Sunday, April 11, 2010

The Anchor Inn at Exbridge.


This is Kiwi - the resident parrot at the pub where we had lunch. He's shy with strangers but talks when he feels like it.


Exmoor has it's own Robin Hood -Tom Faggus. Click to read

In spite of the high bank the pub is occasionally flooded

The other side of the bridge in April - the photos in Friday's post were taken last August.
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17 comments:

Jimmy Bastard said...

If the truth be told, is there no a little Tom Faggus in each of us?

Leah said...

I love all the photos of the riverbanks--wish I could walk there.

so what does the parrot say when he speaks?

Pat said...

Jimmy: I'd like to think I had the wit to get the horse shod backwards:)

Leah: I got into conversation with a sweet little boy who was fascinated by the parrot and all I can remember him telling me the parrot could say was 'Cool!'
The parrot just eyed me as I talked to him and the minute I left came out wit a stream of unintelligible stuff which sounded a lot more verbose than 'cool'.

R. Sherman said...

Seeing the bridge plus your reference to Robin Hood, I flashed on the part of the story where Little John beats Robin at a stream crossing and tosses him into the river.

You English have strange customs.

:)

Cheers.

Eryl Shields said...

I can't believe they shot the horse!

Pat said...

Randall: but you like us real;y don't you?

Eryl: without a trial! Ruthless lot in the West country. Think of the ones who shone lights so that ships would founder on the rocks so they could pillage.

Jen said...

I, too, am appalled that they shot the horse!!!!

angryparsnip said...

Oh how I want to sit outside with a drink... Lovely
but they shot the horse ! ! !

Kevin Musgrove said...

It's been far too long since I've been down them there parts. Ta for the reminder Pat!

Pat said...

Jen and Parsnip: the phrase 'They shoot horses don't they?' occurred to me so I looked up the origin:
A former bouncer in a marathon dance hall, Horace McCoy, titled his first novel, published in 1935, ''They Shoot Horses, Don't They?'' Its theme was defeatism in life's long dance, its style hard-boiled; its plot centered on the killing of a marathon dancer, a hopeless dere-lict, by her partner, out of what the murderer insisted was kindness, as ''the only way to put her out of her misery.''

Kevin: Are you familiar with this part of Somerset? Countless people came here as children for hols.

debra said...

such a beautiful place!

kenju said...

Such lovely photos - the arched bridge is wonderful!!

Gadjo Dilo said...

Hmm, pretty. Has the parrot been taught to say anything useful, such as "Hey, watch out, the pub's about to be flooded!"?

lom said...

poor Winnie!

Pat said...

Debra: it's off the beaten track and we tend to forget about it.

Judy: I'm glad you like it;)

Gadjo: maybe he has different ways of saying 'Cool' which his owners can interpret to mean 'all is well.' or 'Yikes the river's up! Take to the hills!'

LOM: I expect that's what she did. Whinny:)

Kevin Musgrove said...

A friend lived down that way for a few years. Nearly less after we almost collided with a herd of cows one foggy night on the moors.

Pat said...

Kevin: foggy night on the moors - did you see the Baskerville hound?
BTW - in case you don't get my email my comments are being bounced back from Helminthedale and I'm not using foul language or anything.