BRAPA ..... NUTBOURNES IN MAY : WEST SUSSEX PT 2/7
- Si Everitt
- 3 minutes ago
- 7 min read
Thursday 1st May 2025
I'd proved I could easily sweep up half a dozen Chichester pubs in a few hours, but the critics were posing more difficult questions, like 'Can BRAPA do it in rural W. Sussex on a sizzling May Thursday?'
So I took a bus north to the GBG desert town of Midhurst, picking up some of outer Chichester's bigger stinkers en route.
I then helped an ungrateful lady with a silver spoon in her mouth reach Petworth to meet her dreadful horse daughter, before bumping along potholed roads on the useful #1 bus service (I had to press the bell THREE TIMES because the driver couldn't hear it for rattling), finally settling in idyllic countryside village at the furthest point east, confusingly called West Chiltington.
I straighten my clothes, dust off crumbs of a flapjack, then a quick march along a posh gravelled private road towards Smock Alley, not to be confused with Smack Alley, and pub one comes into view.
Wix Update - I was going to chase them up today about my Google Photos issue which I don't like to talk about, but I was training the new girl all day so no temporary skiving was possible. I'll try tomorrow. So sorry you're stuck with more dreadful AI images.
Oh yes, what a beauty the Five Bells, West Chiltington (3092 / 5577) is - the pub that really kickstarts what would become an excellent holiday. And amongst my favourites all week. Even the beer, Flower Pots by Cheriton (a timely reminder of my proximity to evil Hampshire) was a step above anything I'd supped the previous day, as was the unspoilt homely interior. Carpet looked centuries old. But most impressive was the people who took me under their wing from the off, I never left the bar. Mr & Mrs Edwards, the owners, referred to by all and sundry in a deliciously formal throwback, have been here 41 years, and it told. I let Mrs E highlight the GBG. Equally nice was 'bike lady' (she had a bike, not loose morals) sat just below me. A jokey Fife scaffolder (why is everyone in rural West Sussex up a ladder or scaffolding?) comes in for soup and cider and asks why I have a panda. I tell him it is normally a cauliflower. That shut him up. Another lad arrives too, a sort of convict rockabilly Robson Green. Yes, my holiday really started here, and I bounced off down the road in great spirits.
Pub 2.5
Pint 2.25
People 3
Total 7.75
My second tick was walkable .... always a boost in such rural circumstances. An even chocolate-boxier village pub setting ......
Reassuring that AI ain't a patch on the real thing, Rising Sun, Nutbourne (3093 / 5578), looks perfection, has some serious age, but falls well short of the Five Bells. Foodier, though there are enough nooks and crannies to secrete yourself in on a quieter non-lunchtime, I'd expect. I even found a random fussball table. Main issue is dodgy beer. I tell Ms Short Shorts it is vinegar before I'd even left the bar (it looked like slop so I'd suspected it would be). She returns it with a great attitude, but charges me 20p extra for my (just about acceptable) replacement Tribute which IMO was tighter than her shorts. The beer garden is bliss, too many pubs call their dire outdoor patios ' beer gardens' but this was the real deal. Closest to me, a mad bloke with a Mohican asks his wife to photograph him eating a giant chunk of cheddar cheese. Had it been Red Leicester, I could've done a 'Leicester the Mohicans' joke. Shame.
Pub 2.25
Pint 1
People 2
Total 5.25
Good grief, make it end. Anyway, in happier news, I worked out that being situated on the east side of Pulborough, I could walk to pub three too without much effort. Hurrah!
Big bulky roadhouse on main road with traffic hurtling past at a rate of knots, White Horse, Pulborough (3094 / 5579) was a tonal shift AKA slight comedown as my leafy utopia was extinguished in seconds. Even the sun went behind a cloud for this one. Fullers too, which seemed surprising. Should I have been surprised? It was pretty standard Fullers fayre, landlady was functional at best, pub charisma was lacking apart from a stunning old fireplace which I'm both relieved and saddened to see isn't lit. And kudos to the beer too, no ESB (probably just as well) but the HSB is a very worthy substitute of similar ilk. It stands for 'Hardly Sussex Best', a snarky nod and wink to our mates down in Lewes. Just when I'm thinking nowt will happen, one of the two lads at the bar (the Irishman of course) waves at me through the bar, and when I look lost trying to find the Gents, threatens to take me! After that, I neck the rest of the ESB quicksticks and go to stand at the bus stop 10 minutes early.
