Generally, there are three ways that a location, or a specific area, ends up on my radar for a future pub trip. It could be a place that has a reputation for beer already and that, more often than not, has a well established pub scene that puts it firmly in my sights. Alternatively, it could be somewhere I've heard about via word of mouth, be that recommendations from friends or in writing in a magazine or similar publication. The third way is often a product of curiosity and usually involves me spotting somewhere that sounds interesting whilst I'm on my way to someplace else, quite often for another pub trip. The third way would prove useful in setting me on my way to my most recent excursion. Last year, whilst on the train to either Burton-on-Trent or Birmingham (I can't remember which), I happened to glance out of the window a short distance out from Derby station as the train glided into the next stop. It had stopped at a place called Willington. Whilst I waited for the train to continue on, I happened to notice a couple of pubs in the centre of the village, virtually opposite each other. Curiosity piqued, I later looked into this and discovered that, not only does Willington actually boast three pubs in close proximity to each other, but it also has a couple of neighbouring villages that also happen to have pubs.
Which is how, on a decidedly wet and dreary Thursday, I found myself braving the rain to investigate a trio of settlements in South Derbyshire. I had been hooked by the briefest sight of Willington's pubs and now I had formulated a plan. Willington is situated between Derby and Burton and accessible by both train and bus. Whilst it was the former that had given me the spark of imagination to investigate in the first place, trains to and from Willington are decidedly infrequent. Instead, I opted for the bus which, whilst still only departing once an hour, is better than the 2 or 3 hour wait that the trains would have afforded me. My plan was, on paper, fairly straightforward. I would visit Willington, the neighbouring village of Repton and the hamlet of Milton, which lies slightly further away, visiting pubs in each. I had decided that it made the best logistical sense to start furthest away and work my way back in, so that it was easier for me to time my return journey. The journey itself would be a fairly long one. A bus to Derby, followed by a bus from Derby that would take me through Willington and directly to Repton. Milton isn't served by public transport so I would walk from Repton to Milton and back and then eventually make my way back to Willington. In theory, this would be a decent day out, with lots to explore. Admittedly, I hadn't banked on the weather being a factor. The day of my trip was the Thursday before the weekend of Download Festival which, in itself, is notorious for angering the weather gods. I got the Red Arrow bus from Nottingham, arriving in Derby a few minutes before 11am. My bus, the V3, was scheduled to depart at 11.05 so I didn't have too long to wait. A few minutes later and I was on my way, the bus making its way through Derby and the associated suburbs, as the rain came down. In truth, it would be wet for virtually the whole day but I would do my best to not let it dampen my spirits. Approximately 30 minutes later, I disembarked the bus in the centre of the village of Repton. My initial travels were not yet complete however. The hamlet of Milton lies over a mile from Repton and, as I wasn't driving, the best way to get there was to walk. Determined, I headed down Brook End, a road adjacent to the bus stop. My walk would take me around half an hour. After a few minutes, I turned right onto Milton Road, which leads directly to the toponymous settlement. Whilst the opening stages of my walk were on standard pavements, which were well-maintained, as soon as I left Repton I found myself restricted to a single, narrow path, which runs parallel to the main road. In and of itself, this wouldn't have been an issue, but the edges of the path had become wild and overgrown and the rain had made everything sopping wet. The majority of the walk saw me traipsing through encroaching vegetation, getting wetter and wetter from the knees down. On a drier day, this would have been a much more pleasant walk. On this occasion, I was grateful when the path widened and the properly-appointed pavement had returned. This signalled my entrance to Milton, and I followed the curve of the road round in the direction of where I knew my first stop was located.
