January 2026. Three Oaks. East Sussex.
Mrs RM has been manically “improving” her blog, waiting for the next parental crisis. She’s a perfectionist; I guess that why she chose me to marry.
Monday saw me in need of fresh air and a pub after a day of relentless drizzle in Rye Harbour, so I jogged (bad idea) to Rye station to catch the hourly train to Three Oaks 12 minutes away.
“Move to the front carriage” shouts the guard; the second stop our from Rye has a small platform barely big enough to have a surreptitious wee.
It does house a mural commemorating mushrooms,
and a rotting tree with its own fungi (or whatever).
Apart from our eponymous pub, there’s not much else to Three Oaks, seemingly a hamlet built to serve a railway station rather than vice versa, with the ancient church a mile away in Guestling.
Has this phone box been converted into climbing apparatus.
We’d driven past the pub the day before and thought “Oooh“,
interesting but a few too many signs ?
Living well outside a Good Beer Guide that can’t even accommodate the Ypres Castle, the Three Oaks is a must.
If only for a collection of tat to rival the Yew Tree in Cauldon.
I’m surprised to see a village pub even open at all on Mondays these days. This one is open all hours, with half a dozen drinkers engaged in conversation about Linda Lusardi.
Like nearly every pub in East Sussex, it’s Harvey’s plus two.
Sorry, Kent Prohibition, but I’m on a bit of a Sussex Best roll at the moment, and this will be an unexpected NBSS 4. Cool and rich, a rival for any pint in Lewes I reckon.
It’s £5.20, fair enough; I hand over a fiver and 20p and the barmaid gives the Old Boy the fiver she owed him. It’s how the world goes round.
It’s a little marvel of a pub,
my only regret is that I’m perched round the corner and a bit “out of the action”.
Mind you, the “robust” banter (almost entirely female driven) may have been too much for my sensitive tastes.
I must take Mrs RM back. She’ll love it.
retiredmartin 
If a may adopt a train nerd persona for a moment Three Oaks is the third stop from Rye if you include the rarely used Doleham.
The Shippea hill of the South East.
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Yes we passed Doleham but didn’t stop, so strictly Three Oaks was my second stop, Alan. Finding a pub from Doleham would be a challenge !
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I visited Shippea Hill station (just up the road from Waterbeach) with Dad a few years back. I think he delivered lettuce near there. It’s very dull.
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You can dip into being a train nerd anytime here, AFAIC, Alan. 🚆
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Don`t get me started on Bogies.
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I was once on one of those rare trains that stopped at Shippea Hill and the Guard announcing it added that it had neither ship nor hill.
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This is the post for the train nerd.
https://onesmallbag.com/chisinau-to-bucharest-sleeper-train/
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Oh yes, I remember those “old-school “drop toilets”, the kind where everything exits directly onto the tracks”, so much more hygienic that filth being carried on the train for the remainder of the day.
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At least the tat collection seems to avoid the dreaded Golliwogs.
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Coincidentally, late yesterday afternoon I was discussing that railway line before your arrival on Widnes railway station with the funeral attendee returning to Ashford.
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And I was discussing it with him just before you arrived from the Crown !
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It must be a tedious place if kids are taking to climbing the phone box for entertainment. Interesting looking pub though.
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I don’t think children are allowed in Three Oaks, it was the basis for Vulgaria in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
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Lana, children still climb trees where I live – better than being sat in front of a television I always think.
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Trees are way more interesting to climb than phone boxes surely!
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Yes indeed, having just left home a few months ago before 9am for the railway station I noticed some bags beside a tree and on passing it noticed secondary schoolgirls sat on its branches just above head height !
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“She’s a perfectionist; I guess that why she chose me to marry.”
Indeed; because you are her ultimate project to continually try and perfect.
“so I jogged (bad idea) to Rye station ”
(nods head sagely)
“and a rotting tree with its own fungi (or whatever).”
Life imitates art?
“Has this phone box been converted into climbing apparatus.”
I think they’re peep holes to view god knows what on the inside.
“interesting but a few too many signs ?”
They’re making sure you know that it’s THE Three Oaks, accept no substitutions!
“If only for a collection of tat to rival the Yew Tree in Cauldon.”
Judging by the size, I’d hazard a guess they were what folk would peep through the holes on the phone box to look at.
“Like nearly every pub in East Sussex, it’s Harvey’s plus two.”
Phew! They managed to have one of the rotating beers with the word ‘oaks’ in it. 😁
“It’s a little marvel of a pub,”
(looks down)
Er,yes?
“Mind you, the “robust” banter (almost entirely female driven) may have been too much for my sensitive tastes.”
After much debate I’ve decided to give that a (slow golf clap).
“I must take Mrs RM back. She’ll love it.”
Too right mate!
Cheers
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““It’s a little marvel of a pub”. You have to be there, completely surrounded by tat, an individual pic doesn’t do it justice.
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Fair point. 😎
I can’t wait till we all have 3-D glasses with some sort of version of Google Maps that will show us anything, anywhere in the world. 😁
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But I can direct you anywhere via pubs ;-0
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“But I can direct you anywhere via pubs ;-0”
😎👍
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