Sunday, 13 October 2024

Ticking a few more Donnington pubs, plus others, by bike - Pt. 2

Continuing the narrative surrounding a cycling holiday in the Cotswolds, 40 years ago, you left the previous Mrs PBT’s and I sheltering in our tent, away from the cold north wind. We were waiting for the pubs to reopen because, unlike in these more enlightened times, licensed premises were forced, by law, to close each afternoon, for a two-and-a-half-hour period. This bizarre practice was a hangover from the Defence of the Realm Act (DoRA), drawn up at the height of the First World War, to maintain the supply of munitions, by preventing workers spending all day in the pub. Nearly 70 years later, this restrictive piece of wartime legislation (in slightly amended form), was still on the statute book, before finally being repealed, piecemeal, in 1988.

That evening, it was back to visiting Donnington pubs but, in view of the weather we took the car, and drove to the picturesque village of Broadwell, and the charming, but rather compact Fox Inn. The Fox won my accolade as the best Donnington pub of the trip, thus far, and the chicken casserole we enjoyed that evening still remains in my memory as amongst the best I’ve enjoyed in decades of pub going. Later that evening we moved on to the Golden Ball at Lower Swell, another fine old, stone-built Cotswold inn. We sat in the bar writing out postcards – back in the day when people still did such things, whilst enjoying the XXX Mild.  

The following morning, we decided to move on. It had rained heavily during the night and wasn't all that better come day break. We packed up the car and headed towards the village of Broadway, where a campsite had been recommended by some friends, back in Maidstone. The road took us down the edge of the steep Cotswold escarpment, into the village itself, rewarding us with one of the most spectacular views imaginable, furthermore, despite Broadway appearing to be awash with tourists it looked absolutely charming.

What we saw was sufficient to dispel any doubts we might have had about the village being a bit of a tourist trap - a view that had initially made us reluctant to base ourselves there. The campsite too turned out to be every bit as good as our friends had suggested, and after roughing it at the previous site, the hot showers, shaving points and well-stocked camp shop were most welcome! What's more the sun was shining again by the time we had finished pitching the tent!

That lunchtime we part cycled, and part pushed our bikes to the top of the Cotswold escarpment. Our destination was the Snowshill Arms, situated in the hamlet of the same name. This was the fifth Donnington pub on our list, and very nice it was too. From the Snowshill Arms, we cycled along the edge of the Cotswold escarpment to Broadway Tower, a 19th century folly. Inside the tower was an exhibition dedicated to the work of William Morris, whilst from the top there was a spectacular view right across the Vale of Evesham. Cycling back down the steep Fish Hill was exhilarating, if a little hair-raising, and that evening there were two more Donnington pubs to visit. The first was the Mount Inn, at Stanton, from where some further spectacular views were obtained, but as the pub could best be described as “upmarket”, with food prices to match, we decided to move on to the nearby New Inn, at Willersey. This was much more to our liking, but unfortunately for one reason or another, turned out to be the last Donnington house we visited on that particular holiday.

The following day we decided to cast the net further afield and ended up cycling to the picturesque town of Tewksbury. It was a pleasant enough town, and after enjoying some excellent Wadworth Devizes Bitter, along with fish and chips, in the ancient and unspoilt Berkeley Arms, a look round the town’s ancient abbey church was in order. Before leaving Tewksbury, we stopped off at the Britannia, a fairly basic local on the outskirts of the town. The Davenports Bitter there was superb, in fact it was so good that I had to have another pint just to make certain!

The ride back was via Bredon Hill, a well-known local landmark. It was quite hard going, but a most enjoyable ride, nevertheless.  I can still recall the ride, skirting the famous hill, and passing through the village of Bredon. Later that year I read a book, that I picked up in a charity shop, written by Fred Archer, a local lad who had lived and worked in Bredon, between the wars. "The Distant Scene" provided a fascinating look back at rural life during the 1920’s & 30’s, with Bredon and the surrounding area, featured prominently in the book. It was especially interesting reading about an area we had recently visited, described through the eyes of someone who had been born and bred there.