Milton is a hamlet 6 miles south-west of Derby and 1.5 miles east of Repton. Its population is around 200. It is thought to have been established by the Saxons between 500 and 550 AD. It is featured in the Domesday Book as Berewite of Middletune (Hamlet of Middle Farmstead). The Swan Inn is now the only pub after the Coach House reverted to a private dwelling in 2000 (foreshadowing). Nearby are Ingleby, Bretby, Foremark Reservoir and Foremarke Hall, home to Repton Preparatory School. I was very much in need of a fortifying beverage after my trek. Luckily, I soon found what I was looking for. On the left as I continued into Milton, I found the aforementioned Swan Inn.
Set on the roadside, The Swan is an imposing building that dates back more than 200 years. The single entrance leads into a small foyer, with doors leading left and right. A handwritten sign on the right hand door indicated that I should go left, and so I did. This leads through into a large, comfortable bar area. The servery is square and sits in the centre. Bare wood floors and traditional wooden furniture can be found here, along with a real fire to one side. Pew-style seating is located around the perimeter of the room, with a handful of high, upholstered stools. The ceiling is green-painted but also retains original beams. Photos of the local area are displayed on the walls. The additional room, accessed through the right hand door as you enter, leads to a separate restaurant area. The toilets are located through a door to the rear of the bar room. A small beer garden is to the rear and there is also an area of picnic benches to the front of the pub, perfect for outside drinking on much more pleasant days than the one I'd chosen to visit on. Upon entering, I was greeted by the very pleasant gentleman on duty who asked me if I'd walked far. Given my dishevelled and sodden appearance, it was no stroke of detective work to figure out that I'd braved the journey on foot. I explained that I'd come from Repton on foot, so not far at all. The small talk gave me the chance to peruse the beer options, for real ale can indeed be found here. A bank of 4 is on the bar. On the day, 3 of these were in use, offering a choice of Bass and two beers from Dancing Duck, namely Ay Up and the fantastically named Duck Norris. It really was a no-brainer going for such a well-named beer, especially as it was a beer that was new to me. I parted with the sum of £5.20 and was instructed to take a seat and my beer would be brought to me. There seemed to be some sort of slight dispense issue but this appeared to be quickly rectified as, by the time I'd been to the loo and come back, it had been placed on my chosen table, a pew adjacent to a window that looked out onto the street. I was directly facing the door to the bar, which gave me a prime viewing spot when a small group of walkers came in on what was apparently their first visit to a pub, possibly ever, given the faff they made of ordering or even asking for the location of the toilet. Back to the beer though and the Duck Norris had been a good choice. Named for the late martial arts champion and actor, this is a 4.6% pale ale. It boasts aromas of gooseberry and peach, and flavours of mango and passionfruit, backed by biscuity, mellow malt and a hoppy bitterness. Not only was it a much-needed thirst quencher, it's a delicious beer. As a new beer for me, it's quite the find. And so too is The Swan. Unpretentious and comfortable, it's the epitome of a decent, homely country pub with a warm welcome and traditional values, and inclusive of everyone. It's an oasis of calm on an inclement day and the perfect place to rejuvenate and dry off. Making the effort to reach the pub had certainly been worthwhile and I would suggest seeking it out in the event that you're ever in the area.
With my pint supped and the rain, for now, slackened off, I eyed up my return journey. Having briefly investigated two nearby public footpaths, I reasoned that I didn't want to venture into unknown territory in a place that I'd never been to before so quickly decided that my smartest route back into Repton would be to retrace my steps. The return journey seemed to go at a much a quicker pace, although I was quickly soaked through again by the saturated foliage. I once again reached Repton and this time, having reached the spot where I'd initially disembarked, I turned left and continued down High Street, deeper into the village. On my journey, I noticed several details that hinted at Repton's history. What is that history? Observe. Repton is a village and lies on the edge of the River Trent floodplain, approximately 5 miles (8 km) north of Swadlincote and about 5 miles (8 km) northeast of Burton upon Trent, close to the county boundary with Staffordshire. The population was recorded as 2,707 in the 2001 census and 2,867 in the 2011 census, with an estimated population of around 3,000 in 2021 based on Office for National Statistics small-area modelling.
