
Back in July, deep in the heart of the rush to Guide completion, I was wasting time and effort visiting NON-GBG pubs, like an unprofessional ticker.
It’s Mrs RM’s fault. She insisted we explore the joys of Winchelsea, a mini-Rye about which I and the GBG know nothing.


The road to Winchelsea along the coast looks like a scene from Breaking Bad,

and for an hour you barely pass a soul, with only pebbles, scrubland,

and a deserted lifeboat station for company.

We didn’t actually reach Winchelsea itself, falling half a mile short at the beachy bit whose caravan parks presumably provide the custom for the enigmatic Pub 31.

“Haunted by the ghost of a barmaid murdered there” says What Pub, attempting and failing to create a bit of mystique around a modern estate pub.

Pub 31 doesn’t need mystique. EVERYTHING you need is on the surface. Singlet bloke, pool cue lass asks for change, four (4) generations of a family with proud new dad changing a nappy thrown by the mum.

It’s not a posh Sussex dining pub, or the cask heaven of the Ypres Castle, for sure.
But it has magic, and when Mrs RM says “SEE !!! The best pubs are outside that beer guide that rules your life” (or similar) I have to agree.
There are pubs like this, mainly near Chorley,

But there’s more going on here than even Coppull could keep up with. “Lucille” follows “Miss You Like Crazy“, “2 pints of Stella please” follows a massive order for shots. Some folk are drinking almost as fast as Mrs RM, who a bit in awe.
The Old Speckled Hen is OK, the Ice Breaker a surprising tasty bit of GK keg.
It’s getting darker, so I nip next door for chips and (more) calamari. Everyone is eating chips on the outside tables,

so we join them. I’ll be honest, the calamari are a let-down, but life’s like that.

The walk back “home” is magical.

As I’ve said before, a nice part of the world, and somewhere we have holidayed a few times, when Matthew was younger and we had a dog.
Although there’s not much to see in Winchlesea itself, the town has a an interesting history.
What you see today is the “new” town, chartered by King Edward I and planned on a grid-layout. The town was built on the cliffs overlooking Romney Marsh, following the complete destruction of Old Winchelsea – washed away in the great storm of 1287.
The town was reputed to have had 700 houses, two churches and over 50 inns and taverns – enough to keep an inveterate ticker like yourself busy, for at least two or three days!
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Now that is a great pub. Looks horrendous from the outside, but very pubby on a good day within. I assume it is quite dead in winter though.
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All the Walter White related mentions, I’m beginning to wonder what that new building in the back garden is going to be used for……
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I’m setting up a micro brewery, using Sheffield Hatter’s recipes
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Pint of Wards please.
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Pint of “Cycle There Whatever The Weather”, please.
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We go to Winchelsea Beach quite often and I like it’s low key charm. Camber feels more rough but that might be the holiday camps. Winchelsea Town is worth a wander and the complete opposite to Rye which is also worth wandering. The museum is interesting and so is the church. The area’s charm is the feeling of remoteness due to the fairly poor transport links.
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I’ll look at Winchelsea properly next time I’m down there, Charlie.
You’re right about the remoteness adding to the charm; Winchelsea Station is a fair distance from the town.
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