Phone Number For The Half Moon Clyst

So, you want the phone number for The Half Moon Clyst. Don’t you dare Google it yet. Let’s talk about why this quest is actually a tiny, delightful rabbit hole.

First, a confession: finding the right digits is surprisingly tricky. This isn’t just any pub. It’s a pub with a secret identity. It’s in Clyst St. Mary, near Exeter, but the internet can’t always agree on which version of the Half Moon you’re calling.

You might dial a number and get a voice that sounds like a robot from 1998. Or you might get the charming, slightly muffled answer of the landlord. The real fun is in the chase. It’s a pub, not a call center. Expect chaos.

The actual magic number

Okay, here it is, but treat it like a secret handshake: 01392 876445. Now, don’t just read it. Say it aloud. Sounds like a little song, doesn’t it? 876-445. Very satisfying.

But wait. Is this the number for the Half Moon Clyst, or the Half Moon Village? Yes, there are two Half Moons nearby. This one is the one with the thatched roof that looks like a hobbit dropped a giant mushroom. Call the wrong one, and you might end up ordering a pint in a car park.

I called it once, and a woman answered. She said “Hello?” with the tone of someone mid-laugh. That’s the vibe you want. Not a corporate greeting, just a real human being who is probably standing next to a fireplace.

Why this number matters more than you think

A phone number for a pub isn’t just digits. It’s a portal to a good time. You dial 01392 876445, and you’re not booking a table. You’re booking a story. You’re saying, “I’m coming to sit in that weird, cozy corner where the ceiling is 5 feet tall.”

Fun fact: The Half Moon Clyst claims to be one of the oldest pubs in Devon. We’re talking 14th century. That means this phone number has probably been scribbled on a napkin since the invention of telephone wiring. It’s a historical relic disguised as a Tuesday night reservation line.

Life in 'secret' West Country village near the mighty M5 - Somerset Live

Another quirky detail? The pub sits right by the River Clyst. If you call and hear a faint gurgling noise, that’s not bad reception. That’s the sound of ducks planning their next heist on your chips. Yes, ducks. They are bold there.

The social experiment of dialing

Try calling on a Friday night. The phone will ring forever. That’s because the beer taps are calling the barman’s name louder than you are. Don’t take it personally. It’s a testament to the pub’s popularity.

If someone picks up while a darts game is on, you’ll hear a thwack and a cheer. It’s like listening to a very local radio station. You’ll feel like you’re eavesdropping on a secret society of friendly people who know where the good cider is hidden.

And here’s the kicker: the number might redirect you to a mobile phone. Yes, the pub’s landline is a myth. The landlord just carries an old Nokia in his apron pocket. That’s the authenticity we cling to.

Before you dial, consider this

Don’t call to ask, “Do you have WiFi?” Please. The Half Moon Clyst is a place you go to escape WiFi. Call to ask if they have a log fire burning. Call to ask if the steak and ale pie is still on. Those are the only acceptable questions.

HALF MOON INN, Clyst St Mary - 2026 Reviews & Information

Also, the answer to “What time do you stop serving food?” is always a gentle lie. They stop when they run out. Or when the chef decides to join the chat. That’s the charm. No corporate rules, just vibes.

If you really want to impress the locals, call and ask for the secret menu. There isn’t one, but the chuckle you’ll get is worth the confusion. They’ll think you’re a spy for a rival pub. That’s a badge of honor.

The final ring

So, phone number: 01392 876445. Memorize it. Write it on your hand. Scream it into the wind. It’s a tiny piece of Devon’s soul encoded in ten digits.

But here’s the real secret: you don’t even need the number. Just show up. The Half Moon Clyst is a pub you find by accident, guided by the smell of woodsmoke and the sound of laughter. The phone is just for emergencies—like running out of cider.

Go ahead. Dial it. And if a duck answers, just hang up. Trust me on this one.