Not only was I closing in on Devon, but July would also see the end of Somerset in sight. Nice county, from coast to the levels to the scruffy market towns, and I used the Best Western three (3) times in 3 weeks. They’ve named the bridal suite after me.

You’ll have forgotten, but a fortnight earlier I’d been thwarted at homebrew pub in Seavington St Michael which had decided the only place to publicise their new, shorter opening hours was by a sign on their front door. Same principle as Martin Luther, I guess; us Martins aren’t IT literate.

Now, that pub sign isn’t a good start, but I often find I warm to a pub that I had to visit twice.

Not so the Volunteers, I’m afraid.

Nice bookshelf, flagstone floors, piano, hanging tankards…

Even a comprehensive price list like The Tand wants to see.

But the beer was undrinkable homebrew of Donnington* standard. And you know me, I drink ANYTHING. And it had been pulled through for about five (5) minutes, so freshness wasn’t the issue. Do homebrewers taste their own beer ? To be honest, well-kept slop should probably score 3.5, shouldn’t it ?

At half-past six on a Friday night in July, I was the only customers, too. What can I say. Nothing.

*Reminds me, I must do those Donnington pubs. You want me to suffer.


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