D ylan Thomas called Mousehole the loveliest village in England. He and Caitlin even honeymooned here. While the poet was probably not every mother’s dream son-in-law material, this pub’s harbourfront location, exposed stone, oak beams and open fires would put a smile on the face of the stoniest monster-in-law. Fish and chips in its toasty bar, with hake landed in nearby Newlyn, lashings of mushy peas and Mount’s Bay views through the window, is the definition of snug smugness.