It was a Sunday evening and, for the first time, I found myself in the sleepy village of Selling where I spotted what looked like a very welcoming pub, the White Lion on The Street. I was still congratulating myself on discovering this wonderful 18th-century pub in an out-of-the-way spot when I walked into a pretty much empty bar. Fortunately, I was swiftly joined by a delightful young lady who immediately summoned a barman, called Blue, from the depths of the pub. They both explained closing time on a Sunday is 8pm and as it was getting on, I didn’t delay getting my order in. This being a She…