Blighty HOTEL
THE BIRTH OF THE Blighty pub made the news when it was proposed in 1941. It involved the removal of a license over at Morago on the road from Denny to Moulamein, a process that wasn’t too common back then.
“This is another indication,” opined the presiding magistrate in the Licensing Court, “of changed times brought about by the speed of modern transport.”
The beak’s words were more than merely insightful, they were unwittingly prescient. Fifteen days after they were uttered and the license for Blighty Hotel was granted, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbour and, well, times really did change!
So this pub’s been here almost exactly as long as the USS Arizona has been lying on the seabed in Hawaii.
Since my Scottish grandmother gifted me her ancient autograph book which contained an exquisite coloured drawing of the Union Jack and the word, “Blighty” the term has always been for me a nickname for the Old Dart.
Later I learned it was a handle for some Malcolm bloke who played some sort of footy and also a description of