Repton is notable for its Anglo-Saxon ecclesiastical heritage, including the site of Repton Abbey, the medieval Repton Priory, and the Anglo-Saxon St Wystan's Church. It is also the location of Repton School, one of England’s historic public schools. Archaeological evidence indicates human activity at Repton from the late Mesolithic and Neolithic periods. Cropmarks and enclosure features suggest continued occupation into the Roman and early Anglo-Saxon periods, reflecting long-term settlement in the Trent valley region. Christianity was reintroduced to the Midlands at Repton, where members of the Mercian royal family under Peada were baptised in AD 653. A double monastery under an abbess was subsequently established.
In 669 St Chad, Bishop of Mercia, transferred his episcopal see from Repton to Lichfield. Later, under King Offa, Lichfield briefly became an archiepiscopal centre, with Repton forming part of the ecclesiastical development that led to the short-lived archdiocese of Lichfield. At the centre of the village is the Church of England parish church dedicated to Wystan (or Wigstan) of Mercia. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle records that in 873–874 the Great Heathen Army overwintered at Repton. Archaeological investigations led by Martin and Birthe Biddle identified a D-shaped earthwork and associated burials, though interpretations of its scale and function have since been debated. Subsequent excavations by Cat Jarman and Mark Horton from 2015 onwards revealed additional structures and graves, including artefacts consistent with Viking activity. A mass burial containing at least 264 individuals has been interpreted as linked to the Viking presence, with artefacts and radiocarbon evidence supporting a late 9th-century date. An early account records that in the 17th century Thomas Walker uncovered a burial mound containing human remains, later associated with the same archaeological complex. Repton remained a predominantly rural settlement after the medieval period, with agriculture forming the basis of its economy. Parliamentary enclosure of Repton Common in 1766 formalised the redistribution of common land into private holdings. In the 19th century, improved regional infrastructure transformed connectivity, particularly following the development of river crossings and the opening of nearby railway facilities at Willington in 1839. These changes supported the expansion of Repton School, which developed significantly under Steuart Adolphus Pears. The historic core of Repton is now designated a conservation area reflecting its exceptional architectural and archaeological continuity.
Anyone who reads these entries or, let's face it, anyone who even knows me at all, knows that I do enjoy history so it was a real treat to be immersed in such an historic village. Truth be told, I hadn't known much about Repton's historical significance until I began looking into it properly so it came as a pleasant surprise. Another historic part of the village was in my sights now though. Continuing down High Street for a few more yards, I located my next stop, on the opposite side of the road. Next up was The Bulls Head.
This large, whitewashed building dates from the early 1800s, when it was used as a slaughterhouse and a butchery, an origin that has been recognised in the current name. It has been extensively modernised in recent years and leans into the cattle theming throughout. Entrance to the pub is through the car park and I soon found myself in a well-appointed interior. Beams and exposed brick create an ambience that reflects the building's age. A large, single room houses a large horseshoe-shaped bar with modern seating located around it. A larger seating area, which acts as a restaurant, is accessed through the main bar area. The decor is a good mix of modern and traditional, with a large bar counter, subtle, contemporary lighting, original fireplaces and lots of opened out areas that create more space. Fairy lights hang in areas of the back bar and there are bull-inspired neon signs at various points. The toilets are accessed via an alcove not far from the entrance. Whilst much of the seating is arranged around the bar, there are stools at the bar itself. The modern aspects of the pub give it a really chic and upmarket feel without it feeling too soulless. I was pleased to see that real ale is available here too. 6 handpulls occupy the bar and a trio of these were in use, offering Marston's Pedigree, Fullers London Pride and Dark Star Hophead. Having ascertained that it was OK to sit at the bar, I ordered a pint of Pride, which cost me £4.90. Just a note that payment here is by card only. I sat on a stool, slowly drip drying, whilst I took in the sights around me, not least the delicious looking food that was going out to various tables in quite substantial portions. The Bulls Head is certainly a different proposition to the Swan from earlier in the day but, all the same, it's a relaxing place with an easy-going vibe, at least in the middle of the day on a Thursday. The Pride was in decent condition too, which is always a result. I spent an enjoyable few minutes here, acclimatising to the village and recovering from the walk back.
