It is a logical incongruity: how can it be the Pub With No Name, when that’s it? Paradoxes abound. Besides, it’s actually the White Horse, only no one calls it that.
The pub is a beauty: a white-fronted, 17th-century place, joyfully crooked. Inside it is all wooden beams and ironwork, and a floor by turns wooden, stone-flagged, and here and there thickly carpeted. You come to burrow into leather armchairs and cosy up by the fire — there are fireplaces all over, and candles too. It sits in isolation, far from everywhere, and so its job is to be a beacon. And to comfort.
The best place to be comforted is in the Edward Thomas bar, named after the Adlestrop poet, who wrote here. In the winter, diners sit with faces warmed by steaming pies. A good run of beer is offered. Nothing is missing. Not even a name.
Priors Dean, Petersfield, Hanmpshire, thepubwithnoname.uk
