retiredmartin

August 2025. Tanworth-in-Arden.

(Not to be confused with Tamworth, which isn’t in Arden.)

A bit of slow tourism for you, a night in rural Warwickshire before Mrs RM’s assault on Brum’s tourist attractions and my own attempt to tick the West Mids.

It must have been a bargain late rate due to cancellation or summat, as the “allegedly” haunted Bell (“On The Green”) seemed remarkably good value for a double in a country pub on an August Saturday.

Clean, well-equipped (i.e. lots of power sockets) rooms with a view to a famous church, and Happy Hour about to start.

Oooh, exciting.

Mrs RM has two large glasses of wine, and takes a table by the bar (top pic), a table onto which a man with open toed shoes puts his feet and then plays cricket commentary at irritating volume.

A bit later she’ll actually tell off a bloke conducting a shouty phone conversation in the sheepskin adorned booth while wait for a seafood platter and chips that rates NSP&CSS 4.

It doesn’t exactly sound pubby, but the whole village seems to be settling in for the night and it’s incredibly unfussy, though you wouldn’t confuse it with the Case is Altered at Haseley Knob.

£3.75 your Happy Hour Wainwright Gold for a solid NBSS 3 pint.

I’ve no idea what Tanworth’s most famous son used to drink; hard to see him as a Brew XI man.

I asked ChatGPT to direct me to Nick Drake‘s graveyard, a touching affair.

What a legacy that man left us.