Easy as pie

Three decades of a laid-back attitude to being a landlord has turned the Nobody Inn into everybody's favourite. Mark Taylor meets the modest Nick Borst-Smith, who has been nominated in the Morning Advertiser-Imperial Tobacco Classic Host contest

When Nick Borst-Smith took over the Nobody Inn in Doddiscombsleigh in 1970, customers were faced with a choice of one real ale or a bottle of Blue Nun with their chicken in the basket.

Thirty-four years on and visitors to this chocolate-box 16th-century Devon pub can choose from four local real ales, no fewer than 800 wines and a staggering 250 whiskies to complement dishes such as breast of chicken with wild mushroom sauce and wild basmati rice or beetroot tarte tatin with goat's cheese and balsamic syrup.

The pub also has a serious reputation for its cheeseboard ­ on some days boasting a choice of up to 60 West Country cheeses alone.

"Yes, things have slowly progressed," says Borst-Smith modestly. "And I suppose we do get a bit obsessive about things." Softly-spoken, bearded and sporting a comfortable sweater, he is the relaxed and contented publican of one of Britain's most popular country pubs.

But when it comes to why he's been nominated for the title of Classic Host 2004, Borst-Smith offers a humble response: "I've no idea ­ I've been doing what I've been doing for an awfully long time, so somebody's obviously just realised it's of note."

Whether or not he knows the secret of his success, the framed awards and certificates that cover the walls of the Nobody Inn speak volumes.

A bon viveur who privately admits to being quite shy, on paper Borst-Smith may not appear to be the typical landlord.

Whereas other publicans may rely on catchphrases and larger-than-life personalities, he prefers a slightly more laid-back approach and, judging from the way his customers regard him, it seems to work.

"I'm not naturally sociable, but I do prefer to be out there behind the bar more than anything else," he says. "I hate being in the office and I think it's important for a pub to have somebody who recognises people and welcomes them as the landlord."

He was born in 1947 and his background was in hotel training. After working at the Savoy in London, he went on to work in four-star hotels and was assistant manager at the Lygon Arms in Broadway, Worcestershire, in its '60s heyday.

It was also at this time that he worked in a five-star hotel in Burnley and met the legendary Denis Watkins, who ran the Angel at Hetton until his death earlier this year.

"Denis became something of a mentor," confesses Borst-Smith. "I was his assistant and I learned an awful lot of good things and bad things from him. I think it was interesting that we both moved out of hotel life and ended up with pubs."

After a stint doing relief hotel management with the Bass organisation, he slowly became "disillusioned" with the big groups and started to think about running a pub.

"My parents had a pub with some friends in the Cotswolds and when they semi-retired to Devon, they spotted that the Nobody Inn had come up for sale. We knew it of old and jumped at it.

"We bought it in 1970 and my father, who was in the paint business, got a job in London he couldn't resist so when we opened it was just my mother and I. Then I got married the following year.

"Pubs were just a way for me to get out of hotels. With the Nobody Inn, I knew I would be my own boss," he adds.

As well helping him to appreciate the finer things in life, Borst-Smith claims that his stint in hotels also gave him the solid grounding for dealing with customers and guests.

"I think the secret of being a good host is anticipating and looking after people's needs," he explains. I think most people in this business develop that sixth sense. You get a feeling for somebody and what they want and don't want. You just keep ahead of the game."

Being something of a destination pub amid the rolling Devon hills, the Nobody Inn rarely sees any problems from customers. In fact, Borst-Smith is proud of the fact that he's only had to deal with two troublemakers in 34 years.

"The first occasion was actually the previous landlord who lived across the road," recalls Borst-Smith. "He was back here all the time and talking to his old customers, but he did get extremely abusive one night and my father and I kicked him out.

"The only other time was when a young man decided to take off all his clothes on New Year's Eve and he ended up outside without them and hasn't been back since. He's the only person who's been banned."

In many ways, Borst-Smith is a publican of the old school and one of an increasingly rare breed. So how does he see the future of pubs?

"Hopefully, there'll be pubs like this that keep up with the times, but stay traditional. There will be a huge place for them in the future.

"More and more places are putting in stripped floors and chrome and they are purely financially-led. Hopefully, that's a passing fashion because places like that to me are purely businesses ­ I think this has got a bit more heart to it."

He adds: "I don't know whether I would personally like to be remembered, but I'd like the pub to be remembered. This is our pension.

"On a quiet night, we've often thought oh, let's pack it in', but what on Earth would I do? What would I want to do? I can't think of anything else.

"Anybody in this business who takes it half-seriously will say it's a way of life because the hours are long and unsociable and unless you enjoy doing it, you won't be very good at it. It's got to be natural."

He's almost too kind'

"He's brilliant, almost too kind. He's very easy-going, he has a friendly nature and a great understanding of wine as well as a real passion for his business. If he didn't have these qualities, I wouldn't have stayed here for as long as I have!"

­ Janice Preston, who has worked behind the bar for 19 years

"He's a first-class landlord. I've been drinking in pubs since I was in long trousers ­ I've been away to America, Canada and Australia, and when I come back to the Nobody Inn and sit in my seat, I think my God, isn't it wonderful?' I'd rather be here than anywhere."

­ John "Tubby" Greenslade, 87, a regular for the past 37 years