
Oooh, a very Somerset place name, as I set up camp in Exmoor for a concerted attempt to finish that GBG county for the first time.

£32.30 a night B & B in the White Horse in Washford, which I can assure you is an all-time bargain. If they can open branches across Devon and drive me round pubs I will rate them higher than Ben Stokes on Ratebeer.



Slightly out of sequence, here’s the breakfast part of the deal.

Great breakfast, but why oh why do people insist on substitutions ?
A real gem, and I know I’d been here for a GBG tick in 2014 with three lads unimpressed by my lunch stop on the way to Minehead.
Then I’d scored a half of Butcombe 2.5 and presumably chucked a half away. Now I had the luxury of a pint of Otter in a gorgeous pub garden by the babbling stream.

Bliss.
You can see how good this pint was.

Except it wasn’t, quite. It was fine, like last time (NBSS 2.5), and perhaps that’s why it’s not in the GBG. Everyone was drinking Thatchers.
It just shows. Something.
So I set off on the 5 mile round trip to a pub that was in the GBG.

All roads lead to Beggearn Huish, and take you through Farmer Giles’s back yard.

Roadwater is a long, straggling Exmoor village with plenty of, er, potential.


Loads of one pub villages in Exford, so they need to cater for everyone.


Yes, young, old and middling, all eating chicken sizzlers. And obscuring Bass mirrors.

I’d tell you the brewery mirrors were the highlight, but that would make me seem sad.

And it would be a lie. The overriding memory was an overpowering smell of detergent in the Gents, and a better than good pint of Exmoor (NBSS 3+), served by a jovial Landlord.

As with the walk there, on the walk back I passed not a soul.
We really don’t need to know about your Farmer Giles problems – an obvious side effect of visiting GBBF. Talking of which, that pub signage is presumably commemorating the slicing of Simon’s Sausage?
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That’s quite enough from you 😉
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Love that door in the “good grief” photo, especially the wild asymmetry of it; almost looks as if it dated from biblical times!
Sorry to go off on a tangent here, but the word “Huish” will forever remind me of Huish Episcopi. Not that I’ve ever been there, but in Ian Marchant’s book “The Longest Crawl,” he makes humorous use of the fact that lots of different people told him, “You must go to Eli’s in Huish Episcopi.” And happily he is very pleased with the place (officially called the Rose & Crown) when he finally gets there. Have you ever heard of it, or been there? It looms large in my imagination.
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Yes, it is a door from Damascus in AD 43, the year Saul was converted to cask.
Huish Episcopi is our most famous Huish. I did go, 15 years ago. My only recollection is of locals drinking orange scrumpy. I expect these days they’re all drinking orange scrumpy.
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Ha! Sounds like a nice place to visit if you happen to be nearby, but maybe not worth going miles out of your way for?
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You know what, Mark? I just don’t know. Still in the same family, and still selling good beers, apparently.
If I’m in the area I’ll pop in.
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“the year Saul was converted to cask.”
Was that the year his well ran dry?
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👌 How we’ve missed you, and not just for the blog views.
I get 1 Piper crisp for every 100 views, you know.
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“THE ROAD TO BEGGEARN HUISH”
Did you sneeze whilst typing that?
“and drive me round pubs”
You’ll have to take on the demeanour of Si for that to happen.
“Pub in there somewhere”
You sure that’s not the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?
“Proper food”
Is it legal to serve Otter over there? Or is it like ‘seal’ over here, where we turn a blind eye (the one hit with a club).
“Better than that Premier Inn rubbish Si lives off”
I thought Si lived on smuggled in food and the occasional M&S offerings?
“Scummy head”
Your focus is off. 😉
“It just shows. Something.”
I think Mudgie’s latest post has something to say about that. 🙂
“So I set off on the 5 mile round trip to a pub that was in the GBG.”
After seeing ‘Clitsome Fm’ I’m going to stop right there.
“Good grief”
Yes, well… Roadwater. They must get flooded every year!
“Future micropub”
Too many ways to get in.
“Great sign”
That looks like a bloody Frenchman! (or a Hussar)
“SIT DOWN !!!!”
She is sitting down. Sheesh.
“Still can’t pronounce Wiveliscombe”
For some reason my brain says ‘Weevil is come’. Is there a lot of cotton in Somerset?
“Jug alert”
My darling wife has the sheets pulled up to her chin sadly.
Cheers!
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Would benefit from an M&B makeover into a sizzling pub I reckon
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