"Bruton" drabbles by Neville Hunt

Wirth it

Bruton #3

Prior to hitting the road southwest, we spent the morning at an art gallery... but not just any old art gallery. This is a fabulous creation in an old farm just outside town with contemporary modernist art and sculptures of a rather feminist bias. Mayfair art dealers Hauser & Wirth, Mayfair, Braemar... and... Bruton, have created an oasis of culture. And having had our fill of culture and beautiful gardens, we slipped into the attached Roth Bar for a lovely light lunch.

Some of the artwork turned my stomach, but the lunch turned it back.

Worthy?... maybe. Wirth it?... absolutely!

Sexey

Bruton #2

Our upmarket B&B was lovely. It was in a period semi in the ancient high street, opposite Sexey’s Hospital - a gift from benefactor Hugh Sexey for the townsfolk, as they reached their autumn years. Not for me yet as there’s still a spring in my step.

Our en-suite room was excellent, with a range of beautiful pastels painted by the owner’s grandmother. Lovely! But the shower interested me most. Huge, room for at least two. I had an idea.

“Shall we shower together? I asked hopefully.

“No” was the unequivocal reply.

Maybe I was getting a bit too Sexey!

Sintillating

Bruton #1

We dined At the Chapel. Repast then repent was our mission. The food was temptingly divine. Devilishly red beetroot carpaccio with creamy goat’s cheese and oranges kicked off our descent. Next a super-decadent pizza topped by Satan himself. Chocolate fondant and ice cream then completed our fall from grace.

The chapel had been transformed. Pews... gone; penitents... gone, but the central ‘pit’ still held sinners like us. The cross was replaced by a naked female effigy looking down on a well-stocked bar, an altar to evil spirits. A blasphematic travesty... but we had a hell of a time.