The Exmoor White Horse Inn Exford

Let’s talk about a pub that feels like a time machine with better beer. The Exmoor White Horse Inn in Exford isn’t just a place to sleep—it’s a story you can walk into. Tucked in the heart of Exmoor National Park, this spot has been serving travelers since the 1600s. Yes, the 1600s.

A pint with a side of history

The building itself is a quirky patchwork. It started as a coaching inn for weary horse riders. Today, it still welcomes horses—literally. There’s a dedicated stable bar where you can grab a drink after a ride. Imagine ordering a cider while your horse munches hay next door.

That’s not a gimmick. It’s pure Exmoor charm. The inn even has its own pack of local Exmoor ponies grazing nearby. No, you can’t ride them—but you can photograph them looking smug.

Ghosts, ale, and a very old fireplace

Every ancient pub has a ghost story. This one? It’s got two. Staff swear a friendly monk named Brother John haunts the restaurant. He’s known for moving salt shakers. Spooky? Nope. Just annoying when you’re trying to season your chips.

There’s also a tale of a highwayman who once hid here. Rumor says he still rattles chains in the cellar. But honestly? Most guests report louder sounds from the crackling log fire—it’s huge, ancient, and steals the show.

The food is straight-up ridiculous

Let’s talk about the menu. They serve Exmoor venison from deer that roam the hills you just hiked. The steak and ale pie? Legend has it the pastry is so flaky, a local farmer once cried. I’m not kidding. Read the guest book—it’s full of pie-praise poetry.

Exford: The Exmoor White Horse Inn © Mr Eugene Birchall :: Geograph

And the breakfast. Oh, the breakfast. It includes “local Exmoor sausages” that are so porky and herby, they’ll ruin regular sausages for you forever. Pro tip: order the full English and pretend you’re a hungry knight.

Why you’ll feel like a local instantly

The pub has a book exchange by the fire. Grab a dusty thriller, sink into a leather chair, and watch dogs nap at your feet. The barman might call you “my lover” if you’re nice. That’s genuine Somerset charm—no script.

Want weird? There’s a tradition of hanging wellington boots from the ceiling. Staff say it started when a muddy walker left them there in 1987. Nobody took them down. Now, it’s a muddy art installation.

THE EXMOOR WHITE HORSE INN - Updated 2025 Prices & Hotel Reviews

If you go, do this one thing

Order a pint of Exmoor Gold ale. It’s brewed locally, and the name isn’t just marketing—it literally glows like liquid gold in the firelight. Then, step outside. Listen to the River Exe babble past the garden. You’ll hear nothing except sheep and the wind.

And if you see a monk in the corner, just wave. He’s harmless. Probably just after a chip.

The bottom line

The Exmoor White Horse Inn is a glorious time capsule with good beer, ghostly pranks, and a pie that inspires poetry. It’s not fancy. It’s better—it’s real. Go for the history, stay for the warm hug of a log fire, and leave wondering why your own pub doesn’t have a stable bar.

Trust me: your only regret will be not booking an extra night.