Archive for the ‘Hungerford’ Tag
With an hour to kill in Hungerford, I wandered looking for some street food but the chippies, kebab places, and other takeaways were closed until later in the evening. However, there are many pubs and I continued my liquid diet in the Borough Arms with a Wadworth Horizon.
There was a lot of activity at the snooker table and I was the only punter watching the football on the three screens I could spot; even this was just a ruse, though, as the other customers were especially entertaining to watch and listen to. Once again, as the only stranger in a bar that obviously doesn’t get a lot of strangers in I was left alone but suspect that staying for a second pint would have been all the invitation required for one or more of the regulars to start an interrogation…too bad I was already loaded when I arrived AND was on a deadline for the bus. I may stop in again on my next trip to Hungerford, though.
I love a Railway Tavern and this was a pretty good one with London Pride on tap, pleasant enough rock on the speakers, and a bunch of tabloid papers on the table where I sat. The barmaid was friendly and most of the other customers appeared to be regulars. The house still looks like a 19th- or early 20th-century hotel and they have live music several times a week. The only down side is the rail line doesn’t run to Swindon (you would have to change in Reading).
The return run from the Pelican came over a steep hill and descended into Hungerford eventually near the Town Hall almost directly across from the Plume of Feathers (an alternative name for pubs originally called the Prince of Wales, describing the symbology of the pub signs).
The staff get really mixed reviews but they seemed friendly enough to me (and I was drenched with rain, covered knee-high in mud, and sweating profusely thus not in a state to expect the warmest welcome). They were quite attentive to the old codgers that appeared to be in the same places they have stood since the Coronation and greeted other strangers at least cordially.
One of the ancients commented on the colour of the Oakham Citra I ordered in such a way as to suggest it was an effeminate choice but the bar lady said it had been very popular the past week or so. It was very astringent and hoppy with an almost skunky floral aftertaste…very nice.
The plan was to catch the bus to Hungerford and jog the canal path to Kintbury, grab a pint and head back. As is typical, the run started off wrong and got worse but, all tolled, was not an especially bad day out.
I thought we approached Hungerford from the south and so turned right onto the path which was a soupy and slick nightmare. With no traction, it took two to three times the number of steps to cover the distance and there was always a reasonable chance of falling into the canal.
At the road to Froxfield, I checked my map and realised I was near the Pelican and decided it would have to do as a turnaround point. Not relishing the return mud bath I went over some hilly trails to get to a single track road that, this time, actually did approach Hungerford from the south.
Hungerford is pretty. Here’s the town hall and some detail:
The Endless British Pub Crawl 