Before long though, it was time to move on again. This time, I had nowhere near as far to go. My next stop kept me within Repton and was actually somewhere I'd passed earlier on, prior to opening time. Leaving the Bulls Head through a door to the side (the pub has a one-way system for entrance and exit) I retraced my steps back up the High Street until I reached a road on my right. This is Boot Hill, where you will find The Boot.
Brought back to life by the local Bespoke Pub Company, the Boot sits close to the centre of the village. Years of neglect were overturned by the current ownership, who undertook a considerable refurbishment and modernisation program that resurrected the pub into its current form. The front door leads through into the main bar area, where an L-shaped servery occupies space in the centre. Directly next to this is a public bar space with wooden tables and chairs, some banquette seating, and high tables in the centre of the room. To the right as you enter, a larger, longer space is primarily used for dining. The decor here is bright and modern. Fun slogans and signs are displayed on the walls, alongside contemporary artwork. The flooring is largely bare wood but there are areas of tiling around the bar. The toilets are located to the rear of the bar room, where there is also a rear door that leads to the car park but can also be used as an entrance. When the pub originally opened, a microbrewery, the aptly named Boot Beer, was installed in a building to the rear of the pub. The pub still serves a couple of these ales regularly, alongside changing guests. My arrival at The Boot coincided with the presence of a wedding party, fresh from the ceremony. Once I'd eventually squeezed through and made my apologies, I was confronted with 7 handpulls, 6 of which were in use. Alongside Clodhopper and Boot Bitter from Boot Beer, there was also Bass, Red Dog Ales Pine Strike and Green Duck Immortal, with the final pump reserved for Three Cats cider. Following a moment's perusal and a brief chat with a regular who was perched at the bar, during which we discussed the weather, I made my choice. Eschewing the local beers, I instead went for the Pine Strike (4.6%), from Nottingham based Red Dog Ales, a brewery that share space and kit with Lenton Lane Brewery. This cost £5.20. I moved away from the bar and sat at a high table, giving the wedding party space and allowing myself more room. I could immediately see why the happy couple had chosen this place for their post-nuptials drinks. The Boot is a very nice pub indeed. As well as being bright and welcoming, it has a real quirky personality about it. Fair play to the Bespoke Pub Company for creating a place that makes you want to stay for a long time. This is actually the sister pub to a couple of others in the local area so they're doing something very right. This honestly is a gem of a place, helped by the quality of the beer. The Pine Strike was sensational. It's a pale ale, brewed with Mosaic and Amarillo hops. This packs the beer with fruity and earthy notes and leads to a smooth, piney finish. It's an absolute winner. As is The Boot. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to find but I'd stumbled onto a cracking pub. It's a completely different beast to the Bulls Head but all the better for it.
I left the Boot reluctantly and through the back door. My next intended stop wasn't too far away though. Heading back up the main road towards the cross at the village centre, I took a left onto Burton Road. Tucked slightly away from the road is the Red Lion.
Perturbed but not too disheartened, I changed my plans. Serendipitously, being unable to visit the Red Lion meant that I was only a few minutes away from the next bus back to Willington, which was definitely a tempting option and would have saved me the walk, which had been my original plan. I used the time to make the most of the local bus shelter and had my lunch whilst I waited for the bus. Soon enough, my carriage awaited and I was on my way back to Willington, the final stop on this tour. Willington is a village. The 2001 Census recorded a parish population of 2,604, increasing to 2,862 at the 2011 Census. The 2021 Census recorded a population of 3,277 incorporating the expanded Mercia Marina and full parish boundary.
