Cycling and drinking across Dartmoor

The Big Bike Ride is becoming an annual tradition for me – a 3 to 4 day cycle trip on my own, because Ray can’t ride a bike.

This year I did most of the Devon Coast to Coast, which I can heartily recommend, from Barnstaple to Plymouth.

Personally, I don’t ever drink and cycle, even if it’s just a half and I’m on a traffic-free route.

I really notice the drop in cognitive ability and I don’t feel comfortable being less than 100% in control of myself.

However, the itinerary I planned left plenty of time for visiting pubs in the evenings, and everything mentioned in this post was by way of a post-cycling reward and refreshment.

My first observation, based on the seven pubs I visited, was that the Devon preference for brown bitters continues.

All the pubs I visited had an ale selection, most of which were the likes of Dartmoor Best, or similar beers from less-established local breweries. 

Nice enough, I suppose, especially if you’re one of those people who thinks “you can’t get bitter anywhere these days”.

But it seems a pity that my standout beer of the weekend was St Austell Proper Job from Cornwall.

A related observation: St Austell is saturating ever more of Devon and seems to have brought the quality control with them. I had Proper Job in three pubs and it was excellent every time.

It was also really interesting being in Devon and observing hospitality businesses at the changeover point between summer holidays and the autumn ‘shoulder’ season. Menus were being changed, and opening hours reduced.

Finally, perhaps for the reasons above, I didn’t actually discover a standout pub on this visit – one that made me think “I must bring Ray here.”

This isn’t to say I didn’t like any of them. I had some very nice sessions, and few complaints.

It’s just that pubs in this part of the world – and, indeed, anywhere sparsely populated but also dependent on tourism – have to work hard to appeal to everybody.

So, you end up with a fairly inoffensive but unexciting offer. This applies to food, booze selection, and decor.

We’re still in faux-half-timbering and by-the-kilo horse brasses territory here.

I’m sounding rather negative about the whole thing and that isn’t my intention.

I think if you didn’t overthink beer and pubs like we tend to, you would have been utterly charmed by all of the pubs.

I observed groups of German and American tourists who were absolutely delighted by what they’d found. You will certainly find plenty to eat and drink, and the ale will be decent.

Anyway, I did get to fulfil a long held ambition and do a crawl (on foot) between the twin pubs of Mary Tavy and Peter Tavy.

I read about these two villages decades ago and was intrigued. They’re about a 25 to 30 minute walk apart through a beautiful wooded valley. 

The Mary Tavy Inn is slightly away from the village, on an A road, and would be an excellent pitstop with its enormous garden and view across the moor.

It’s also quite down to earth with football screens everywhere. That felt quite unusual for this part of the world.

I got in five minutes before closing – the reducing opening hours I mentioned earlier – which gave me enough time for a quick half of Jail Ale and no more.

In contrast, The Peter Tavy Inn is up a dirt track in the middle of the village, and leans heavily into rustic charm, with a fancier menu.

While I enjoyed both pubs, it’s the walk between them that will linger with me, with the first brown leaves and a late summer breeze between the trees.