found it quiet but by no means dead.
The night before there had been a celebration and the remains of a tray of sandwiches was on the counter, with a regular doing his best to help with their disposal: “Go on, have a couple more, I’m sick of the sight of them…”
In the far corners of the pub, couples and small groups were chatting. And a group of vertical drinkers at the bar was debating the merits of various beers, including Bass.
Bass is the pub’s regular beer and, according to a social media post from earlier in the year, they sell around 5 casks of it every week. The pint we were served was absolutely exemplary. As in, it looked like something from the golden age of beer advertising, glowing beneath a gently undulating sparkled head of foam. It tasted fresh, a little spicy, and… well, like a Victorian pub beneath a Victorian viaduct.
We’re always excited to encounter Fyne Ales Jarl and, again, this was close to the perfect specimen.
Between the eight great and/or interesting cask ales, and the keg beers, and the bottled beers, we can’t imagine struggling to find something to drink.
What’s really exciting about the pub, though, is that it feels so alive. We didn’t know it during its years of decline but it feels to us as if sensible, sensitive choices have been made. Clutter has been reduced – it’s pretty minimalistic – and what decoration there is reinforces the sense of history. Dark red. Dark green. Leather. Wood. Stained glass. Brass. What more do you want?
There are several rooms, or partitioned spaces, which enable that magical feeling the best pubs give you of privacy without loneliness. There’s always someone visible through a gap or a pane of glass; there’s always a conversation going on just around the corner.
On our second brief visit on Sunday afternoon we found groups of younger drinkers on their way home from Stockport Pride, trailing rainbow flags; and gathered we’d just missed some rowdy pub crawlers:
“All that effing and jeffing!”
“I did have to say to them, come on lads, it is Sunday afternoon.”
It was beers from Ossett and Thornbridge for us this time, with several other interesting candidates on the board that we didn’t have time to try before our direct train back to Bristol.
We don’t hesitate to suggest that this is one of the country’s great pubs. And with the magical Magnet about a ten-minute walk away, Stockport is now almost overloaded with them.
One other thing we noticed: the local Campaign for Real Ale magazine Opening Times seemed to be full of reports of openings and reopenings, rather than of closures and collapse. Like the pale and hoppy ale at The Crown, we found this distinctly refreshing.
