Man On The Moon West Heath

So, you know that moment when you’re scrolling through Instagram, half-heartedly double-tapping photos of avocado toast, and then bam—you see a picture of a pub that looks like it was plucked from a fairytale and plopped down in the middle of a forest? That’s Man On The Moon in West Heath, and let me tell you, it’s not a filter. This place is the real deal.

First off, the name. Am I the only one who half-expects to find a disco-dancing astronaut inside? (Spoiler: you won’t, but the vibe is still out of this world.) Nestled in a quiet corner of the West Midlands, this gastropub is the kind of spot where you plan to stay for one drink, and suddenly it’s three hours later, you’ve made friends with the dog at the next table, and you’re ordering a second dessert. Oops. Worth it.

The building itself is a gorgeous old red-brick cottage, all crooked chimneys and ivy creeping up the walls. Inside, it’s cosy without being cluttered—think exposed beams, crackling fireplaces, and lamps that give off a warm, honey-coloured glow. It’s the kind of light that makes everyone look like they’re starring in a rom-com. (I’m not saying you’ll suddenly become Keanu Reeves, but I’m not not saying that.) The staff? Absolutely lovely. They greet you like an old friend, even if you’ve only just stumbled in, muddy boots and all.

Now, let’s talk food. The menu changes with the seasons, because they’re smug (in the best way) about using local produce. You want a Sunday roast? They’ve got a legendary one—the beef so tender it practically sings, the Yorkshire puddings so towering they need their own postcode. And the desserts? Their sticky toffee pudding is the kind of thing you’d write poetry about. Badly. But passionately. Pair it with a pint of something local, or one of their dangerously drinkable cocktails (the “Lunar Landing” is a gin-based dream), and you’re golden.

First Man On The Moon 1969

But here’s the secret: the real magic is in the garden. String lights, wooden benches, and a fire pit that makes you want to hug strangers. It’s dog-friendly, kid-friendly, and best-friend-friendly. I once saw a group of friends spontaneously break into a singalong of “Bohemian Rhapsody” here. It was cheesy. It was perfect.

Honestly, Man On The Moon is more than a pub—it’s a little pocket of joy. A place where the chaos of the outside world fades away, replaced by good laughs, great food, and the feeling that everything is going to be just fine. So go. Take your appetite, your curiosity, and maybe a spare pair of trousers (you’ll want room for that pudding). And when you leave, full and grinning under a canopy of stars, you’ll realize something important: sometimes, the best way to reach the moon is on foot, with a pint in hand. Cheers to that.