Roger Davies / The Snowshill Arms
That night, a car ride was in order, following the day's exertions. My diary recalls that we visited the Butchers Arms at Mickleton, a sprawling village to the north of Chipping Camden. The diary also records that it was there that I enjoyed Flowers Bitter and Original for the first time. These two beers, which became very common in the south-east, were only available at the time from the former West Country Brewery in Cheltenham (long closed by our old friends, Whitbread!)

The next day was Thursday and was to be the last spent in the Cotswolds. We had arranged to visit some friends in Lincoln for the weekend, so would be spending the following day travelling. To make the most of our final day, we arose early and cycled into Evesham for a brief look round, and also to visit the bank. From Evesham, we cycled on to the tiny village of Bretforton, where there was a particularly special pub that I wanted to visit. The pub in question was the world famous Fleece Inn, a totally unspoilt classic pub that had been in the same family for over 400 years. When the last incumbent landlady died, she bequeathed the pub to the National Trust. They in turn had asked CAMRA's pub-owning off-shoot, CAMRA Real Ale Investments, to run the place on their behalf.

The Fleece was everything that I expected, and a lot more besides. To say that it was unspoilt would be an understatement, although to say it was caught in a time warp would be nearer the truth. The sense of continuity that only comes when items such as furniture, crockery etc. have been handed down from generation to generation gave it an air that was truly historic, as opposed to the fake sense of history so beloved by modern day pub designers. The Fleece remains in the hands of the National Trust (no doubt with NT prices!) and retains its “highly recommended” status from CAMRA.

My notes that day, record the following beers sampled: Marstons Capital - a light mild that was discontinued some years afterwards; Highgate Mild, plus Hook Norton Bitter. A Stilton Ploughman’s helped to soak up the beer, before cycling on to the small, picturesque town of Chipping Campden, high up in the Cotswold Hills. The route back was via Snowshill, which afforded one last look at the view from the edge of the Cotswold escarpment, before departing the following day.

That evening, by way of a change, we visited the Plough at Elmley Castle. The original plan had been to have a drink in the Queen Elizabeth, in the village of the same name, but found, much to our disappointment, that it was shut. The Plough was a cider house that brewed its own cider, and the locals were not very appreciative to strangers, and the welcome we received both from them, and from the landlady, was far from friendly. We were even charged a deposit on the glasses! Needless to say, we didn't stay long, taking our halves of very pale coloured cider outside to drink. It wasn't a terribly good end to the holiday in the Cotswolds but then you can't win them all!

Looking back, our plan of cycling round all the Donnington pubs was rather ambitious, and in the end, we only managed to visit 8 out of 17. This total was crammed into just five and a half days, and combined with the terrain, plus the restriction of afternoon closing, it wasn't bad going either. It would have been far more sensible to allow a fortnight for such a feat, but there were other holidays to be had, and other places to visit.  

Footnote: as with the previous post, the same restrictions apply, with “free to use” images from the net, along with a few found on brewery websites – surely the breweries concerned won’t mind a bit of free publicity. Again, if the owner of any of the images reproduced on this post, has any objections to their use, please get in touch and I will take them down, straight away.  

 

4 comments:

Stafford Paul said...

DORA was said "to maintain the supply of munitions, by preventing workers spending all day in the pub" but drunkenness was a result of the munitions workers being in inadequate temporary accommodation. Properly looking after its employees could have avoided the government bringing in such draconian measures.
We stayed in the Golden Ball at Lower Swell during July 1993.

Paul Bailey said...

Whatever the reasons for its introduction, why did it take over 70 years for the restrictions on pub opening times, to be abolished?

Stafford Paul said...

Maybe because we all so liked the excitement of "early doors" and "lates" ?

Paul Bailey said...

"Life beginning anew" as one correspondent said, back in the day when pubs re-opened each evening, after the compulsory, daily afternoon closure.