First full day at sea, or a few more tales from the North Sea

It's our first full day on board Queen Anne, and after a solid night’s sleep for both of us, we’re looking out over a calm, but rather grey looking North Sea. Feeling lazy after the hectic rush of the past few days – stress levels high yesterday after getting lost on the approaches to Southampton, (more about that another time), we’ve ordered a room service breakfast, before setting out to explore the ship. Update, the breakfast in the room was fine, and suited my requirements for a recharge, but for the rest of the voyage I shall be breakfasting either at the buffet or, if I feel like kippers, in the restaurant. It's also nice to have pre-breakfast stroll, and few possibly a post-breakfast laps around the quarter deck.

I clocked up quite a few steps this morning, prior to a prearranged rendezvous with my wife, up on Deck 14. The latter is the designated “smoking area” and whilst Eileen vapes these days, rather than smokes, the former is viewed with equal disdain in certain quarters. Mind you, it’s rather chilly on the uppermost deck, and whilst there’s some basic shelter from the rain, the area is still quite exposed, especially when it’s windy.

As mentioned in the previous post, this is our second voyage on board what is Cunard’s newest cruise ships, and whilst I was quite critical following our initial sailing – just under a year ago, I think I’m correct in saying the ship’s management and crew appear to have got over most of their teething problems.  Certainly, from what I’ve seen so far, things are running a lot smoother, and the ship’s appeal is growing for both Mrs PBT’s and I.

Tomorrow’s port of call is Newhaven, which acts as the deep-water berthing point for Edinburgh. It’s disembarkation by tender, which basically means leaving the ship, and transferring to shore, using a number of the vessel’s lifeboats. Eileen isn’t over keen, although needless to say I’m up for it. I shan’t be taking any of the excursions into Edinburgh though, or bothering with local public transport, because Newhaven looks worthy of exploration on its own. I’ve earmarked a couple of pubs, and they will do me, plus there’s a spot of shopping that Mrs PBT’s has asked me to pick up for her.

We lunched in the ship’s pub, the Golden Lion today, and we did the same yesterday, almost immediately after boarding. Most of the dishes in the pub are included in the cost of the voyage, although if you’re mad enough to splash the cash, you can opt for a creation from Michel Roux. Why would you, though? Unless you’re one of the vain, gullible people taken in by the cult of the celebrity chef!

The standard fare in the pub is pretty good, and yesterday we both enjoyed hake, chips and mushy peas, whilst today I had a rather nice chicken and mushroom pie, with mash potato. The portions aren’t huge, which is probably just as well, but they’re tasty and well presented. The Golden Lion also offers a good range of bottled beers (the draught selection isn’t up to much), from the likes of St Austell, Badger, Adnams, and yesterday’s excellent choice Maharaja IPA from Renegade Brewery. My only complaint is the bottles are almost frozen, rather than chilled, but then as Paul Hogan used to say, “You wouldn’t want a warm one!”

So far, the weather has been remarkedly benign, with virtually wall-to-wall sunshine, and a North Sea that looks as smooth and as calm as the proverbial millpond. Our cabin, sorry “State Room," is comfortable and well-appointed and, should we need anything else, there’s our room steward, who goes by the unlikely name of “Rommel” to take care of things - no remarks about the Afrika Korp, and the "Desert Fox," please!

There’s not much else to report at the moment so, providing I haven’t bored you all to death yet, I’m going to sign off, and report back later in the voyage. After yesterday’s debacle, I won’t attempt to post any photos yet, but unlike Simon (BRAPA), who is also experiencing issues regarding photos, I shan’t attempt anything generated by AI – for the time being at least.

Round Britain cruise - May 2025

Just a short post because by the time you read this post, Mrs PBT’s and I should be cruising up the eastern side of the Britain and heading into the potentially choppy waters of the North Sea. We’ve embarked on 14-night cruise aboard the Cunard Queen Anne, that will take us right round the British Isles in an anticlockwise direction, visiting a number of interesting locations on the way, including Invergordon, Stornoway, Greenock and Liverpool, as well as calling at suitable deep-water ports for Edinburgh, Dublin and Cork. There will be coach trips to these three cities, although having visited both the Scottish and Irish capitals, I shall give these two destinations a miss, and see what’s available locally, in their respective ports.

