GAVIN AITCHISON laments the long, lost pubs of York.

SORRY about this. I do usually try to be cheery in this column but right now, it’s not very easy. You see, all the talk in York’s beer scene at the moment seems to be of closures and demolitions.

First, the White Rose in Cornlands Road was flattened to make way for bungalows.

Then it was announced that The Locomotive in Holgate could go the same way. Last weekend, it emerged that The Turf Tavern in Dringhouses could also be knocked down, once again to be replaced by housing – and that was before today’s news about the Ackhorne, Tap & Spile and Golden Fleece.

The news about the Turf was a particular shock, and seems to have come as a real blow to the community around there.

While the White Rose and Loco were patently struggling, the Turf Tavern seems to have been thriving in recent times, with frequent live music, a raft of events, and a pretty strong bunch of regulars.

Ominously though, it’s hard to see much of a way back for the place. Whereas other pubs – The Phoenix, for instance – have come back from the brink, the circumstances here are very different.

The owner evidently wants to sell the building to a developer with no interest in its current use. The rug is basically being pulled out from beneath the pub’s feet, which is a tragedy for its staff and regulars and indeed for the next generation of local residents, who will be left with nowhere to go for a sociable pint.

Maybe I’m more sentimental than your average punter when it comes to these things, but I always find it upsetting when a pub calls time after many decades of happy trade. It’s like when a film legend from yesteryear passes away – even if they have become old and frail in recent years, you know that once upon a time they were an absolute star, and their death seems hugely poignant.

When you look carefully, York is full of pubs that once were, but are no more – long-dead locals survived only by the shells of their former selves.

Walmgate is a prime example. 100 years ago, there were 34 pubs between Walmgate Bar and the top of Fossgate, and while many were flattened, others have simply been converted ad infinitum.

The Old Malt Shovel at Number 12 is now a shop. The Full Moon is now a craft studio, following a brief stint as a letting agent. The Lord Nelson has recently been a charity office, but is now empty. And at Number 56 and 58 stands my own favourite, the old Prince of Wales. The telltale heraldic feathers are still visible on the windows and facade but nowadays it’s a Polish deli – rather satisfyingly, serving beer on tap once again, in the form of the native brew Zywiec.

Over in Goodramgate, just beside Monk Bar, a sign for an old Red Lion is faintly visible high on the wall above the art shop, while if you stand on Ouse Bridge and look just beyond the King’s Arms, you can still make out the sign for the Ship Inn, which closed and became a restaurant in the mid-1970s.

All mere ghosts today of the hubs they once were but at least they’re still standing.

No such dignity for those that are flattened. Just the faint tinkle of memories.