A Light in the Middle of Nowhere: Six Lone Inns Worth the Detour

There is a particular kind of pub that exists for no other reason than the fact that people need it. It is not in a village, it does not have a tasting menu, and its car park is more likely to be a muddy verge than a neatly marked bay. It stands at a crossroads, on a moor, or at the end of a single-track lane, and it is all the better for it.

This is not a list of gastropubs with a long drive attached. These are ordinary inns in extraordinary places: well-worn, slightly eccentric, and often run by people who know exactly how far you have come. The beer is kept well, the menu is short, and the fire is usually on. What follows are six favourites, with how to reach them by car or rail, and what to order when you get there.

A word before you set off: rural pubs keep rural hours. Check opening times before you commit to a long detour, especially outside summer and at lunchtime midweek. Phone ahead if you are relying on food. Take a torch, a paper map, and a designated driver. The pub is the reward, not a quick stop on the way to somewhere else.

Tan Hill Inn, North Yorkshire

Tan Hill sits on the moors above Swaledale at 1,732 feet, and it has the cheerful distinction of being the highest pub in Britain. There is no village, just the inn, a few outbuildings, and a great deal of sky. On a clear day the view goes on for miles; in winter the snow can make the last few miles interesting.

The nearest station is Kirkby Stephen on the Settle to Carlisle line, but this is not a station-to-pub stroll unless you are a committed walker. A taxi is the sensible option, or drive up from the A66 or the B6270. The lanes are narrow, steep in places, and best taken slowly.

Order a pint of local bitter and whatever pie is on. This is not the place for a deconstructed dessert. Sit near the fire, listen to the wind, and remember that the pub was built for drovers and lead miners long before it was a curiosity for day-trippers.

The Old Forge, Inverie, Knoydart

Knoydart has no road connection to the rest of mainland Britain, which makes The Old Forge a genuine contender for the most remote pub in the country. It sits in Inverie, a small settlement on the peninsula, and the journey is part of the experience rather than an inconvenience to be endured.

Take the train to Mallaig on the West Highland Line, then the ferry across to Inverie. The crossing is short but the change of pace is immediate. From the pier it is a short walk to the pub. Serious walkers can come in overland from Kinloch Hourn, but that is a full day and should be planned properly.

Order seafood if it is on, or venison, and a local ale. The pub is small, busy in season, and deeply practical: boots by the door, wet coats on hooks, and a menu that depends on what has come in. Book accommodation if you are staying, because the last ferry does not wait for a second pint.

Kirkstone Pass Inn, Cumbria

The Kirkstone Pass Inn stands at 1,489 feet on the A592 between Windermere and Ullswater. There is no village around it, only the road, the fell, and the weather. It is the kind of place where a simple bowl of soup feels like a major event.

The nearest station is Windermere, from where a bus or taxi can take you up the pass. By car, approach from Ambleside or from the Ullswater side and enjoy the climb. In ice and snow, check conditions before setting out; the pass can be closed, and the pub is not worth a stranded evening.

Order soup, a sandwich, and a pint of something local. Do not overthink it. The pleasure here is sitting at a window while the clouds move across the fells and knowing that you do not have to be anywhere quickly.

The Half Moon Inn, Llanthony

The Half Moon sits beside the ruins of Llanthony Priory in the Black Mountains, a place that feels further from a town than the map suggests. There is no village to speak of, just the priory, the inn, and the hills. It is remote without being bleak, and the walk in from the valley is lovely.

The nearest station is Abergavenny. From there, take a taxi or walk a section of the Offa's Dyke Path if you are feeling energetic. By car, the lane down to Llanthony is narrow and hedged, so take your time and be ready to reverse.

Order a local ale and a simple pub lunch. The Half Moon is not trying to be a destination restaurant; it is a place to eat, drink, and dry out. Check opening hours, especially in winter, and do not assume that a remote pub will be open simply because you have made the effort.

The Moorcock Inn, Widdop

The Moorcock Inn stands alone on the moors above Hebden Bridge, at Widdop, where the road seems to run out of ideas and the pub carries on regardless. It is a proper moorland inn: stone walls, low ceilings, and a sense that the weather outside is someone else's problem.

The nearest station is Hebden Bridge. From there it is a taxi ride or a long walk across the moors, roughly six miles, which is best saved for a dry day with a map. By car, the lanes from Hebden Bridge or Todmorden are narrow and steep in places, so avoid rushing.

Order a pie and a pint. The menu is not the point; the room is. In winter, the fire and the low beams do most of the work. In summer, sit outside and watch the moor change colour as the light goes.

Clachaig Inn, Glen Coe

Clachaig Inn sits at the foot of Glen Coe, away from the village and surrounded by some of the most dramatic scenery in Scotland. It is not quite alone, but it is remote enough that the journey feels like a proper outing, and the inn has been welcoming walkers and climbers for generations.

The nearest station is Fort William. From there, take a bus towards Glen Coe and walk the last stretch, or take a taxi. By car, follow the A82 and turn off for the inn; the approach is straightforward but the weather can change fast.

Order a pint and a bowl of chips, or something heartier if you have been on the hills. There are two bars, a fire, and a lot of boots. It is not the place for a quiet romantic corner in season, but it is the right place after a day outside.

Making a day of it

The common thread here is not luxury. It is the small pleasure of arriving somewhere that exists because people need shelter, a pint, and a bit of company. These pubs are not attractions to tick off; they are places to slow down.

Check opening times before you go, especially if you are relying on public transport. Rural taxi firms are busy and should be booked ahead. Take cash as a backup, though most places now take cards. And if you are walking, tell someone your route; mobile signal is patchy in exactly the places these pubs tend to be.

The best way to enjoy a lone inn is to give it time. Arrive before the rush, stay for a second pint, and take the long way home. The turning is the point.