And the Devonshire in Sticklepath might just be the best pub in Devon. Take a close look and you’ll see a fair few classics just off the A38 zooming over Dartmoor so that’s quite a claim.
US Dave had recommended the Globe in Chagford, and I WILL get there soon, but somehow I had to tick Sticklepath and try (and fail) to get blog title out of it.
The wall opposite the Devonshire contains the flags of countries whose languages are spoken in Devon.
Wiki tells me the village “gives its name to one of the most important geological faults in south-west England, thought to have originated during the Tertiary period and known variously as the Sticklepath Fault, Sticklepath Fault Zone, Lustleigh-Sticklepath Fault or Sticklepath-Lustleigh Fault“.
The Devonshire itself is (I presume) named after this Hammer.
I’d tried to confirm opening hours on Twitter and Facebook but with no joy. Would we be met by a greeter ?
Er, no, we were met by a deserted pub. But what a pub !
No-one about. At 5pm on a Saturday.
I am USELESS at going “Hulloah there” to attract attention or asking for the bill, which is why I detest table service.
Mrs RM went to the Ladies, I went in search of life. Had the door just be left unlocked by accident like that time in Patrick’s ?
Finally I saw the bell, and meekly rang it.
Mrs RM had a go, only marginally less pathetically.
TEN minutes we stood there.
“I’m not leaving” I said, contemplating pouring myself a pint of Dartmoor.
And then, there was rustling in the back room.
A lovely lady I will not dare to put an age on entered, and we took our seats on the table with a Christmas tablecloth. Of course.
“Sorry to keep you. I was upstairs“. I sense the locals help themselves.
Well, the next half hour was one of the best 30 minutes of my pubbing life in the company of a widow who refused to let the challenges of 2020 get her down.
Our hero was simply the most intelligent company all year, and I met Duncan in the summer.
Over a half of Rich’s cider from the barrel (£1.60) and ginger beer (also £1.60) we talked Marks & Spencer, the merits of Launceston, local bus services, Norwegian Salmon fishing, and, you know, LIFE.
I urge you to go, even if the temporary lack of cask is an, ahem, GBG issue.
If she’s doing food, eat it.
And don’t forget to visit the Gents…