At 7pm on a Friday at The Lamb Inn in Shipton-under-Wychwood, the pub is alive with the sound of laughter. Diners and drinkers sit at candle-strewn tables under which border terriers and beagles look out for leftovers. Crowds are in the middle of standing space in hopes of getting a table. The server in striped aprons are in the space. Wine corks pop. The glasses are clink. The knives clatter. The ceiling beams are vibrating.
Peter Creed, The Lamb's co-owner, explains that the local real-estate owner, the mechanic, the gamekeeper, and the guy who has a second home in London are all involved. I am nestled in the corner on an antique bench, from which the entire room is surveyable, and I feel like I have won the best pitch in the house for people-watching. The pub is the center of the community.
I am not part of the village stronghold. I am one of a number of out-of-towners who stay in a pub with bedrooms. The Lamb has a 10 that includes freestanding baths, antiques, and Egyptian cotton sheets. If self-catered apartments have become code for isolation, hotels feel vast and bed-and-breakfasts skew too, the quintessentially British inn is the antithesis.
Creed and his business partner Tom Noest reopened the 16th-century coaching inn in June last year. After honing their skills at St John, the duo took over this once-failing venture in February 2021, with the aim of breathing new life into its old stone walls. The Lamb's mood is more eclectic, an easy mix of old and new. The ancient wood panelling is now a shade of forest green and the chef serves fried frog legs and bone-marrow flatbreads. The pair took the trappings of the experience and turned it into a modern one.
The Lamb is one of a wave of new pubs that bring a considered, stylish edge to the conventional with-rooms experience. The Bradley Hare reopened in June of last year. The old coaching stables at the Victorian pub were turned into five new bedrooms by Andrew Kelly and James Thurstan Waterworth, the former European design director at Soho House. They are described by Thurstan Waterworth as airy yet unpretentious. The site has a garden with fruits and vegetables plated up in the kitchen.
In Yorkshire, the charm-filled Alice Hawthorn mixes cozy country with contemporary Scandinavian minimalism: its 12 new super-king-size beds and rainfall showers will prove a natural sanctuary from the bustle of the bar below. The Hare and Hounds Inn, located in a small hamlet among the hills of the Lake District, was recently reopened by Simon Rayner-Langmead and Andrew Black.
The Drunken Duck Inn is one of the establishments that have elevated in recent years. None of the new openings serve up lofty plates. The aim is to retain favour with locals.
When watering holes in Britain were closed for the best part of a year due to the Pandemic, an estimated 2,500 pubs were left vulnerable to closing. The UK lost 23 per cent of its pubs in 10 years, but they had already weathered a decade of difficulties. Landlords can no longer rely on one income stream.
You get advice from locals you wouldn’t get from Google
A split of 30 to 30 between bedrooms, wet sales and food is our goal. Black says bedrooms make a pub better. You become a part of the furniture.
Travelers are interested in a truer experience of place. A pub ingratiates a guest. The commute to bed after a night out is almost non-existent.
The pub has been a place of refuge for thousands of years. Creed says that it was where the industry began. The Old Ferry Boat is said to be the oldest boozer in England and has been for over 500 years. The inns used to be built off highways and had a road-weary shelter. The co-owner of the 250-year-old Alice Hawthorn says that the name became a symbol of success and prosperity.
It's not a wilderness retreat, but you are sufficiently far from the city to relax a bit more.
At The Hare and Hounds, Rayner-Langmead is perched on a fender seat that surrounds the 17th-century fire and he often thinks of old-time travellers. His Cumbrian pub has nooks andTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkia, his Cumbrian pub has allTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkia, his Cumbrian pub has allTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkia, his Cumbrian pub has allTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkiaTrademarkia, his Cumbrian pub has all A local farmer recently sold a horse to a tourist after a chance conversation at the bar, and others spread the word of their hand-reared bacon that would doubtless fend off the heaviest of hangovers.
That is proving to be a real draw right now. He made me vow to keep its secret.
On my third glass of red, I learn of hidden underground passageways frequented by the village's monks in the 12th century, and am given a running route through the countryside with keen advice.
Taking it to task, the following morning I peel myself out from between the sheets and embark on a very reluctant amble. I find myself sitting at breakfast after leaving for 30 minutes. There is a person in front of me. I look around the room at my dining companions and think we are 17th-century travellers, well-rested and about to embark upon our next adventure. Our paths are unlikely to cross again. I look to myself. Eat. Drink. Stay. Long live the pub.
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