Devonshire Inn, Sticklepath, Devon

Back in March 2016 I had gone to Dartmoor for the day, partly with the intention of going for a walk (you can read about the walk here) but probably, if I'm honest, more in the hope of finding some beautiful unspoilt Dartmoor pubs. Of course in most parts of Dartmoor the pubs are very spread out, and trying to plan a pub crawl on foot would involve some quite serious walking between them. However there's a little cluster of villages to the north of Dartmoor (Belstone, Sticklepath and South Zeal) which are only a mile or two apart, are accessible by public transport (a bus from Exeter St. David's dropped me off a little outside Belstone) and combined these three villages have five pubs. All five are nice enough in their own way, but without a doubt the most special of that handful is the Devonshire Inn in Sticklepath.

I immediately fell in love with the Devonshire Inn as soon as I walked in. It can sometimes be a little difficult putting my finger on what exactly makes such a perfect pub. Absolutely the worst possible fate that can befall a pub is modernisation. The merest hint of a Farrow and Ball paint job and I immediately lose interest. However there are also places which have avoided that terrible destiny but didn't have a particularly appealing decor in the first place, have never had much care lavished on them, and now look rather run down and tatty. Somewhere in between though, or possibly existing on a different axis altogether, are pubs which have beautiful interiors that haven't changed for decades, or even centuries, and have clearly been cherished by landlords and customers alike. Unspoilt, but not unloved either. The Devonshire Inn exists on this magical plane of pub heaven.

I stood at the bar, and was served by a lady who could well be in her 80s. The beers are served directly from stillage behind the bar - I think I read somewhere that at one time the casks were kept cool by a leat which runs behind the pub, not sure whether that's still the case.

Despite the glorious weather outside there was a roaring open fire. I immediately became ensconced in conversation with a couple of the regulars, I was very pleased to see a bit of tweed amongst them, and I'd have been very happy to just stay here the rest of the day.

I wish I had taken more photos of the interior - I thought I had - but it seems it was only the two at the top of this page. Perhaps that was partly down to a sense of slight awkwardness that I was intruding in somebody's home - it felt so wonderfully far removed from the clinical commercial atmosphere of modern pubs. Therein lay its charm.

Outside it's actually relatively unassuming - a fairly plan whitewashed thatched building, consistent with the rest of the houses on the "high street" of Sticklepath - a village of only 450 inhabitants, which impressively manages to support two pubs.

I long to return some day, and hope when I do I will find it still exactly the same as it was on that beautiful Good Friday in 2016.