Bandit Country - 1066 and all that

On Friday I had the pleasure of accompanying Retired Martin on a trip down to deepest Sussex. Martin was visiting the county in order to complete a couple of GBG "ticks" from the south eastern corner of  Sussex. We had previously discussed the possibility of calling in at the “ancient town of Rye”, in order to visit the Ypres Castle; an unspoilt classic pub, now run by the legendary Jeffery Bell (“Stonch”), Martin decided we could combine the Ypres Castle with his ticking expedition, so on a rather foggy Friday morning, the pair of us headed down to Sussex.

Now Rye is a place well worthy of its own post, so I will write about the town in a separate article, but the two locations we headed for, after leaving Rye, were unknown entities, as far as I am concerned. This may sound strange coming from someone who has spent the majority of the past six and a half decades living in the adjoining county of Kent, but there are parts of East Sussex that are still completely unknown to me despite them being just a short drive away.

One such place is Brede, and that is where we headed for upon leaving Rye. Brede is a small village to the east of Rye, and is named after the river on which it is situated. The Brede is one of three rivers which converge around Rye, the others being the Rother and the Tillingham. The River Brede forms a broad flat valley, known as the Brede Levels which runs between high ground to both the north and the south and as this isolates this part of Sussex from both the routes I normally take on trips to the coast, it is the reason why it remains largely unknown to me.

Martin and I were heading for the Three Legs Brewing Company, whose brewery and recently opened taproom, are situated just outside Broad Oak, a small village just to the north of Brede. The brewery is housed in a small industrial unit on Burnt House Farm with the brewery tap at the front of the building. There are normally four cask ales available on hand pump, and sometimes additional ones direct from the cask. A selection of snacks is offered in the form of cheeses, charcuterie (cured meats) and pickles. Beers are also available for take-away, either in re-usable one litre, swing-top bottles, or pre-filled bottles and cans.

We nearly missed the turning, and swung in quite sharply, but after parking the car, we walked over to the bar, and were greeted by the two friendly fellows behind the bar. We were asked if we wanted to open a tab, but I explained that regrettably we were unable to stay long.

The truth was we had perhaps dallied slightly too long in Rye; although I can think of far worse places to dally. Martin had a drive back to Cambridgeshire to contend with once the pub tickings were over, and being a Friday the traffic was bound to be heavy so, much as we would have liked, we were only able to stay for the one beer. I chose the 4.0% Dark, whilst Martin opted for one of the three IPA’s. (If he reads this, I’m sure he’ll confirm which one).

We sat outside on the bench seating, enjoying the late winter sunshine, although having left my coat in the car, I was slightly optimistic in sitting there in my shirt-sleeves. I bought a couple of bottles before we departed; English IPA 4.5% and Imperial Stout 9.1%. I left my card with the chattier of the two staff (I think his name was Dave), before we set off to drive to Crowhurst, and the final watering hole of the trip.

The only fact I know about Crowhurst is that it’s the third stop before Hastings on the rail line down from Tonbridge. Martin’s sat-nav directed us to the Plough Inn, in the centre of this isolated village, whose main claim to fame was the destruction of the local manor house, by Duke William’s forces shortly before the Battle of Hastings. It wasn’t until carrying out a bit of research for this article, that I discovered those pesky Normans were responsible for a quite a bit of damage in the local area, including the burning of a number of local villages. (Nice people!).

What I found surprising about Crowhurst was the hilly and wooded nature of the surrounding countryside. It certainly seems a strange location for a station, and perhaps a pub.  The Plough Inn is set on a hill, overlooking a dip in the road as it winds back up towards the station, and the remains of the ruined manor house. It is an attractive brick-built  building, said to date from 1805.

It is a free-house and was taken over by its current owners in 2016. They have since set about renovating the pub to a high standard, and have managed to turn its fortunes around. The interior has been opened up to create a large open-plan space, which is perhaps not quite in keeping with character of the building. There is a large wood-burning stove at the far end of the bar, adjacent to a set of patio doors, opening onto with what looks like a patio.

There were four cask ales on from Harvey’s, Long Man, Tonbridge and  A another, but the pub has adopted the idea of identical looking, hand-written, white on black pump-clips, designed to resemble small, circular blackboards, but not particularly legible to those whose eye sight isn’t quite 100%. They may look trendy, but a picture tells a thousand words, and I would far rather be confronted with a pictorial clip, instead of what looks like a set hieroglyphics!

Having difficulty reading what is available, whilst being asked what beer I’d like, does not endear me to a place, and I know that Martin felt equally frustrated with this. I tried a couple of halves; a new beer from Tonbridge Brewery, in the style of an old ale, plus the ubiquitous Harvey’s Best. 

We both tried the latter, finding it perfectly drinkable, but not exactly stunning. I also sampled the new Tonbridge offering. There were a handful of other drinkers in the pub, but as Martin observed afterwards, they were sat at the bar, obscuring the view of the hard-to-read pump-clips. I am probably being too hard on the pub, as WhatPub is full of praise for the place, so it obviously finds favour with the local CAMRA branch.

Our route back to Tonbridge, led us up the hill, past the ruins of the former manor and then past the station. We then joined the main road through Battle, which was very busy with Friday afternoon traffic and shoppers. It has always struck me as strange, that a town should have grown up around the site of a battle, but what took place back in 1066 is not only the most memorable date in our history, but it commemorates an event which changed the make-up and destiny of England, and not necessarily for the better.

I arrived back home just before 5pm. My thanks to Martin for a most enjoyable day out in this pleasant corner of Sussex, and for his excellent company.