As if I was revisiting Atlanta in the 70′s, I had planned to run through Sodom (although this time it is the wee Wiltshire hamlet to the north of Lyneham). The bus dropped me almost in the front door of the White Hart, however, and it would have been rude to pass by without a stop.
It is an old house and you enter with the short bar directly in front of you. There is an unkempt but welcoming garden to the back and the customers and staff seem especially friendly. I didn’t chat much, and I feel a bit uncomfortable in towns facing potential as this one is–the closure of RAF Lyneham and the downsizing of the military in general is likely to hit the municipality hard. Still, for an early Sunday afternoon in the bleak midwinter they were doing a lively trade.
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