Not much to say about the Rivers Arms at Cheselbourne, bar the fact it was OPEN on a Monday in September, a period when most pubs move smoothly to “winter hours“.
In fact, I’d been surprised to see how many pubs shut up shop a week before on the sunniest Bank Holiday Monday in living memory.
So well done Rivers Arms, even if you were the most dining of dining pubs.
I’m tempted to say you can trust a pub with an Old Speckled Hen clock, but I doubt even Mark C would fall for that.
The sign said “OPEN”, the door ajar, but no-one was about to serve me.
A chap appeared, looked shocked at my appearance (Mrs RM will sympathise), and called for female assistance (Mrs RM will sympathise).
“Can I HELP you”. “Can I have a beer please ?” . etc etc etc etc etc
It seemed that a gurgling ice machine was distracting their attention from selling beer. Luckily, it wasn’t me to blame for the gurgling.
I had a minute to assess the beer choice and realised it was Russian Roulette.
I have no idea, but I think they’re brewed in the Cerne Abbas Giant’s jockstrap; it certainly tasted like it.
BUT. The couple in charge were charming and chatty, berating the media for scaring people away from pubs, and anyone who blames the media is OK with me. And beer brewed in the Cerne Abbas Giant’s jockstrap isn’t bad.
The nice lady encouraged me to see the upstairs dining area, busy all summer apparently, and I have to tell you it’s astonishing, more library than restaurant.
Yes, if you’ve ever wanted to borrow the Lonely Planet Guide to Mexico while munching Veggie Haggis and staring across to Piddlehinton, this is the place for you.