I visit a Devon pub with a Thai flavour and the Beer Spill Rule (BSR) is ignored

We cycled home on the footpath next to the River Taw in the late-May dusk with bats circling overhead and moths flickering past our ears. What finer way to end an evening of serious journalism than with a straight empty path unfolding before you at speed under the powerful glare of a bicycle headlight in the North Devon countryside?

And the salty estuary breeze drying the spilled beer on your clothes....

A couple of hours earlier, we had arrived at the George Hotel in Braunton, where it had been a pleasant surprise to find half-a-dozen people who were originally from Thailand standing in the airy bar. In fact, it was a pleasant surprise to find a half-a-dozen people standing at a bar in North Devon on a midweek night, full stop, given some of the "Mary Celeste" alehouses I have visited and walked by during my odyssey in recent months.

But the Thais were workers, not customers; in common with a number of public houses, the George, which dominates a corner on the main road through the centre of Braunton, is heavily marketing its food, in this case, from Thailand, and it has clearly decided to do so as authentically as possible.

And this seems to be the trend at the moment: it's either "traditional English grub" or Asian cooking, and quite often a mixture of the two. (A smartypants - don't know any of them! - would here point out that what we call "Indian" food in England is in fact an English version of some types of Indian food which would be unrecognizable to the majority of the millions of people in that nation. Yes, but so what? My belly is still not convinced that real ale and curry are the best of companions, no matter how "authentic" it is).

I do love the spicy complexities, and subtleties, of Thai food and living in one of the least ethnically-diverse corners of the wild westcountry, it is always good to see and meet people from other countries and cultures. Unfortunately, we had already eaten, so did not sample the menu, although I am told by a reliable source it is good and also includes traditional English dishes, or examples of "fayre", as pubs will insist on calling them.

Apart from the Thai kitchen and bar staff, there were only four other punters and because the George is a big pub, it did feel a bit empty. I ordered a pint of the ubiquitous Tribute (very good) and we played a game of pool.

The George, an elegant inn which was built in 1929, has been recently refurbished. There are cushions on leathery sofas, a large screen showing sport, and those large-stems-in-vases things (you know, twigs and stuff) which seem so popular these days.

The bar room at the corner of the pub still has a pleasantly wooden old-fashioned feel, but there is a certain feeling of the place being modernised. I guess the pub is partly in line with the Victorian pub era, when homely chintz was the order of the day. I love those chaotic-looking Victorian pubs, with their collections of moths in frames and pictures of cricket players sporting handlebar moustaches; few of them have survived the corporate onslaught of the pubcos since the 1960s, even if bad facsimiles seem to be on every high street in the queendom. The men's lavs at the George, however, were pleasingly chipped and tatty, and very RED. I am disappointed to say there were plastic windowframes at the rear of the building.

Every now and then one of the Thai kitchen staff would emerge from the back room and anxiously check the football scores on the big screen. My friend sparked up a conversation; the chef didn't seem to speak much English but he knew which team he wanted to win (I'll give you a clue: they're from Manchester and they win everything).

While my friend and I were deciding once and for all that test cricket was the best sport because it is the most absurd sport, someone accidentally knocked over my friend's almost-full pint. The spiller apologised, not least for soaking me, but then did not offer to buy a replacement.

Now. I could write you 500 words on the finer details of pub culture and behaviour and the rights and wrongs of beer spillage, apologies, replacement pints and so on, but I always thought it was a given that you at least offer to buy a replacement, even if that offer is graciously refused.

But there was no offer. And that's just not cricket.

The George Hotel, Braunton

Adam's Ales rating: 3 out of 5

Drink this: Tribute