Back to mid-July in Devon, and the centrepiece of my 3 days in Plymouth.
Yes, I caught the train back up the line to Teignmouth via Newton Abbot.
20 new GBG pubs within easy reach by train from Plymouth, which is as good a reason as any to live there, I guess.
And you won’t find rooms for £20 a night in Newton, one of the cluster of South Devon towns of which I’m shamefully ignorant.
It’s a typically confused racecourse town (see also : Wincanton, Uttoxeter). I had two attempts to get to the heart of a town of 25,000 whose biggest selling point is that it isn’t the dreadful Totnes.
In parts regal,
and in others lovably scruffy.
I misread that sign on the Cider Bar as “Grumpy”.
Two ticks, the Teign Cellars an 11am opener still celebrating 2017 with “cricket ball size scotch eggs“.
I get a friendly welcome from a landlady still setting up and a bit surprised by 11.120 custom for Moor’s Nor’hop (NBSS 3). But at least she’s open, micropubs.
It reminds me a bit of Chester’s Cellars, even though it’s not a cellar.
I can’t quite warm to the high tables, of course.
Our publican heroine puts all the lights on, puts “My Love” by McCartney Wings on the HiFi, and generally seems like a good (scotch) egg, despite me warning her I’ll be gone in ten as I’ve a train to Teignmouth to catch.
There’ll be people in there with greyhounds eating off skillets when BRAPA gets there in 2023, of course.
Four hours later I was back at Newton, again asking station staff if it was OK to break my journey. I know you can but I’m always scared the barrier will eat my ticket and I’ll be forced to live there forever.
This time I walked the town for you, concluded it’s about as interesting as Newmarket (another racecourse town) but a tiny bit smarter.
The centrepiece of the town is of course the Spoons, which looked lively.
The Taphouse at Tuckers Maltings was my 4pm opener. Sadly nothing to do with Grange Hill.
I’m no fan of brewing ‘istree, but there was a fantastic malty smell that the nice man explained as malt.
I took the art shop while he opened up.
Richard would have loved this place.
I’d been hoping for something crafty like Teignworthy, but had to make do with a trad Manchester beer from this lot.
I thought you had to be approved to sell Cloudwater, and this was certainly a quality bar serving a cool half (NBSS 3.5).
Once again, a gem of a chatty young barman who presumably was just pleased I didn’t ask difficult questions about grist and wort.
It was filling up by 4.15, at which point I realised I’d have to run to catch the train to Totnes. Follow that man.
“Asking station staff if it’s ok to break the journey.”
I do that and share the same fears.
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Who could fail to like a part of England, where places seem to be named after thirteenth-century agricultural implements?
And the pace of life must be leisurely too, if you’ve time to utter Broadwoodwidger, Chaddlehanger, never mind Zeal Monachorum in everyday speech.
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Or Widge, Chad and Mona as they’re known locally.
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I like the thought of the conversations of days gone by.
“Ooh, wurrrr, that looks like a proper job, for ol’ Harry Hawk with his broadwoodwidger, Jethro”
“Hmmm. I don’t know. Maybe I’d better get in Dan Stewer, with his chaddlehanger”
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Nice font? That’s Algerian, dude. It’s pretty much completely reviled in typography circles.
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That’s why I like it.
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Ah. What was the one used on The Bank a few days back?
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Like a lot of these old county towns plonking a giant Asda and ugly modern stuff cocooned inside a busy ring-road doesn’t do a lot for it.
But as you know Ye Olde Cider Bar is one of my all time faves,up there with the Ear Inn.
My old mam was in a nursing home in Teignmouth and as she slowly lost her marbles I’d often wonder off to test out the back-street pubs as Mrs PP-T took up the slack talking to her.
A couple of really nice pubs I recall.
Totnes ? Can’t wait for that report …
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I thought it might be. Shut (or looked it) when I walked past.
Teignmouth next, then the torture of Totnes.
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Shame.
It’s open from 11am every day but does always look shut on account of the main door never being left open because it’s right on the main road and the windows are not designed for anyone to be able to look through them.
Once inside it’s like the Tardis and are really welcoming boozer.
If you’re ever passing I’d recommend a swift half.
Unless BRAPA is driving of course.
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😉
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Almost didn’t recognize Duncan in his disguise…
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Duncan?
That’s the pub ticker destroyer mate.
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I think Tuckers Maltings is history now.
I stayed in the Union Inn seven years ago.
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