The Who’d A Thought It was doing a splendid lunch trade when I came in and ordered my fish and chips. I paid up and took my Corvus Stout to the garden where I was stared down by a tree wearing a flat cap:
It was the farthest point on my run and I couldn’t yet decide if I was going to go to Marlborough or back to Avebury (run map in this other post shows Avebury, indeed). The garden is huge, the house lovely, the staff pleasant — even charming — and professional. No wonder this outpost was packed.
The Endless British Pub Crawl 