England part IX: Beer

There is a village in southern Devon named Beer. 'tis true. The name has nothing to do with the beverage, it is derived from Anglo Saxon "bearu", meaning "grove". Being the mature, responsible traveler that I am, I naturally took lots of pictures of otherwise mundane places while giggling like a loon.

All Beer pics here (snort).

Well, I hear they use spirits to preserve stuff, so...


Oh, I bet they know how to be social...


Notice the angle of the sign. It's as if it's been put up by a drunk man.


Oh, I bet it's a long hill. Especially when you're coming from the Beer social club.


Here they haven't even bothered with the "social" bit.


An ocean full of beer!


I wonder how they're able to read the addresses?


Strictly for medicinal purposes, you know.


Selling nothing but beer... and pretzels.


Even the church is in on this drunken revelry.


"Clap" is slang for gonorrhea. I know, I'm grasping at straws here.


This building is the Old Bakery, a little ways outside Beer. It's a 200+ years old building which hosts a working bakery. There's also a metal forge and a mill in the grounds. The National Trust owns it these days.