Pub 1.75
Pint 2.25
People 1.5
Total 5.5
The bus arrives to my relief, the next stop is well back towards Midhurst called 'Byworth Road' which is handy because I have a pub to tick in Byworth village, a short little toddle off the main drag .....
Sleepy late afternoon serenity at the Black Horse, Byworth (3095 / 5580). Old modernised smartness, slight gastro bent, and it doesn't get bendier than a gastro. Thankfully quiet, and the smattering of customers are generally down from the scaffolds and ladders out in the street at the front on Guinness and cider. Toby is an excellent barman, a real YAP (young and personable) - his pet hate is incorrect glassware as he rummages high and low for an Arundel glass to put my Arundel beer in - it went downhill quite badly in the second half. I tell him I once got a Guinness in a Fosters glass. He winces in agony. I don't add that it was in a holiday park in Barnstaple, I don't want to make him feel any worse. A few more blokes arrive, most wheezy and expelling unwanted gas from the rear. Dave Angel off the Fast Show orders a coffee, then does the classic spin-round pose to ask me about local transport.
Pub 1.75
Pint 1.5
People 2
Total 5.25
AI ain't taking over, don't worry folks. Had no idea Bill Bailey and Des Lynam were in it.
I trot back up to the main road for the next hourly bus, which dumps me not too far away at 'Halfway Bridge', then a decent walk up to Lodsworth where tick #5 is situated in the middle of nowhere like all good brewery taps .....
A frustrating experience at Langham Brewery Tap, Lodsworth (3096 / 5581) - the magic of my earlier part of the day dwindling fast as it fully clouds over. I have too long here in truth, so although our bearded fluffy Tim Walter host seems a good guy, he makes no effort to talk to me, despite being his only customer, and him looking bored enough to resort to a never-ending Sam Fender playlist, punctuated only by phonecalls asking if the shop is still open, what their hours are, what is the brewery up to etc etc. Yep, North Shields Low Lights Tavern seemed a distant memory at this point! I straddle a rickety bench when plusher seating was available, thoroughly enjoying my pint of Hip Hop but wondering if I'll need a Hip Op. I return for a half of something called First Swallow which is quite strange, and served in a glass resembling a trough, and I later overhear our main man telling a local that the hop experiment went awry. Presumably, still selling it cos there'll be enough idiots like me unwittingly trying it! This could've been a good 'pub' experience done right, but it lacked heart and soul.
Pub 1.5
Pints 2.25
People 1.25
Total 5
The ever reliable number 1 bus is on time. Five ticks done, but where would number six be?
The smart money appeared to be on a village called Henley or Hanley, a short connecting bus north of Midhurst in a Guildfordy direction. But looking at evening bus times, although I can get there, I can't get back.
So instead, I bus back in the other direction to Pulborough which has a connecting train to Arundel, where due to our wonderful alphabet, our first GBG pub is listed - you know I'm a sucker for that first alphabetical tick! Albrighton, Abbots Ann, Airdrie, love you all.
Bit of a walk into town, but worth it .....
.... because what today had been lacking was a bawdy town pub full of bawdy town characters, and REAL LIFE. And that is what I found at double roomed carpet beauty, the King's Arms, Arundel (3097 / 5582), it stinks a bit but in a reassuring 'unwashed for centuries' heritage odour. Some very interesting characters. Sad counselling tales of loss, death and mental health. Jokes about matchstick men, big bums and getting rat arsed. I'm thinking 'what the bloody hell is this music? It ain't Sam Fender' I Shazaam it, and it is a 1984 song called Obsession by Animotion. Sounds more like a fragrance. This pub being the pub it is, a passing bloke spots me looking confused, correctly guesses it is the song, and tells me it is a classic. As does half of TwXtter! Well who knew, never heard of it before. I was too busy enjoying Pigeon Street, King Rollo and He-Man in 1984 with my new hybrid Barnsley / Saffron Walden accent. "Ey up pal, by t'power of Greyyyskalllll!" I shrieked into a Fisher Price tape recorder. Anyway, that was my 1984, George Orwell can zip it. Beer is lame again here sadly - let's blame the weather, not West Sussex, as things would improve as the weather cooled down later in the week.
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