Our Story So Far

An honest account written by Harriet

The Loders Arms: The Honest Truth of It

As many of you may know, The Loders Arms has seen a fair few landlords throughout its time (Including one whom we try to avoid mentioning at all costs. If you know, you know.) So it was with great trepidation that Matt and I decided to bite the bullet and launch ourselves headfirst into this venture. A whole pub with customers and everything!

Saturday night, October 2022, sat on the sofa after a 16-hour shift and approximately 4 hours since Matts redundancy was announced, he turns to me, tea in hand, and says “what do we do now?”. To which I responded with something along the lines of “God knows”.

Just short of 2 years later, and here we are. Landlord and Lady of our very own pub, brewery tied, but hey, you can’t have it all. If someone had told me on that very night that things would eventually come to fruition and we would be running our own business, I would have laughed in their face. But this is not to say that the last 18 months have been easy. It has in fact been the most difficult, testing, gruelling and eye-opening experience of our lives. In fact, we have come close to throwing in the towel a number of times, and would it not be for our neighbours, locals, and now dear friends, we would most definitely have done so.

Fast forward to March 2023 and the keys are ours, ready to move forward and onto our new life, except we are hit with the first hurdle - no electricity. Not one spark. And with it being the coldest March known to God and man, we could foresee a significant problem. With nowhere to live except the flat above the pub, we begrudgingly moved in. Me, Matt, my brother Ashley, 3 cats and a dog. All living in the icebox that was the Loders Arms. How did we manage it you ask? Well, we didn’t. We moved into a flat across the road thanks to a very dear friend. This was our absolute saving grace. We were able to work on the pub during the daylight hours, using a dodgy generator, and then retire to the comfort of somebody else’s home. Ashley however, stubborn as he is, stayed and worked tirelessly to build, sand, paint and construct until the job was done, and we could not be more grateful for his endless amounts of talents. We would not have been able to complete the renovation to the standard it is without him.

May 4th, the electric man turns up, spends approximately 3.5 minutes inputting a new fuse box and BAM. Electricity. Lights, showers, fridges, heating, the whole shebang. The renovation sped up 10-fold (funnily enough), and we were able to open on the 19th May 2023! Hurrah! Excellent news, a fully refurbished pub serving food & drink. Wrong. A partially refurbished pub, power tools hiding in every corner, and a non-functioning commercial kitchen. No problem we’ll just wait for our kitchen equipment to arrive... and we’ll answer every customer enquiry with “not long now!”. 

We could not have been more welcomed into the village if we had ‘Loders for life’ tattooed on our foreheads. The amount of support we received was utterly overwhelming, and we felt so very looked after by the community. Being thrusted upon the Loders way of life did come with its unpredictability however. When a neighbour presented us with a pair of purple scarecrow legs to hang outside the front of the pub, announcing “I made this for you! For the festival!” we were a little confused, but we went with it, nodding politely. “Thank you so much, it is wonderful!”. Alas, we now know that a scarecrow festival is held every year in Loders, and it is of upmost importance to partake. Obviously.

We would later host the wedding of the scarecrow legs lady and her now husband, and we consider them two of our most loyal customers.

Our kitchen equipment arrives at the end of June and finally, we can start showcasing Matt’s talents and flaunt the extraordinary Dorset produce. From that day we absolutely thrived. Full every Friday and Saturday night, and beginning to build a reputation. Along comes our fabulous team, small but mighty. We were doing it. It was working. The pub was once again a thriving community hub, and murmurings of the term ‘destination pub’ were starting to make its way through the village. There is a picture on Instagram of myself and our team lying on the pub floor after our busiest service, a tradition I have taken from every other managerial job I have had in the past, and I will forever remember that evening as one of our biggest achievements. We had taken a record amount of money, all of our hard work was paying off, and it felt incredible. “The Hospitality industry isn’t failing” I thought. “Some people just know how to make it work!”. How naïve.

