1631, while researching ‘The Raven Inn’, I was taken aback by the age of this old pub, now a gutted one since some twats burnt it around October 2023.

Fortunately, our visit had been over 6 months before this event, so I am now showing you images that no longer exist.

Would they have done this if they had the intelligence to understand what a piece of history they were torching? The answer is probably NO, ‘stupid’ is innate and cannot be cured.

‘The pub was formerly a gamekeeper’s cottage but has been mentioned as an alehouse as far back as 1631.’ - Source

Like many ancient buildings, it is said that 'The Raven Inn’ hosts a local ghost called ‘Tom’, a former gamekeeper. What a shame he didn’t say BOO to us on our visit. That would have spiced things up no end.

Source
...'judging by the cars, I would estimate this to be in the early 1990's'...

Closed since 2007 means it’s going to be a wreck inside. Well, that’s fine and means we will probably get in, but we shouldn’t expect pristine fine English Muskets or Edwardian clothes, ironed just yesterday.

Being in the ‘middle of nowhere’, it’s hardly surprising ’The Raven Inn’ fell on hard times. If it had survived its year of closure, then ‘The Great Recession’ of 2009 would have surely killed it off.

Seeing the front was heavily secured, more by the intense foliage than the decaying wooden boards, we went straight to the rear and had little problem gaining entry.

The scene inside was less than dazzling, the most significant item being that silver pipe which is the remains of a ‘grow’. People here are obsessed with growing weed, usually illegally and it's always a short-term business if you can call it that.

Getting busted is all part of the business plan, so buy your pipes, seeds, plant pots, fertilizer, wall sockets, and make sure you gain a free source of electricity to plug into, so some sucker pays for it all when the cops arrive and bust the operation.

Surely not the main bar? If so, it’s very small and equally unimpressive.

I was surprised to find both coffee menus, and what looks like a wholesale order list for Christmas 1991/1992. Over 30 years old, and still there’s evidence of what used to be here.

Christmas Pudding, and just 85p a dib, that’s some value.

Venison, how posh. You don’t get that in your standard boozer, they sold some fancy food here when open.

Even the graffiti looks ancient, complete with unimpressive upside-down cocks.

This part of ’The Raven Inn’ would be a poor choice of roadside inn to bed down in. Getting wet and being taunted by ‘Tom’ would make sleeping tough.

Could this also be a bar? It was so far gone, I had trouble recognising what I was seeing, a passage lay beyond and of course, we had to go and have a look.

More shale, loose bricks, and rubble. This was not getting any better.

Laying on the top shelves, some old beer cans overlooked any visitors, as well as that Scottish stuff that @bingbabe likes so much, Iron Bru. You can get it in England now, but that wasn’t always the case.

You still need to open the door to be able to pass through. Beyond was the front door, something that has not opened in years and will probably never move again.

The stairs were a little ropey but manageable, and access to the roof was easily attained.
Those damn Nazis had visited, spreading their Swastika’s about.

This view should not be visible; however, the lack of a roof made it easy to see all that shit that we had already seen, only from an aerial viewpoint.

Could I make it to the toilet, just to say I pissed in a 17th-century crapper? The floor was looking tetchy, so I thought better of it. Sorry ‘Tom’, but needs are needs and this exploring stuff makes one piss often.

The floor looked like it was covered with paper, but I was not fooled. That’s not going to save my arse if I stand on a dodgy bit of disguised fresh air. I kept to the beams, standard practice when trying to keep alive on the upper levels.

Much evidence of vandalism, punching through the plasterboard. I hope the dicks who did this gained some free cuts, abrasions, and broken fingers, there's no need for any of it.

Hop, skip, and a jump; we all learned to do this as kids right? It's better to pause between each one, and weigh up the risks of the next move.

The inside of ’The Raven Inn’ appeared small compared to the outside footprint. Possibly because a lot of it is fucked, and several rooms of the upper areas were certain death traps.

… and to think Lord Viscount Crusty Arse once bedded down in these very rooms and likely took a local serving wench maid with him for some fun. That's what they did; there was no ‘daddy’ DNA testing then.

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