Water, water everywhere, nor any drop to drink

 

An early September visit to Bridgwater, featuring two Somerset beer guide pubs, a Coleridge diversion, a muddy river, and a timber framed 'Spoons.

Mid-afternoon, I made my way to the village of Nether Stowey, 8 miles west of Bridgwater on the Minehead road.

The Exmoor tourist information website provides five 'top highlights' for Nether Stowey. 
One of which is free parking and public toilets. 
Another two of which involve getting out the village (exploring the Quantocks or heading off in your walking boots on the 51-mile Coleridge Way).

So it may not be packed full of highlights, but it is a peaceful and charming village, home to around 1,400 people, the remains of a Norman castle on a hill, and two pubs. 

The George (1 St Mary Street, Nether Stowey, TA5 1LJ - web)
The George is located right at the centre of the village opposite the 19th century free-standing clock tower.
It traces it's history back to 1616 whilst the current building was erected around 1843. 
Strikingly red and brown, piano in one corner, old maps and pictures of the village hanging on the walls.

The two sides of the front room were bereft of any customers, but the rear room (moodily lit and even redder) was reasonably busy with a local crowd.
Loud and sweary - perhaps I'd misjudged the genteel nature of Nether Stowey.

On cask was Salcombe 'Gold', Exmoor 'Ale' or Stans cider.
I took an Exmoor Ale to a table in the corner of the front room where I could earwig the banter from the other side of the bar, admire the tiffany lamps, and tap my foot along to 'Living on the Ceiling' by Blancmange.

Poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge lived in the village in a cottage now owned by the National Trust, so I figured I'd go and have a look at it after finishing my beer.
I have to admit I felt a little bit fiddled when I read the plaque in front of the cottage and discovered Coleridge only lived there for 2-years (1797-1799).  Although it was where he wrote Kubla Khan and Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

I'd love to claim my knowledge of Rime of the Ancient Mariner is due to my education in the Romantic Movement, but the reality is it's all down to Iron Maiden.

The pub, directly across the road from the Coleridge Cottage, should really be playing the '84 'Maiden track on repeat, but they weren't. 
'Suspicious Minds' followed by 'Summer of 69', actually.

The Ancient Mariner (42 Lime Street, Nether Stowey, TA5 1NH - web)
And it was completely empty when I wandered in.  Not even a soul behind the bar and I was just about to give up when someone bounded out asking what they could get me.

A choice of Otter 'Bright' or Dartmoor 'Jail Ale'.
The Bright was just about passable and almost certainly would have benefited by a few other pints being poured before mine.

The front room of the Mariner made it worth calling in to - a timber-framed hall-like space with a grand fireplace in this 16th century building.

Whilst the other two areas to the left-side were a bit less pubby, with those chunky high-backed leather chairs that belong in restaurants not pubs.
Just as I was leaving there was an influx of customers.

I made my way back to Bridgwater, although the sole Good Beer Guide entry turned out to be 1.3 miles from the centre out in the residential suburbs.

West India House (101 Durleigh Road, Bridgwater, TA6 7JE)
The name of this large 1936 pub harks back to the time when Bridgwater was in full swing as an inland port.  The land on which it stands is said to have once been owned by a West India Trading Company merchant.

Through the front door you've got a choice of Saloon to the left or Bar to the right.
Two local ales on cask in the bar: Cheddar Ales 'Totty Pot' or 'Wild Thing', plus Butcombe and St Austell 'Proper Job' round the corner in the saloon.

A 'Totty Pot' for me, probably the only person on the stout on a balmy T-shirt weather evening.

The West India House was doing a decent Friday evening trade: local workmen perched on the low wall under the tree out front drinking Pravha; folks putting in big complicated orders at the bar and forgetting if Maisie wanted Elderflower or Rhubarb & Raspberry tonic with their G&T.

I'm still none-the-wiser as to why sitting out front watching Durleigh Road was so popular when there was a big grassy garden to the rear.

No time to settle in the garden for me, as I made my way into the centre of town.
Bridgwater is a mixed-bag of old and new, perhaps not quite meeting the rose-tinted expectations I'd inexplicably built-up. 
There were certainly plenty of lively town pubs - a Friday evening crawl around them would be more in Evo Boozy Saddler territory than Prop Up the Bar's usual genteel excursions pointing out heritage pub features.

The River Parrett was a bit of a letdown with discarded shopping trolleys wedged in the muddy banks.
The view of the West Quay, from the Eastover Bridge, was probably the highlight with its Dutch influences...

In hindsight, I do wish I'd called in to the Fountain pub, to the left of that pic.
But I hadn't really done my research of Bridgwater pubs, so ended up in 'Spoons.
A fine location on the historic St Mary's Street, facing the church.

Next door neighbour, the Bridgwater Arms, hasn't fared so well - closed since 2010

Carnival Inn (37-39 St Mary Street, Bridgwater, TA6 3LX - web)
The pub name is derived from the famous Bridgwater illuminated carnival marking Bonfire night, some of the pictures on the walls showing the floats and firework celebrations.

It may have a photogenic black and white frontage, but once inside it's Spoons-by-numbers.  A vast single-storey room stretching back a long way: pillars, lots of stools and high tables up front, booths and larger tables to the back.
Toilets in a sorry state that weren't about to win any best loo competition.
And a disappointing Spoons carpet.

The cask selection on the bar was pretty uninspiring too, with a Dartmoor 'Legend' as the sole guest beer, the quality of which was debatable.

I took it to a high table at the front which the staff hadn't managed to reach with their cloth and magic spray.
Or was that me spilling my beer?

The locals sat on the high tables by the window were discussing whisky and what was for tea.

Which reminded me that I really needed to go and stock up on supplies in Morrisons.
Perhaps I missed some gems of proper pubs in Bridgwater but I called it an evening at this point.  But I'll aim to come back, as I realised that the Quantocks is a bit of the world that I know little about and really must explore.