“With a crooked smile and a heart-shaped face, comes from the West Country where the birds sing bass” Nick Cave

We breakfasted in a much quieter dining room than the morning before. The W.I. had moved on to pastures new. We then gathered ourselves up and caught a cab to the railway station. Soon we were flying through the Dorset countryside flying west towards our ancestral lands. For a moment we had what could almost be considered rain. When I visited in 2019 I landed in grey cloud and light drizzle. Britain then proceeded to be dry for the following month. This trip had been resolutely dry up until today. I was starting to think that the British reputation for rain was severely over blown. Just as something that could be called rain got going we disappeared into a tunnel and out the other side into sunlight.

We pulled into Exeter St Davids and sorted a second train trip to Topsham. Our destination was the famous Bridge Inn. Nestled on the edge of the township The Bridge Inn is a country pub gem. Beer straight from the cask, no bar you just order from the doorway or hatch into the landlady’s parlour. The same family have had it since 1897 with the pub being handed from mother to daughter. It was also visited by the Queen in 1998.
Today I was to meet a group no less illustrious in the wee lounge room at the front of the pub. Adrian Tierney Jones, and Sam and Joe from Salcombe Brewery were waiting for us in the lounge. Dimpled pints were filled directly from the casks which were stillaged in a slightly lower unlined bare stone space beyond the parlour. Later when being given the full tour I noticed how much cooler this space was and all the beer was cool and in perfect condition. I really really love beer straight from the cask, it can’t be beaten.

We spent the afternoon drinking and chatting and suddenly they were calling last drinks. The Bridge maintains the old custom, once enforced by law, of afternoon closing as at 2.30pm the pub closes and doesn’t open again till 5. After a behind the scenes tour we wandered back to the train station with the help of Sam who lives in Topsham and took a train back to Exeter St Davids and then on to Totnes.

The journey down the Devon coast was particularly beautiful. At Totnes we struggled to find a cab so walked the kilometre or so to the pub we were staying at, the King William IV. After a drink at the pub we set out for a curry. Winding through medieval lanes we came across a curry house set in a faux tudor feasting hall. I ordered up a storm. Last time I managed to miss having a curry in Britian so I had high hopes. The entrée came and while the Seekh Kebab was excellent the rest of the tandoori meats were average. Then came the biryani , lightly coloured rice with spare meat and an incredibly Anglo curry sauce with mixed veg on the side. Very odd. The other curry ordered had dry lumps of chicken that didn’t really resemble bits of the bird and I suspect were a processed product. The food had it seems been shown a pack of spices from across the kitchen but hadn’t actually consummated the relationship. We hurried to pay before the eager host could see how little we ate. Oh well maybe things will be better up north.

We wandered back to our pub, and ended the night with double whiskies before shuffling upstairs to sleep alone in the building as we were the only guests.