Uncle Tom Cobley and all

The Tom Cobley Tavern in Devon, England is a real magnet for beer lovers. Adrian Tierney-Jones went for a pint (or two)

If you’re going to have an awardwinning pub then a taste for the ale is surely a requirement. How on earth can you resist a well-kept, sprightly, cool glass of the local beer if you don’t drink anything stronger than tea?

However, that’s exactly the tipple of Roger Cudlip who is landlord at the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA’s) National Pub of the Year 2006.

When he took over the Tom Cobley in the edge-of-Dartmoor village of Spreyton, Devon in 2003, he decided to stop drinking. “I was 23 stone and diagnosed as diabetic,” he tells me with a grin. “I was a 15-pints-a-night man, but when I signed for the pub I decided to give it up.” He pauses and I ask him what he used to drink. “Carlsberg and Stella,” he laughs.

Cudlip is a local man who used to run the butcher’s shop in the neighbouring village of North Tawton. This part of North Devon is agricultural heartland, hit hard during foot and mouth in 2001.

The pubs were equally pulverised as well. I know of one pub where the licensees took over in January and a week later they had no trade. Still, they’re a resilient lot. Perhaps that’s why gastropubs are a rare breed, though a fair share of boozers often have a League of Gentlemen feel about them when you walk in, even if you come from the next village.

However, forget Royston Vasey when you enter the Tom Cobley. This is a friendly place. On the morning I visit, there’s a bustling feel to things as opening time hoves into view: the cleaner issues forth with the Dyson, glasses .....

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By Adrian Tierney-Jones

Section : Spotlight

Page number : 23