As you’ll know, the sun shines on the righteous, and so it was that the mere presence of Mrs RM* as a passenger (albeit tapping away on I-Phone and smirking at Trump videos) provided a gorgeous Autumnal backdrop to our second stop down in Devon.
This lovely spot is Littlehempton, a mile north of terrible Totnes with its trust-fund tossers and lack of manners.
Lovely contours on the OS extract,
and on the Tally Ho, including those rare steps which I assumed were for mounting and dismounting your horse but I now have my doubts about that.
We entered, on the dot of 5pm opening, to silence.
You get the idea. Looks very upmarket dining, doesn’t it ?
But from a makeshift garden came the unmistakeable sound of “bloke”.
Mrs RM went to investigate, and came back with a Landlady.
“Sorry, we don’t get many visitors this early. The locals all drink (smoke) outside“.
We did the ablutions, the check-in, and finally the comic bit where despite being asked to sit at Table A I sit at Table B.
“Don’t sit there it’s broken !”
“He’s useless !” said Mrs RM, forming an unlikely alliance with a Landlady she’d been irritated at only a minute earlier.
I sought comfort with Felix the Fox.
Another half (very good Pandit from down the road) and J20 and nuts stop, but it all helps to save pubs, and if you can’t do it then we’ll have to.
Mind you, the half dozen smokers outdoors were putting back the Dartmoor Legend quick enough to save 20 village boozers.
*That’s a joke. It’s ME. I’m the righteous one. Just like Jose.