It is a charming, picturesque pub, one that has been weathered by salt and sea air; unassuming, too, in a hamlet called Seatown. Rickety boats are the people’s stock and trade, so too catering to the fossil hunters who scour the Jurassic Coast. On one side of the Anchor are cliffs, the odd cow and plenty of ramblers — a bracing walk should precede any visit — and on the other, blue waves and a sweeping orange beach. There are rooms too: eat, drink and fall asleep to the sound of the sea, before waking up with a swim. Heaven.
