As with a lot of momentous discoveries, we didn't intend it. After our exciting explorations at Imber village, we were in need of refreshments and a space for Deefer to run in. We were headed up to the Westbury white horse whilst keeping our eyes peeled for a country pub we could stop in. As we neared the turning for the white horse, a wooden sandwich board caught our attention. It was a small sign, but it irrevocably changed our lives. The sign read 'The best pub in smiles'. We scoffed at the pun, rolled our eyes and threw caution to the wind to follow the sign. We drove into the car park and that's where the magic began to unfold before our very eyes. I cannot stress this enough: it was like veils of perfection being whipped away in front of us at every turn. So many little details combined to make it a wonderous place. (So much so that I now wonder, if I were to return, would it still be there, or was it simply a figment of our imagination?)
Allow me to lead you through the stages of discovery that meant The Horse and Groom at Westbury is the best pub in the world.
1) There was a garden. With grass. And trees. And a stream at the end. And benches. It was a tad cold to sit in the garden, but I logged the information for future reference.
2) On the way in, there was a sign saying dogs were allowed. With well behaved owners. It was obvious we were on the same canine wavelength. On entering the pub, we found Deefer had two inquisitive, furry friends for company. There were also dog treats available (for a small donation to charity) at the bar. We were all amongst friends.
3) We had spotted a sign outside saying that there is live music every Sunday afternoon. Seemingly, we had pitched up right on cue. Our first sight as we passed through the doorway was of three men noodling on a variety of instruments. We took a seat in the bar directly opposite the 'stage' area. The musicians were billed as a blues, rock and country group, and that's exactly what we were treated to. There was a singer who beautifully growled his way through a range of songs, some I knew, some I didn't, but all I enjoyed. A guitarist who had a few more years of life experience under his belt gave us plenty to riff along to. And then there was the third musician...
4) This man was harmonica player. The harmonica is my weapon of choice; I quite terribly attempt to eke a tune out of mine. This means I am a sucker for any song adorned by a lonely wail of the 'monica. This man was a king of harmonicas. He coaxed blindingly bluesy riffs out of his to accompany the others. And he had a few harmonicas to choose from. I kid you not, this man had a harmonica utility belt: about eight of the blighters lined up along his waistline. It was as if Batman had branched out in his superhero capacity. This man was a true harmonica hero in my book.
5) They were serving food. We were starving and bracing ourselves for the worst as it was way past lunchtime on Easter Sunday. The lady at the bar cheerily told us they were serving food all day. I looked down the menu and my heart sailed as I found several vegetarian options. Being a vegetarian can often be a minefield. But here, in the best pub in the world, there were choices. And good choices. And when my choice was brought to the table, it tasted good too.
6) Alongside the condiments on the table sat a small box. It was a box of quiz questions. Jenny and I looked around, and on each table was a different box. My eyes widened with joy. Each table had a different box of trivia: Trivial Pursuit, travel questions or others of the sort. Who doesn't love a quiz? Such a simple idea. What a nice thing to do.
7) By the menus at the bar was a box of spare reading glasses for the convenience of all. By the door was a pile of blankets for the hardy folks who want to brave the garden. It's those little touches that give this pub the edge.
8) We sat with full bellies, quizzed out, with dogs by our feet and being serenaded by a fantastic group of musicians. Just as we thought it couldn't get any better, the man from the bar strolled over to us and handed us a tambourine and a percussion shaker (of the extra loud variety) and looked at us encouragingly. We were being invited to join the party! And join we did. We played along (as much as our musical ability allowed us) and smiles of joy spread across our faces. We laughed with the gents at the table next door to us and then went on to share some music anecdotes with our new friends. One of our comrades was the father of the singer in the group and his pride for his son beamed out of him to cheer us all even more.
Eventually we had to leave this pub paradise. Deefer needed a run and we had a long journey ahead to get home. But the smiles that we had been given in that magical place never left our faces for the whole journey home. It was a very opportune discovery, a legendary story for us to remember, and most definitely, the best pub in smiles.
2) On the way in, there was a sign saying dogs were allowed. With well behaved owners. It was obvious we were on the same canine wavelength. On entering the pub, we found Deefer had two inquisitive, furry friends for company. There were also dog treats available (for a small donation to charity) at the bar. We were all amongst friends.
3) We had spotted a sign outside saying that there is live music every Sunday afternoon. Seemingly, we had pitched up right on cue. Our first sight as we passed through the doorway was of three men noodling on a variety of instruments. We took a seat in the bar directly opposite the 'stage' area. The musicians were billed as a blues, rock and country group, and that's exactly what we were treated to. There was a singer who beautifully growled his way through a range of songs, some I knew, some I didn't, but all I enjoyed. A guitarist who had a few more years of life experience under his belt gave us plenty to riff along to. And then there was the third musician...
4) This man was harmonica player. The harmonica is my weapon of choice; I quite terribly attempt to eke a tune out of mine. This means I am a sucker for any song adorned by a lonely wail of the 'monica. This man was a king of harmonicas. He coaxed blindingly bluesy riffs out of his to accompany the others. And he had a few harmonicas to choose from. I kid you not, this man had a harmonica utility belt: about eight of the blighters lined up along his waistline. It was as if Batman had branched out in his superhero capacity. This man was a true harmonica hero in my book.
5) They were serving food. We were starving and bracing ourselves for the worst as it was way past lunchtime on Easter Sunday. The lady at the bar cheerily told us they were serving food all day. I looked down the menu and my heart sailed as I found several vegetarian options. Being a vegetarian can often be a minefield. But here, in the best pub in the world, there were choices. And good choices. And when my choice was brought to the table, it tasted good too.
6) Alongside the condiments on the table sat a small box. It was a box of quiz questions. Jenny and I looked around, and on each table was a different box. My eyes widened with joy. Each table had a different box of trivia: Trivial Pursuit, travel questions or others of the sort. Who doesn't love a quiz? Such a simple idea. What a nice thing to do.
7) By the menus at the bar was a box of spare reading glasses for the convenience of all. By the door was a pile of blankets for the hardy folks who want to brave the garden. It's those little touches that give this pub the edge.
8) We sat with full bellies, quizzed out, with dogs by our feet and being serenaded by a fantastic group of musicians. Just as we thought it couldn't get any better, the man from the bar strolled over to us and handed us a tambourine and a percussion shaker (of the extra loud variety) and looked at us encouragingly. We were being invited to join the party! And join we did. We played along (as much as our musical ability allowed us) and smiles of joy spread across our faces. We laughed with the gents at the table next door to us and then went on to share some music anecdotes with our new friends. One of our comrades was the father of the singer in the group and his pride for his son beamed out of him to cheer us all even more.
Eventually we had to leave this pub paradise. Deefer needed a run and we had a long journey ahead to get home. But the smiles that we had been given in that magical place never left our faces for the whole journey home. It was a very opportune discovery, a legendary story for us to remember, and most definitely, the best pub in smiles.
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