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repealed, piecemeal, in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:
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.
Whatever the reasons for its introduction, why did it take over 70 years for the restrictions on pub opening times, to be abolished?
Maybe because we all so liked the excitement of "early doors" and "lates" ?
"Life beginning anew" as one correspondent said, back in the day when pubs re-opened each evening, after the compulsory, daily afternoon closure.
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