We sailed on the Queen Anne on last year, on a cruise of the western Mediterranean, and it will be interesting to see how the ship is settling in. I say this because the Anne is the newest vessel amongst Cunard’s four Queen ships, and has experienced a few teething troubles whilst settling in. These things are to be expected, and I imagine that any issues will have been sorted by now, so it’s fingers crossed for a smooth sailing plus the chance to experience parts of these fair isles of ours.

Mrs PBT’s has packed enough clothes and supplies to cover an around-the-world journey, which might be somewhat excessive, although I understand her caution given the unpredictability of British weather. With this in mind, I have prudently included one relatively thick coat, because as the saying goes, "There is no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing." My packing could have been minimized further if not for the additional items my wife requested to be included in my suitcase. Consequently, I had to opt for the largest suitcase we’ve got at home, to accommodate these extras.

That aside, we are both looking forward to our trip. Saturday was extremely busy as we both spent the day thoroughly clearing out our kitchen. This involves removing items accumulated over the past 30 years rather than simply packing for a holiday. While we are away, we are having a new kitchen fitted. It obviously makes sense for the work to be carried out in our absence, although we have left our son Matthew in nominal charge of proceedings, so we will see how things progress during our absence.

Well-known ports of call include two days in Liverpool. However, exploring the city on the first day might be challenging due to an open-top bus parade for Liverpool FC, celebrating their recent football championship. Unfortunately, this means my plans to visit several National Inventory pubs have been altered. A work colleague, with family connections to Liverpool, has warned that the pubs will be extremely crowded, noisy, and best avoided. Which means postponing visits to the NI pubs, will have to wait until the following day. However, my wife has informed me that we will have a royal guest on board ship in the form of  the Princess Royal - so Princess Anne visits Queen Anne. This might mean movement on and off the ship will be restricted, due to security concerns surrounding the royal personage, so we shall see how it turns out. 

When our ship visits Ireland, there will be a coach transfer into the city from our stop at Dun Laoghaire, However, since I have visited Dublin before, I will probably skip the city tour and explore the local area instead. Our next stop, Cobh (formerly Queenstown), holds historical significance as it was the last port of call for the Titanic on its ill-fated maiden voyage. Following its departure from Cobh, the ship entered the Atlantic and tragically met its end on 15th April 1912, after that fateful collision with an iceberg. 

I am tidying up this post with the help of AI as it is currently quite disorganized due to being dictated rather than typed. While embracing new technology, I remain committed to maintaining creativity. Let's see how this turns out. I will be taking my laptop with me, so hopefully, I will be able to post while at sea or at least once we dock somewhere with a 4G signal. That's all for now, although I plan to be back in touch soon. 

No photos, at the moment, unfortunately, due to the dreaded IT issues. I had enough trouble connecting my laptop to the ship's Wi-Fi, and now it's not recognising the link to my photos, I'm afraid you will have to use your imaginations until I get the issue fixed. Sorry! 

Along the edge of the Forest - Pt. Two

In the previous post you left me outside the Bear in village of Hartfield, waiting for the 291 bus to carry me in a westerly direction to Coleman’s Hatch. I had a rather late appointment to keep there at the Hatch Inn, which was the pub I should have visited first, on this little outing, in view of its 11:30 opening time. I shan’t bother repeating the story again, but oversleeping that morning, if only by about 20 minutes, rather put a spanner in the works. I was still keen to visit the Hatch Inn, after being impressed with the place on previous visits, and this is despite the pub being regarded as quite an upmarket drinking house.

I like the setting of the pub itself, as well, standing as it does on the edge of Ashdown Forest, where it forms a big attraction for those wanting to escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Originally a row of three cottages dating back to 1430, the Hatch Inn became an inn during the 18^th century, when it was known as the “Cock.” It was later renamed the Hatch, at Coleman's Gate, which is one of the gates, or “Hatches" that lead onto Ashdown Forest. The inn is one of several in the area, and the allure of this low, dark building nestled into the landscape, contributes to the allure of this atmospheric old inn.

The Hatch Inn has earned numerous accolades, featuring in The Good Pub Guide, AA Best Pubs, AA Best Pub Food, Country Life Magazine, Time Out Magazine, and the Daily Telegraph's Best of British Pubs, among others, which perhaps explains its upmarket reputation. This would be my third visit to the Hatch Inn, but a work colleague who knows the area better than I do admits to having indulged in a spot of celebrity spotting at the pub.  I can’t remember any of these people’s names, but rather than trying to impress, my workmate was attempting to illustrate just how much money there, is floating round locally.

