12/06/21 - The Hat, Seaton - One for the Dubious Pub Ticking Panel

Good Beer Guide Tick = #557 (Maybe)

The punchline first - I brought beer from there, so regardless of the purists, I'm claiming it.

The horrors of a 4.5hr drive, the first traffic jam since lockdown on the M5 and the misery of Bridgwater Services needed to be extinguished from my memory.  The Good Beer Guide can show me the nearest place to do this - but suspicions are aroused by the name.

The Hat with No Cattle, Seaton.   Its going to me a micro isn't it?

Will it be open?  Friday 6pm seems like a good time to chance my arm.

Will we fit in?  There are 6 of us.  I have brought my adult children, my wife and parents-in-law - who, having experienced geocaching, are equally keen to see what else I get up to on a weekend?

Will it be wheelchair friendly?  Only one way to find out.  Plonk my mother-in-law into the chariot and work up a thirst by pushing her the 1.5 miles along the river Axe into town.

This all works out fine - until we reach a hill.  Being experienced in micros, I decide the safest thing to do is to head off alone, text back if we are good to go and get my adult son to take over pushing duties.

The Hat Seaton

Some notes on the micropub - a former butchers shop that has four real ales on Tap.  There is no fizzy beer or lager.  A no mobile phone policy in operation.  The unusual name courtesy of the landlord who always wears a hat.  Google Map shows it as a 5pm opener.

All pre-requisites for a micro met.

Naturally, at 6pm, it was all locked up.

But there is hope, for I am here on Saturday

I return to the posse and a look that will haunt me for the rest of my days.  The disgust on my Mother-in-law's face when I tell her the pub is shut.  It was very similar to mine after I had been served an appalling Otter Ale at the near-by Malt House.

I'm not easily put off.  The following day, I complete a wonderful walk from nearby Beer and have finished by midday.  I head back to investigate.

The door is indeed open and I look around for instructions, a bar, tables to sit at - something pub-like.  All I see is a butcher's chiller cabinet and some shelves with consumable food products.

Mask on, I ask the stupid question "Hello, is there a bar here?".

The lady replies "No, this is a delicatessen" 

Have I gone through the wrong door?  The mystery is solved when the landlord comes out and breaks my heart with tales of running a micro in lockdown.  Just no space.  They have relaunched the business.

Thinking about the beer ticking community and feeling mighty sorry for our landlord - I ask if they sell beer.  

I exit with the last four bottles of Exmoor Brewery ales they have on the shelf.   

And a pork pie.  

Footnote:  I think it was the landlord.  He was hatless.