retiredmartin

October 2026. Rye. East Sussex.

The six minute bus ride from Rye Harbour into town costs a curious £2.90, which is just the level at which you’ll consider striding hobbling along the footpath instead, taking in the bucolic views of the oil refinery.

There’s a very pretty walk through the nature reserve into Rye, but an outbreak of avian botulism has put paid to that for now. Expect to see a “Avian Botulism” gose at Sheffield Beer Fest this week.

I’m in town for supermarket essentials like cherry almond croissants, but instead follow the tourists up Mermaid Street towards its eponymous 1420 inn.

I took that photo 4 years ago; you won’t be able to get a shot without French children and puffing gentlefolk in it these days.

But, nipping through the throng of curious tourists at noon opening I do get a seat in the Mermaid‘s public bar, one of the great pub rooms.

The custom in the bar is almost exclusively well-heeled septuagenarian couples, and I feel a little self-conscious about occupying a table for two near the fire.

But, like Rye itself, the Mermaid isn’t fussy or pretentious, despite a reputation to match Cambridge’s Eagle or Ye Olde Trip to Jersualem.

A small queue of folk clutching menus is heading vertically away from the bar, visibly irritating the customers sitting closest to the pumps. Hilariously, the barman looks at the line and says “Right, who’s next ?“.

I’m standing at the side of the bar, waiting my turn to order a pint of Harvey’s.

You may be surprised at the pricing.

A fiver for a Very Good foamy pint of Sussex in a smart hotel (£190 a night); as good as you’ll get round here.

All around me folk are whispering, as if not to wake up ghosts, but the terrific barman (who I shall call Patrick) is regaling the other lone customer with tales of Kentish life, and urging him to try the Pig & Porter house beer.

I can never resist a recommendation, and that Mermaid Ale is another chewy wonder.

Note the No Nonsense scratchings. In many ways the Mermaid is a no-nonsense tourist pub, quality fish and chips served without fuss by cheery staff and a soundtrack of “Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough” and “Lean On Me“.

Talking of which, our hero barman leaves his station to help an even older group of ladies reach the restaurant via the bar. “Lean on me, love, take the handrail” he says.

I’ve had two pints and a bag of scratchings in half an hour, so take my opinion with caution, but this suddenly feels like a really great pub.