Bigbury on Sea - The Old Pilchard Inn
Posted: Wed Mar 07, 2012 9:42 pm
Bigbury on Sea
As you approach Bigbury on Sea, on the south coast of the county, you capture the image of a place at peace with itself. Burgh Island, lying just offshore, can be reached, at low tide, by walking along the beach. When the tide is in, a tractor provides a service to the island.
The sea comes and goes by wrapping it’s arms around the island, as to say, we are part of the mainland but then we’re not. The island has a splendid hotel, where, it is said, who done it authoress, Agatha Christie, once stayed. The Pilchard Inn, which is known to be dated back to the 14th century, stands guard just above the beach.
Bigbury, with it’s sandy beach is extremely popular in summer, with locals and visitors alike. It is in the winter, on a cold sunny day, that place lies asleep, in harmony with the sea.
The Old Pilchard Inn
Across the sand, to Burgh Island hill
The sea now gone, to return at will
Above the rocks, stands the old Inn
Host of cider, beer, and bottles of Gin
Visions of pirates, in a three cornered hat
Wooden legs and parrots, and all things like that
Upon the hill, where Monks did dwell
Were they customers too, might as well
Climb the steps, dusted in sand
And enter the bar, with beams so grand
Gaze through the window, to the Bigbury shore
The sea has returned, the beach is no more
A glass if you please of your best real ale
Gone ae the days of smuggled Rum for sale
The smell of the sea lingers, wherever you are
Down on the terrace, or stood at the bar
Sun, sea and a pint, in glorious Devon
This surely must be, just next to heaven.
© Ray Steed 2012
As you approach Bigbury on Sea, on the south coast of the county, you capture the image of a place at peace with itself. Burgh Island, lying just offshore, can be reached, at low tide, by walking along the beach. When the tide is in, a tractor provides a service to the island.
The sea comes and goes by wrapping it’s arms around the island, as to say, we are part of the mainland but then we’re not. The island has a splendid hotel, where, it is said, who done it authoress, Agatha Christie, once stayed. The Pilchard Inn, which is known to be dated back to the 14th century, stands guard just above the beach.
Bigbury, with it’s sandy beach is extremely popular in summer, with locals and visitors alike. It is in the winter, on a cold sunny day, that place lies asleep, in harmony with the sea.
The Old Pilchard Inn
Across the sand, to Burgh Island hill
The sea now gone, to return at will
Above the rocks, stands the old Inn
Host of cider, beer, and bottles of Gin
Visions of pirates, in a three cornered hat
Wooden legs and parrots, and all things like that
Upon the hill, where Monks did dwell
Were they customers too, might as well
Climb the steps, dusted in sand
And enter the bar, with beams so grand
Gaze through the window, to the Bigbury shore
The sea has returned, the beach is no more
A glass if you please of your best real ale
Gone ae the days of smuggled Rum for sale
The smell of the sea lingers, wherever you are
Down on the terrace, or stood at the bar
Sun, sea and a pint, in glorious Devon
This surely must be, just next to heaven.
© Ray Steed 2012