After a wonderfully busy Summer and a thriving Winter at the pub we took it upon ourselves to hit 2024 even harder. Let’s begin the year with a bang, and host a New Year’s Eve party. We’ll go all out with a 1920’s themed soiree, an elaborate buffet, a balloon arch (obviously a balloon arch is the height of sophistication), black & gold feathers on every table and a 1920’s soundtrack throughout. We had 40 tickets to sell. We sold out within 3 weeks of advertising. “Absolutely smashed it” we thought. “This is going to be epic”.

Along comes December 31st 2023. The decs are up, our costumes are on, the buffet is ready, and the first few people start to arrive. And it stopped at that. 20 people couldn’t make it that evening, and it was a monumental reality check. It doesn’t sound like a huge number of people, but in a small village pub that can seat 40 people, it is noticed when 20 are absent.

From that day we have struggled to regain momentum. This is not a self-pity ‘woe is me’ article, but just simple fact. We heard so many people tell us that the first year was the hardest. What? Our first year was amazing! “The year that follows the first must be the hardest right?” we’d ask. “Well, no” they’d say, “it takes 3 years to establish a business”. Right. These everchanging goal posts are becoming more and more difficult to reach. And with the cost-of-living crisis peeping over everyone’s shoulder at the moment, how are we meant to look forward with optimism? “You just gotta put your heart and soul into it, and hope for the best”. 

And that’s what we’ve done. We’ve poured every ounce of energy we have into this business, every conversation we have is about the Loders Arms, and how to improve sales, increase revenue, and reduce overheads. Our marriage now comes second to the pub, through no fault of either one of us, it’s just what happens, it is inevitable. We have been totally consumed by this building and it’s every brick. Has it paid off? No. We have officially hit financial rock bottom. Yay! Cheers to that! Our revenue has decreased by 80% since last year, our customer base has fallen from the face of the earth and the sandwich brigade have started to arrive. We recently had a conversation I never thought we would have. Lying face down on our bed, Matt mumbled something about needing to have a plan, to which I answered “What kind of plan?” “An escape plan” he said.

Wow okay, we’ve gone from owning a thriving business, a fully booked and buzzing pub to having not one customer on a Friday night in a matter of months. We used to laugh when we heard the horror stories of landlords doing a runner in the middle of the night, and now all of a sudden, we can almost see the appeal. So why has this happened? Well, some people say that it’s because the ‘honeymoon period’ has worn off, and that now we need to work harder to regain the ‘pull’. Some people say that it’s down to the poor weather we’ve had over the last few months, and some really helpful people just comment on the absence of customers, and expect us to laugh along with them. “Have you upset everyone already? Is that why we’re the only customers?” “We didn’t really need to book did we, we thought you’d be busier!” “That didn’t last long did it!”. Very helpful, thank you.

I read recently that just over 6 pubs close their doors for good every single day, and that they have done so for the past 20 years. 6 pubs. Every day. That is ridiculous?! And when I brought this up with Matt, he shrugged it off as if I’d just told him we’d ran out of teabags. I can’t be the only one to find this statistic positively alarming?! Again, how naïve.  

Skip forward to the present day, and after what feels like 7 years’ worth of rain, a hefty slap in the face from the tax man and an actual tornado (yes really), we are finally building a steady reputation. If we have learnt anything from this experience it is that people love sandwiches. But also, that the road to success is not linear, nor is it constant. It takes absolute body and soul dedication, but more importantly an expectation of failure. We know we are not invincible, and that has been our most valuable lesson.

So would we change anything? Yes of course, we’re not stupid. But would we do it all over again? No probably not. But are we glad we said yes to this opportunity? Absolutely. It has been one of the biggest learning curves and one hell of a rollercoaster. One that is immeasurable in terms of valuable experience. Matt and I are a good team, but we have realised over the last 18 months that we are an even better team when we accept the help of others. Our team, friends, family, neighbours, locals and even strangers have been our constant throughout this experience, and the backbone of our business. Perhaps with the exception of one lady who told me my napkins reminded her of her mums’ dirty dishcloths. That was not so helpful.

So here we are, June 20th 2024. Summer solstice. The longest day of the year, and looking back on the longest year of our lives, and utterly exhausted. Today turned out to be one of our busiest days yet, a record breaker if you will... Get on the floor.

Harriet Hallett
Publican