The bridge which was not a bridge

At one point last week, happening to be in a place called Moretonhampstead, not far from where BH's mother did time as a nurse during the second war, we thought to pay a visit to a place called Fingle Bridge, known to us vaguely as a Tier I beauty spot. It also sported a public house, two hill forts (one of which had received the Golden Spade accolade in 2007 from one of the digging programs on television), Castle Drogo a short way up the river and a famous public house in Drewsteignton, a little to the north.

Seeing a sprinkling of yellow roads on our usually trusty OS map, we just headed north from Moretonhampstead, and rapidly got ensnared in a maze of what may once have been roads but which were now little more than farm tracks. Much grass growing in the middle of them. Many substantial pot holes to either side of the grass. Most definitely single track. The only good thing was that the flailing tractor had been through fairly recently, cutting the hedges back off the road.

We pushed on, with many unpleasant noises coming from underneath the car. Worried lest we meet anyone, which would have put us in an even bigger pickle. As it happened, we passed just one car, just as we were going past one of the very few passing places. Or rather a place where one could reasonably ride up on the grass verge.

I suppose my big mistake was thinking that if you had a bridge across a river running east and west with vehicular access from the north, you would have vehicular access from the south. Without actually thinking about it properly or looking more carefully at the map. BH was tempted by what turned out to be the by-way down to the bridge, but I wasn't keen and settled for a detour around somewhere called Clifford Bridge, just off the right hand edge of the snap above. The yellow roads were quite bad enough, without taking a chance on roads with no colour at all.

Many potholes later, we hung a left around Prestonbury Castle (the one with the Golden Spade) and found ourselves in the quite busy car park for Fingle Bridge and the associated public house. The bridge was one of those ancient bridges, just about wide enough for a modern wheel barrow, with lots of those little triangular passing places for pedestrians to dip into when they meet one of said wheel barrows. Certainly not wide enough for even our modest vehicle.

The noises from underneath the car continued for some time, but eventually we got back to London without incident. Maybe I will get our garage to take a look underneath sometime, just to be on the safe side.

In the meantime, we ponder about a fair way to apportion the costs of road maintenance in such places. Devon must have hundreds of miles of such roads to look after - and is it fair for the looking after to come out of the general rate? Does the public house get an especially enhanced business rate in the interests of equity? After all, the place must be something of a gold mine in the summer, even if it only gets the traffic from the north.

Reference 1: https://psmv2.blogspot.com/2015/04/drogo-4.html. Castle Drogo being a fake castle which we have visited occasionally in the past. The one noticed here seemingly the most recent. As far as one can tell from gmaps (50.697643, -3.807436), the roof was still temporary last year, five years later.

Reference 2: https://www.thedrewearms.co.uk/. A very historical house, with a grade from the heritage people. One which I think we have eaten in, despite the distance from Exeter, which would have been the jumping off point. One which we were told had gone under, and it does turn up on an undated entry on an agent's web site. Yours for £22,000 a year. So if one was open 365 days a year and made £1 gross profit on each pint, the profit from first 60 pints sold each day would need to be put in the cocoa tin used for the rent money. Let's hope prospective purchasers take a good look at the accounts before taking the plunge.

Reference 3: https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/fingle-bridge. From which I learn that the proper name for this sort of bridge is a pack-horse bridge. Which fits.