Poachers Pocket

Today I walked to the Metro Centre and passed this pub, The Poachers Pocket.  Although it is not far from where I live, it is years since I have been in it.  However, many years ago it played a big part of my life.

It used to be called The Crowley (named after Sir Ambrose Crowley who owned an iron works in Swalwell in the early 1700's) until the 1990's when it changed it's name to The Poachers Pocket.

Opposite The Crowley there is a large cemetery where my grandad is buried.  When I was a little girl in the late 1950's we (my mam, grandma, sister and I) used to take flowers to the grave just about every Sunday.  If the weather was nice, for a treat, we would go and sit outside of The Crowley and have a glass of lemonade.  My sister and I were very impressed with this.  Somehow or other I don't think today's kids would be.

It is also the place where I held my 21st birthday party and I used to go to a folk club there in the early 1970's.   I've heard the food is pretty good so I think I'll have to have a trip there sometime soon.  I'm sure it will stir up a few more memories.