It was on our second day that everything clicked into place. Mr Smith and I had just returned from a bracing tramp around rolling Wiltshire fields and were cold and tired. Pushing open the doors to the Bradley Hare, we spotted two squishy chairs sitting in a puddle of sunshine, the crackling wood-burning stove within toe’s reach.
That will do nicely, we thought, and settled in for the afternoon.
That lazy afternoon in that warm, sunshine-filled pub, is what made this spot so very appealing, so very worth a lazy few days. We sat, basking, sharing first a pot of English breakfast tea and then graduating to freshly-mixed cocktails. We chatted, browsed the papers, played a game of chess and felt the most relaxed we’d felt in months.
The Bradley Hare does exactly what a good local pub should do. Opened during the final, confusing dregs of the pandemic in 2021, this pub with rooms (set in the village of Maiden Bradley on the Duke of Somerset’s estate) looks newish but lived in; artfully styled but well loved. The well-loved bit is thanks to the locals, of which it seems to have a very healthy following.
During our two-day, mid-week stay, it was always busy, no matter the time of day or night: with local ladies lunching, with blokes and their dogs propping up the bar, with couples reading by the fire, with young parents enjoying a peaceful drink while the baby slept.
It’s the pub that’s the heart of the place, and the whole village by all accounts, with three lovely rooms to it: a marginally more formal dining room, with pistachio walls and colourful art; a second, relaxed bar space which seems to lap up the locals; and a third connected ‘snug’ area, with comfy chairs and the chess table.
Ben Jones, who runs the place, came from Babington House, in just-across-the-border Somerset, and that easy-breezy, kick-off-your-shoes vibe is evident here, if on a more modest scale.
The bedrooms, by the way, are simple and comfortable, designed by James Thurstan Waterworth, the former European design director of Soho House. Take your pick from those in the main house, which have seagrass flooring, 19th-century antiques and contemporary art on the walls, or across the courtyard, where they have big freestanding baths and window seats.
Set right in a quiet, rural village, you can get a decent walk within five paces of the front door. There’s a handy walkers map just to the left of the pub, right next to the peculiar help-yourself milk station, which, we were told, are quite common in these parts. We headed out across the fields, the sky blue and the trees alive with birds, and didn’t see another soul for an hour.
Lovely as it all is, the reason people come here is to explore. And explore we did, first with a 20-minute drive to the gorgeous village of Bruton, with its smart shops and the famous Hauser & Wirth gallery, a complex of converted barns that now house cutting-edge art exhibitions, as well as a restaurant and (pricey) farm shop.
We strolled around the lovely, rambling gardens, designed by Piet Oudolf, and poked about the bean-shaped pavilion by Smiljan Radić, before heading to the village itself for a mooch about the shops (I can highly recommend the truffled cheddar at the Godminster Farm Shop).
We wandered about the village of Frome, too, to nose about the antique shops and have a slap-up lunch at the colourful, cheap-and-cheerful River House. Back in Bruton, dinner was in the less cheap but no less cheerful At The Chapel, a celebrated restaurant with rooms located in – you’ve guessed it – a converted 19th century chapel, with a soaring dining room, minimalist design and the kind of menu where you want to order everything. We opted for the West Country charcuterie board, Tuscan fish stew, squash and Westcombe ricotta ravioli, and an enormous chargrilled steak with watercress.
The food was, if anything, even better at the Bradley Hare on our second evening, where a deliciously spring-like dish of tenderstem broccoli with lemony ewe’s curd and dukkah (me) and devilled kidneys on toast (him) was followed by a very moreish burger with bone marrow mayo (both of us), all served by lovely, fresh-faced staff who kept trying to refill our glasses.
There’s a strong nod towards sustainability here, too, with a menu that’s big on all things local and seasonal. The kitchen works closely with the Maiden Bradley Community allotment to source just-picked veg and herbs, and they’re working towards zero-waste dining where nothing is wasted.
The thing I’ll remember the most, though, is that afternoon in the pub. A crackling fire, delicious drinks, art on the walls and locals by the bar, all wrapped in glorious Somerset countryside: a good local pub doing exactly what a good local pub should do.
Find out more about the Bradley Hare or explore our complete collection of pubs with rooms
Francisca Kellett is the former travel editor of Tatler, and contributes regularly to the travel pages of The Times, The Telegraph, The Financial Times, National Geographic Traveller and Luxx. She is also the co-founder of Mundi & Co: a content agency for sustainable, luxury travel brands.
All photography by Hannah Dace