The toponym Willington is derived from the Old English tun (homestead or farm) among the willows. In the Domesday Book, the village is called Willetune or Willentune, and the land was held by Ralph FitzHubert and was an agricultural village on the flood plain of the Trent. The village is recorded as Wilintun in about 1150 and as Wyliton in 1230. Willington, in the hundred of Morleston and Litchurch, comprised two estates as recorded in the Domesday Book of 1086, one held by the king in demesne, the other by Ralph FitzHubert. King Henry II (1154–1189) gave a manor in Willington to Burton Abbey. This estate was held in 1539 from Burton Abbey by George Finderne, Esquire. John Meynell, Esquire, died seised of it in 1561 and it was sold in 1760 by his descendant Hugo Meynell, Esq. to Sir Henry Harpur, 6th Baronet (1739–1789), the father of Sir Henry Crewe, 7th Baronet (1763–1819) who was the proprietor in 1817. No remains survive of the Meynell's manor house. The other manor appears to have been held from FitzHubert by the de Willington family, which took its name from the manor. It appears to have given this manor together with the advowson of the church to Repton Abbey, to whom the tithes were appropriated in 1223. The de Willingtons were later seated at Yate and Sandhurst in Gloucestershire, and later at Umberleigh in Devon. In about 1554 William Westcote conveyed this manor to Sir John Port (d.1557), founder of Repton School and of the hospital at Etwall, and in 1817 it continued to form part of the estate belonging to those foundations, which also held the tithes and advowson of the vicarage.
In the 17th century Willington became the highest navigable port on the Trent. It first began to grow from a population of 477 with the construction of the Trent and Mersey Canal in 1777, the same year Bass beer in Burton was started, at which time it became a small inland port and a village with four public houses: the Railway (which was later demolished), the Rising Sun, the Green Man and the Green Dragon (now just called The Dragon), all selling locally brewed beers from Burton upon Trent for the many Irish canal navvies. The railway was built in 1838, the railway station being called Repton and Willington railway station and brought the scholars to nearby Repton School. The main-line station was closed in 1964 but a new station was opened in the 1990s as part of the (incomplete) Ivanhoe Line project to link Leicester and Burton-on-Trent and runs mainline trains to Derby, Birmingham and beyond. The village's population increased to 708 by 1940. Trentside Cottage, Bargate Lane is the oldest cottage in the village. A 200-year-old Cedar of Lebanon lies on the site of the now-demolished Potlock's Farm on Twyford Road in the village. The bridge over the Trent was opened on 7 August 1839, being the only one between Swarkestone and Burton. To commemorate the centenary of the abolishing of the bridge toll in 1898, an annual raft race has been held since 1998 from nearby Newton Solney along the River Trent to Willington's bridge. In 1995 Willington railway station was re-opened at a cost of £565,000 funded by the EU. Some scenes from the 2018 film "Get Gone" were filmed at Willington train station.
Mere minutes after departing Repton, I was disembarking at Willington. I deliberately got off the bus just outside the village centre, a few yards from where the railway viaduct crosses the main road. I had a trio of pubs left to visit, all close to each other. Doing so would close the circle that opened when first I espied said pubs from a train window all those months ago. Heading under the viaduct, I emerged at a traffic island that consists of a set of double roundabouts, effectively the central point of this small village. Taking a right, I made my way up The Green. I crossed over and headed towards the first of two pubs that are virtually next door to each other. First up, The Dragon.
