“What cities do you want to visit ?” asks Word Press, as I start this post. Thanks for asking. Berne, since you ask. Easily pleased.
7th November 2022.
Mrs RM has got a local letting agency (1066 holidays) to manage our caravan when we’re not using it, and we popped down to Rye Harbour to sort out paperwork, buy matching tea towels, and drink bottled 1698 in the Sheps pub in the twilight.
Mrs RM appreciates the super fast Wi-Fi here, which meant she could waste time solving IT problems in Eindhoven while I did a proper job pretending to catch-up on the blog and visiting new pubs.
I’m still not sure whether it’s worth even attempting a second completion of the GBG, but the 2023 Guide has some fantastic new entries.
The Rother Valley between Rye and Hastings is gorgeous, particularly for folk who like history.
Frankly, I HATE history, which is why you never get any FACTS and DATES in these posts, but the White Dog in Ewhurst Green is a remarkably pretty pub that somehow escapes visitors by being not featured in the Telegraph Travel Supplement.
There must be 228 villages that look a bit like this in East Sussex; Mrs RM’s granny lived in Herstmonceux and knows the area better than I do, which is always annoying as blokes should always know more than their wives about UK geography.
I arrived at the White Dog well after lunch, and a ticker always fears a closed door at 14:45 on a Monday.
But it was pretty packed with village life, a rare 2022 spot to enjoy an afternoon beer.
Dogs block your every move around the flagstones, but the welcome is lovely. Except the barperson assumes the bloke behind my shoulder leaning over is with me, and asks him what he wants before taking for my Rother Valley. We all laughed.
All the locals sit round the bar comparing legal problems, so I take the red Chesterfield by the fire and immediately regret it, but it’s too late.
Better warm than cold, I guess, but it’s too low down.
Never mind, the beer (top) has that scummy head I go on about because I don’t use words like “robust” or “earthy”, a solid 3.5.
It’s almost Winter, I guess, and the crackle of the fire and aimless banter overpowers the Dire Straits and Police soundtrack.
Plenty for BRAPA to digest, with an engaging barmaid able to debate any subject under the sun with the Old Boys at the bar. I guess that’s why they come each day and keep the pub open. Them and the youngsters drinking lager on the bench outside. Does anyone work round here ?
Technically, you can walk here from Bodiam Castle’s station. I bet no-one does.