Lost in the Strawberry Farm - it's not quite what the Clash sang about, is it?
This was the fifth stop on my journey by train along the Cotswolds Line.
And I've gotta admit that Honeybourne hadn't stood out as one of the destinations that I was really looking forward to.
And I've gotta admit that Honeybourne hadn't stood out as one of the destinations that I was really looking forward to.
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| Unwelcoming station signage |
It'll be a lovely walk on the footpaths across the fields, thought I.
Then it started to rain and the paths turned out to be pretty poorly marked.
The route took me down a muddy track past row after row of polytunnels of strawberries.
The route took me down a muddy track past row after row of polytunnels of strawberries.
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| Strawberries. |
I missed an obscure turn that the footpath took and managed to get completely lost.
I eventually had to attract a passing farm worker, telling him that I'd mislaid the footpath.
I eventually had to attract a passing farm worker, telling him that I'd mislaid the footpath.
"You're on a farm", he answered, quite unhelpfully.
I don't think he could quite get the concept that I'd been trying to follow a public right of way.
Perhaps he thought I was willfully trespassing, stealing strawberry secrets.
Instead of quickly pointing me in the right direction, he had a sudden thought that anyone lost on the farm should be wearing a face-mask.
In the middle of a wide open space.
The world was a little bit bonkers anyway, but it's really lost the plot in 2020.
Perhaps he thought I was willfully trespassing, stealing strawberry secrets.
Instead of quickly pointing me in the right direction, he had a sudden thought that anyone lost on the farm should be wearing a face-mask.
In the middle of a wide open space.
The world was a little bit bonkers anyway, but it's really lost the plot in 2020.
I managed to get directed to a nearby exit and a gate through which I could have just let myself out and no-one would have been any the wiser. Ho hum.
I was behind time, a little bit wet and muddy and fed up when I reached the Fleece and stood dutifully at the 'Wait here to be served' point.
This fantastic rural pub is owned by the National Trust, who tell us on their website that it "has developed a reputation for traditional folk music, morris dancing and asparagus". None of which were available today, although I would have just settled for the asparagus."
Wye Valley Brewery beers and Purity UBU on the bar.
When I heard a West Midlands accent excitedly proclaiming to his companions "oooh! They've got Butty Bach!" I kinda regretted my choice of the best bitter.
But, it was a decent pint in fine condition.
I suspected I'd be stuck outside in the rain, with the place being surprisingly busy for a midweek lunchtime.
But the staff showed me to a table in what's known as the Brewhouse Room. I was the odd one out: not over 60 and not ordering a meal. And the one with muddy boots.
The Fleece Inn dates back to the 17th century, occupying an old farmhouse building. The old furniture (including fabulous big wooden settles), collections of crockery and pewter dishes, wooden beams and uneven flagstone floors, make this a glorious slice of pub history.
More info on the pub heritage site here. I especially like the story that the last private landlady in the 70's, who lived in the pub her whole life, wouldn't serve you whilst Coronation Street was on!
Almost all sources had suggested the the Thatched Cottage was closed, including their own website, but I was happy to see the open door.
Okay, it's overshadowed by the Fleece nearby, but the Thatched Cottage has it's own brown 'C13th Thatch Tavern' road-sign.
The current timber-framed pub is Grade II listed.
Wye Valley Brewery beers and Purity UBU on the bar.
When I heard a West Midlands accent excitedly proclaiming to his companions "oooh! They've got Butty Bach!" I kinda regretted my choice of the best bitter.
But, it was a decent pint in fine condition.
But the staff showed me to a table in what's known as the Brewhouse Room. I was the odd one out: not over 60 and not ordering a meal. And the one with muddy boots.
The Fleece Inn dates back to the 17th century, occupying an old farmhouse building. The old furniture (including fabulous big wooden settles), collections of crockery and pewter dishes, wooden beams and uneven flagstone floors, make this a glorious slice of pub history.
More info on the pub heritage site here. I especially like the story that the last private landlady in the 70's, who lived in the pub her whole life, wouldn't serve you whilst Coronation Street was on!
Time to move on and make my return journey to Honeybourne.
I braved the strawberry farm again, it being clearly the most direct route to walk. Starting from Bretforton, I could easily find the path I should have been on earlier and see where I'd gone wrong, missing the barely visible way-markers.
Stick some better signage up and you're less likely to find waifs and strays on bits of the farm they shouldn't be on!
Arriving in Honeybourne's old village centre (the station is 10-minutes away from this, surrounded by new build homes), I was looking for a thatched roof.
I braved the strawberry farm again, it being clearly the most direct route to walk. Starting from Bretforton, I could easily find the path I should have been on earlier and see where I'd gone wrong, missing the barely visible way-markers.
Stick some better signage up and you're less likely to find waifs and strays on bits of the farm they shouldn't be on!
Arriving in Honeybourne's old village centre (the station is 10-minutes away from this, surrounded by new build homes), I was looking for a thatched roof.
The Thatched Cottage (12 High Street, Honeybourne, WR11 7PQ - web)
Okay, it's overshadowed by the Fleece nearby, but the Thatched Cottage has it's own brown 'C13th Thatch Tavern' road-sign.
The current timber-framed pub is Grade II listed.
Personally, I'd have black beams inside the pub - I'm not sold on that olive paint...
There were more Wye Valley beers on the bar. This time I went for the 'HPA' - possibly not on the best of form - cask ales in quiet pubs midweek lunchtime are something of a lottery.
There is a second pub in the village, The Gate, but with trains departing every 2-hours, I wasn't about to hang around waiting for the 4pm opening time for a pint of keg.
Anyway, it looks like this...
Anyway, it looks like this...
I guess this is where I diverge from you. I have no problem with having to spend another two hours in a venue because the next train is not until then.
ReplyDeleteBut then, I am not keen on pub crawls. My selection is to choose a venue with lots of beers on cask (or, more typically in North America, draft),
and drink my way through that draft list (lower-to-higher when possible).
I will go to lengths to find venues that have reasonable transit schedules to | from, especially at 11:00 pm. For "indie rock", I jibe that
Michael Stipe needs to record "Can't Get Back From There" (because R.E.M. are defunct).
If you are curious, I have a bunch of tales of covering soccer {sorry - the word "football" does not exist in my vocabulary ~ except for Australian
Rules Football}, including my story of covering the 1999 U.S. Open Cup Final, which is the last time a second division team won the Open Cup.
Thanks for the comment Steve.
DeleteFor many a year I did the same as you, sticking to one pub or bar and trying a number of the beers on offer. But there are not many pubs that have that good a beer list close to me sadly - a trip to Reading's Nags Head fits the bill, with 12 casks arranged light to dark, weaker to stronger.
Nowadays I end up on a crawl because I'm keen to see as many good pubs as possible - plus I have itchy feet and the feeling that I may be missing somewhere really good around the corner...
Just been reading up on the U.S. Open Cup final and realised my knowledge of soccer in the States is very limited. Are your tales covering the game available to read somewhere Steve?
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