It was a strenuous run and though I stopped five miles into it at a pub with the doors open and a dozen folks with beers before them, they were technically closed and refused to serve me…quite ungracious. Instead I dragged my increasingly thirsty self over long-if-not-steep hills for another three miles finally emerging from a golf course back in Highworth and within sight of the Fox. Thank the gods, I am rescued!
An Arkells house, I tried the only thing on the pumps I haven’t seen before, a Kingsdown Special. I find a lot of Arkells beers taste just like others in the stable (I would have sworn that the Royal Wootton Bassett commemorative was just 2B with a different label), and this one was more-or-less 2B with a bit of the 3B edge. Not bad, just disappointingly similar.
The bartender was friendly enough although he seemed to insult both Swindon and Highworth residents with equal stealth…perhaps it was a way of connecting with another immigrant (he’s from outside of Wiltshire and I pretty obviously am as well). The place was empty but the day was gorgeous and it was still early. I suspected both the front lounge and back bar would be heaving with those locals that “begrudgingly” accept him a bit later in the evening.