I loved the next pub.
Classic setting in the shadow of
Ashley Alton Barnes White Horse,
20 minutes bus ride from Devizes,
tucked away in a village comprised entirely of thatched cottages,
in a little lane actually called Pub Lane. Yes really.
In a place like this the village pub goes one of two ways.
Full-on gastro with reservations all over the shop, or refuge for quirky retirees using it as their second front room.
Well done, King’s Arms, you chose right.
Unfussy as an art form.
Yes, I could have had butternut squash risotto, but there was no “Are you dining” or “Is that all“.
At one table an Old Boy was cashing up the takings, either for the pub or the Kangaroo Air Force Ventilator fan club.
“End of the month, Bert ?”
“End of the flamin’ world”
And then proceded to regale us with a note perfect version of the 1987 R.E.M. classic (12″ version).
The 6X was rich and foamy and resinous, whatever that means. NBSS 3.5+.
A chap in his 70s came back from an attempt to buy drinkable non-alcoholic beers from Sainsbury (Spoiler : there aren’t any) and wrote off the Stokes wonder catch.
“I caught plenty like that. In my youth”
“Yes. Back in the days life was black and white”.
I’m sure they went on like that for hours.
If only all Waddies pubs could be so unpretentious.