Accessed by crossing the large car park, The Dragon, formerly known as the Green Dragon, dates back well over 150 years and owes its presence to the construction of the Trent & Mersey Canal. It was originally constructed to provide refreshment for the workers building the canal in the 18th century. A renovation in 2011 added a new seating area to the rear with views over the canal. The pub was also recently extended into the neighbouring cottage to create a new dining area. Inside, the pub is large and spacious, with bare wood flooring and some tiled areas. Original beams remain in situ and these have been whitewashed, which contrasts nicely with the green painted walls. A long bar counter, in wood and reclaimed brick, runs along one part of the wall. Seating is primarily wooden tables and chairs, alongside some higher stools. The internal layout is one of several smaller areas, adding intimacy and comfort in what is otherwise a fairly open plan layout. An original fireplace sits near the entrance and there is a restaurant area to the rear. It's worth noting that the toilets are up two flights of stairs, accessed through a door near the bar. The Dragon is a sister pub to The Boot at Repton and so some of the aesthetic remains the same, although the The Boot, being smaller, has a cosier feel. Unsurprisingly, real ale features here too. 7 handpulls take up space on the bar. On the day, 6 of these were in use, with a choice between Boot Brew Boot Bitter and Clodhopper again, as well as Bass, Morland's Old Session Hen, Green Duck Meltdown and Little The Panther. For a moment, I considered giving one of the local options a go but instead I opted for the Meltdown (4.6%) from Stourbridge based Green Duck. A pint set me back £5.10 and I retreated to a quiet high table not far from the bar. Given The Dragon's associations with The Boot, I was surprised at how different it felt. Where The Boot felt cosy and intimate, The Dragon felt comfortable and welcoming in a less obvious way. Still, I was made to feel like I belonged and it's definitely a very nice place. The beer wasn't half bad either. Meltdown is a pale ale, brewed with Bru-1. This provides big flavours of pineapple. The addition of Amarillo hops balances this with distinctive orange tones. It's a beer worth seeking out, from a brewery that I'm gradually becoming more accustomed to. I enjoyed my time at The Dragon, despite the almighty climb to the gents which is akin to the lengths you normally have to go to to find the loos at a certain budget pub chain. Still, as village pubs go, you can certainly do much worse.
A short distance back down The Green was all that was needed now as my next stop is a literal stone's throw away. Leaving The Dragon behind me, my attentions now turned to the Rising Sun.
Originally three houses known as Rising Sun Cottages, this building became one structure in 1940 when it was converted to a pub. Despite appearing fairly large from the outside, the pub footprint itself is relatively small, occupying the smaller part of the structure, visible on the left in the photo above. A newly refurbished restaurant occupies the adjoining part of the building. Inside, a single long room houses a bar to the right, with seating opposite. At the end of the room is a games area with a pool table and dartboard. This area has bare wood floors, with the main bar space floored in terracotta tiling. The furniture is mostly high round tables with stools although there are high-backed stools at the bar and an upholstered settle adjacent to the entrance. The toilets are through a door between the two sections. A piano sits at the end of the bar and there are various amplifiers arranged along one wall. Without realising, I'd discovered a music pub. Framed photos of music legends and famous album covers take pride of place on the walls. The in-house system was tuned to Planet Rock radio. I had a feeling I'd like this place. A glance at the bar confirmed as much, with a bank of 3 in plain sight. The options before me were Pedigree, Wainwright Gold and Brains Rev James. It had been ages since I'd had Rev James so it was a no brainer to give it a go here, at the acceptable price of £5 for a pint. I took a seat at the junction of the bar and games rooms and took in my surroundings a bit more. The football World Cup would start that evening, and is in progress as I type, so there were flags of the competing nations draped along the ceiling. Before long, the landlord, who had served me, engaged me in conversation, asking where I was visiting from and what I did for a job. We had a really good natter about the current hardships facing hospitality, the difficulties of the job and the joys that come with it. It really was a good chat and he was a very pleasant man who seemed genuinely interested in what I thought about the state of the industry and also in my opinions of the pubs I'd already visited. He also confirmed that the Red Lion in Repton sometimes opens later in the day and that it is the best pub in the village. Now he tells me! The Rising Sun had turned out to be a great find! I was genuinely surprised to find such a homely and welcoming pub, with an emphasis on decent music and great beer. And the beer was great, that's for sure. The Rev James was in fantastic condition, reiterating for me that it's a beer that I need to drink more often. I thoroughly enjoyed my time here, chatting shop in a no-frills, down-to-earth boozer, with a landlord who embodies his establishment to a tee.
