Well Harrow

Before my travel blogging comes to an end I just have to get a quickie up to share photos of a really great English pub.  The majority of hostelries in England are pretty horrid, either in a sticky carpet way or a homogenous farrow and ball gastropub way, but there are a few absolute gems out there which have character and personality in spades.  They epitomise the British eccentricity I do love.

The Harrow in Wiltshire is one such place.  A ploughman's lunch includes a whole tomato, slab of butter still in its foil and a doorstop bread slices.  When you walk through the door it could be the 1920s.  We visited just after Christmas.

These are the Christmas window displays, with real spinning ice skater in the winter diorama, and another depicting the owner's summer holiday.  I told you they were a bit bonkers.

Off to the Ladies before we go....

OK then!

1 comment:

  1. You reminded me of my favourite pub, somewhere near Derwentwater. It was called the "Drunken Duck" because some ducks got drunk there when a keg burst in the duckyard. We couldn't find it again. A bit Brigadoon really!


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