Take a stroll down Castle Street in Edgeley and ask about the pub opposite Stockport Railway Station. No two responses will be the same.
That’s because Ye Olde Vic just down the road on Chatham Street is quite divisive. Perched just above the main road in the shadow of a housing block, this traditional boozer isn’t to everyone’s tastes.
A quick straw poll online and some call it a ‘Stockport gem’ while others find it to be a tad ‘scruffy’. One thing everyone can agree on though, is that this a ‘no-frills’ boozer where you can expect quality beers and decent craic.
Earlier this month, The European Bar Guide listed the watering hole in its top 100 bars for 2025. But it’s actually been on the list for several years thanks to its ‘down-to-earth’ atmosphere and ‘fabulous’ real ales.

(Image: Manchester Evening News)
An exposition of the best pubs and bars in Europe, the guide features venues from across a range of European destinations, including Belgium, France, Spain and Germany, amongst others. In total, the guide features 16 UK pubs and bars, including Ye Olde Vic.
Venues are ranked based on the choice of drinks, décor, atmosphere and character, as well amenities and events, and value for money. Securing an impressive 8.9 out of 10 overall, the guide particularly likes its ‘jovial’ atmosphere, ‘’homely’ feel and range of regional cask ales.
If I were to hazard a guess, I reckon I’ve driven past this pub hundreds of times, walked past it a dozen or so for the odd Stockport County match, and thought about it occasionally when deciding where to grab a drink in Stockport.
The guide says it’s not a ‘man’s drinking den’, but perhaps wrongly, I’ve always assumed it was. When it’s come up in conversation with friends or those I speak with from around the area, I’ve met with screwed up faces indicating I give it a miss or suggestions of somewhere closer to the town centre.

(Image: Manchester Evening News)
It’s come through a lot though. In the 1960s there were plans for its demolition to make way for an underground car park – though permission was refused and it never came to fruition. Its former incarnation as Victoria Vaults, a Wilson’s house, came to an end in the late 1970s, but it was subsequently bought and re-opened as a public house in 1983.
According to the Campaign for Real Ale its current tenants are Steve Brannan and Johanne Quinn, and their influence has been instrumental in securing the pub a number of the campaign’s awards as well as a permanent fixture in the Good Beer Guide.
In another twist, several years ago when the owner decided to sell up, a group of locals came together and bought it – making it the first community-owned pub in Stockport. So it’s fair to say it’s been quite the journey, but survived to tell the tale when many other pubs in the region have suffered far worse fates.
I’ve always been curious about this pub. For one, it never looks like it’s open.
Fortunately, on the cold January night that I decided to drag myself away from the warmth of my house, the lights were in fact on.

(Image: Manchester Evening News)
Accompanied by my brother, who like me, has spent a lot of time in the area, but not actually stepped over the threshold, it would be fair to say we didn’t know what to expect.
We all know that feeling of going to a pub you’re not a regular of, the door swinging open, and a group of regulars all turning in unison to suss you out. There’s a cold air, you feel slightly awkward and swiftly sink your pint.
Stepping inside Ye Old Vic, it was quite the opposite. Heads did turn but quickly swung back to animated conversations, collectively working on crossword puzzles, and tuning instruments for the bi-monthly folk night – more on the latter a bit later.
It was a bit like stepping into someone’s front room from decades gone by. Open plan with a side room and a few nooks to peel off to, there’s memorabilia stuck to every last inch of the space. Evidence of its ever-changing range of guest beers meanwhile clings to the ceiling above, with a colourful variety of pump clips from a range of breweries past and present.

(Image: Manchester Evening News)
A bit like the old curiosity shop, there’s bric-a-brac at every turn. Some people online referred to the mementos adorning the walls as ‘tat’, but I guess one man’s tat is another’s gold.
There’s six handpumps dispensing an ever-changing range of guest beers with a focus on micro-breweries. Burton Bridge bitter, Salt’s session IPA and Manchester Union Brewery’s pilsner all represented and displayed on the TV screen. You can also sample different ales in a third-of-a-pint measures for a price of a pint.
With a drink in hand – a Manchester Union pilsner and non-alcoholic Guinness – we nab a spot in front of the roaring fire. On the sideboard just beyond a sign warning us about the use of profanities raises a smile.
“Foul language adds neither force to argument nor dignity to manhood,” it reads.
“In here, one wants to hear it. Thank you.”

(Image: Manchester Evening News)
One of the politest and most poetic requests to refrain from expletives I’ve ever read.
We take in the rest of our surroundings including old maps of the Manchester Ship Canal and Cheadle Heath Brinksway and Edgeley, and rather inexplicably, a skeleton wearing a tuxedo suspended from the ceiling on what most closely resembles a makeshift raft.
And then we listen. Tuning into different conversations spread across the space, one group debates the upcoming United vs Rangers fixture, another tries to solve the crossword, and a man in a kilt talks about an incident on railway that almost scuppered plans for bi-monthly folk night.
Another leaves what we assume is a cello with us and we guard it with our lives – as if somehow we have now also become part of the pub’s bemusing tapestry. A man who looks like a novice just like us slowly sups a pint and flicks through a novel, and then the music starts in the side room. With Burns Night coming up the songs, played by a group decked out in various forms of tartan, play homage to Scotland.

(Image: Manchester Evening News)
We find ourselves quietly humming along and it strikes me that this is all rather strange – but also quite lovely. On the table opposite the bar there’s two slow cookers keeping neeps & tatties warm, while a box of sausage rolls is popped down by one of the regulars. Anyone is welcome to grab a carboard plate.
In this job, as you might expect, you spend a lot of time in pubs and bars, especially new ones trying to reinvent the wheel as it were. Ye Old Vic is quite the antidote.
It feels slightly weathered, and you can only imagine what the walls might say, but that’s its charm. The landlady sneaks a few puffs on her vape whilst keeping an eye on her punters, and there’s a reassuring rhythm about the place.
Very few places have the ability to make you feel welcome in such a short space of time, but this tiny but brilliant pub is just that. Grabbing our coats from the rack and popping our pint glasses on the bar we make our way home, but vow this won’t be the last time we grace one of Stockport’s quirkiest pubs.