I had one stop left now and, once again, I had no virtually no distance to travel to get there. It sits opposite the Rising Sun, adjacent to the twin traffic islands. Last on the list, the Green Man.
The only pub in Willington, and the sole pub of the day, to feature in the 2026 Good Beer Guide, the Green Man has recently benefited from a substantial refurbishment and is in the process of changing management, with a long-serving member of staff set to take the helm. The entrance leads directly into the bar area. The bar counter is roughly in the middle of the pub, with a bar area immediately in front and a lounge area to one side. The bar section is bare wood, with traditional wooden furniture. The more comfortable lounge is carpeted and features upholstered banquette seating. The whitewashed ceiling includes original beams. TVs can be found throughout the pub, usually showing sport and there is also a large garden to the rear with some partly covered seating. The internal walls of the pub are decorated with local history photos as well as representations of the pagan nature spirit from which the pub gets its name. The Green Man was fairly busy when I arrived, and the rain had started again, just in case I was in any doubt as to whether I could get any wetter. Still, there was still plenty of seating available and, more importantly, plenty of room to peruse the bar options. There are 6 handpulls here and, at the time of my visit, 4 of these were being used, offering a choice between Bass, Pedigree, Theakston Lightfoot and St. Austell Tribute. My last encounter with Lightfoot had been a good one so I gave it another go here. This would prove to be the cheapest pint of the day, costing £4.60. I chose to take a seat in the lounge to enjoy my pint and also to better absorb the surroundings in my final pub of the day. It's easy to see why the Green Man has a good beer reputation. The Lightfoot was a very tasty drop. More than that, the pub has a real community vibe, which is more important than ever in a time of such upheaval for pubs. It's especially important in smaller communities that people have a place where they can go, be themselves, see people and interact outside of their homes. It seems that the Green Man offers all of that and more in abundance. I felt welcome and it quickly became clear that the locals very much enjoy spending their time here. It's always a good sign when people return to the same pub again and again. The Green Man is a perfect example of a village pub that puts its community first. I was glad I'd had the time to come here. Apart from anything else, this seems to be a pub that truly cares and it appears to be in very safe hands for its next chapter.
And that, ultimately, would be that. I downed the last drops of my delicious pint of Lightfoot and departed, heading back out into the drizzle. The bus stop I needed is right outside the pub and it did at least have a shelter so I was drier than I would have been when the bus arrived and conveyed me back to Derby, before I headed back to Nottingham the way I had come. With my return journey time being over an hour in total, I had much time to consider how my day had gone and whether my feet would ever be dry again. My trip had definitely been worth it. Aside from the appalling weather, the wet feet and one closed pub, I had very much enjoyed my excursion to a hitherto unexplored (by me) corner of Derbyshire. The villages, located as they are between Derby and Burton, or thereabouts, all have their own unique charms and this has certainly spilled over into their pubs. What is always nice is seeing village pubs relatively unaffected by urban sprawl and unswayed by the temptation to be like the pubs in larger towns. There is a quaintness, a cosiness and a defined character about village pubs that cannot be replicated and should not be diluted. If this trip taught me anything, other than to invest in waterproof shoes, it's that we must protect village pubs with everything we've got. They're more than just a place to have a beer after a long walk. For some, probably for most, they're more than that. They're a beacon, a lifeline, a sanctuary and, in a time of increasingly volatile real world discourse, they are, and should be, a safe space.
Pub of the Day: The Green Man, Willington. A true community pub with its heart in the right place
Honourable Mention: The Swan, Milton. Lovely, comfortable pub that's perfect for a post-walk pint.
Beer of the Day: Red Dog Ales - Pine Strike. Absolutely superb.
Biggest Surprise: Rising Sun, Willington. Good beer, good music and a very pleasant landlord. Worth a visit.
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