When I packed for the run I loaded my flask with bourbon in the event that one of the pubs on my loop were, sadly, shuttered. This didn’t happen, happily, but upon leaving the third one of the day I was incapable of reading my map and missed a cross-road that would have foreshortened the journey. Instead, I veered off to Liddington before turning back downhill toward the Great Western Hospital. On my left through the mist the Sun appeared…the Sun Inn, that is.
I don’t think it has been closed long, but it has become decrepit in that period. There are nice views out the back, where I huddled with my flask for the obligatory salute. You look out toward the hills to the south and completely miss the motorway down in the hole, although you can hear it. Too far from a junction, this country inn probably just didn’t get enough traffic to survive. RIP.
bourbon for this very sadly demised house