As for Ashdown Forest, it’s an ancient area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, and with its highest point reaching 732 feet above sea level its views are legendary, stretching as far as the North Downs and South Downs, depending on which way you are looking. So, whether it’s a gentle stroll before lunch or a more challenging trek to build your appetite for an evening meal, the Forest offers a diverse range of fauna and flora, heathland and forest. I’ve written before about how my walking friend Eric, and I traversed the Forest as part of our Wealdway Walk, in 2010.

The 291 metro bus services include a
feature where some buses have a visual display indicating the name of the next stop, and in some cases, this is also announced audibly. However, not all buses are equipped with these features, and some that do have them may not have them switched on. This can be a disadvantage for bus travel, especially if you are unfamiliar with the route, as it makes it difficult to know where the stops are and increases the possibility of getting off at the wrong stop.

The bus I took lacked an information system, but fortunately, I had a rough idea of where to disembark based on my previous visit. As we approached the church at Coleman’s Hatch, I recognised it was time for me to get off. I pressed the button, and the bus came to a halt—not too abruptly, although the driver still seemed slightly surprised. After leaving the bus, I crossed the road to check the return times. I realised then that I would not have much time at the pub, so determined to make the most of my visit, I headed up the hill towards the Hatch Inn. Although I could have extended my visit and taken a later bus back, I was determined to visit at least one other pub before returning to Tunbridge Wells.

It was a warm and balmy summer’s day as I walked up the hill and across the junction at the top, which was the point where, almost hidden on the other side of the junction, was the Hatch Inn, peeping out from behind the trees and looking splendid in the late spring sunshine. The majority of customers were sitting outside taking advantage of the sun at on it inside and ordered myself a pint of 360° Double Act, a 3.9% abv pale ale, which certainly hit the spot, after my uphill walk. It was too nice to sit inside though, so after a quick nose around to re-acquaint myself with the pub, I headed back outside and found a seat at one of the tables.

I sat there enjoying my nice hoppy beer, along with the general ambience of this quiet rural pub. Many of the customers seemed to be agricultural or forestry workers, who were no doubt celebrating the end of the working week - in the best way possible with a pint or two of refreshing beer. Unfortunately, I had to rush my pint, despite not really wanting to, so after drinking up I headed back down towards the church, at Coleman’s Hatch, and the bus stop. The latter is in an unfortunate position being directly on a bend which means passengers have to stand out, partially in the road just to make sure that the bus driver sees them.

Despite me being at the stop in good time, I had a 20-minute wait before the bus finally appeared. I was left thinking that I needn’t have rushed my pint, but also that I should have visited the Gents, before leaving. I was tempted to get off a couple of stops before Hartfield and call in at the Gallipot Inn, an attractive little pub overlooking the B2110, but after seeing the place described as a bit of a "gastropub", I decided to remain on the bus, and stick with my original plan. This was to have my last pint at the good old Dorset Arms, which lies in the tiny hamlet of Withyham. That way, I’d be a little closer to Tunbridge Wells.

The Dorset is a pub I've known for a long time, as for many years it was Harvey’s "show pub". However, it turns out the pub didn't actually belong to the brewery, but was only leased to them. The real owners are Buckhurst Estates, as referenced by the signs in front of the pub. To all intents and purposes, the Dorset might as well be a Harvey’s pub, because as far as cask is concerned, their Best Bitter, plus the occasional season offering, are the only beers on sale. I rushed in and promptly alarmed the barmaid by asking for directions to the toilet. Needs must and all that, but after feeling very relieved, I headed back to the bar and ordered a very good fine pint of Sussex Best.

There was quite a crowd in the bar, similar in nature to the drinkers at the Hatch Inn. So, builder types, and agricultural workers again, people who’d finished their shift for the day, or even the week, and enjoying a few well-earned pints. As with the Hatch, I took my beer outside and found a convenient spot on the terrace, just outside the entrance to the pub, where I could sit and watch the world go by. My contemplation's were interrupted by the appearance of a member of the kitchen staff who was taking a break, following a busy shift. Her appearance was quite fortuitous, as she gave me the Wi-Fi code for the pub. This was handy as with a non-existent 4G signal, I’d been unable to confirm the bus times back to Tunbridge Wells.

Not long after, it was time for me to go, and with another dodgy bus stop right opposite the pub, I had to stand out in the road again to flag the vehicle down. Fortunately, the bus driver saw me as he rounded the bed, so there was no need for any heroics on my part. It had been a good day out visiting these four fine, and largely unspoilt Sussex pubs, and it’s an exercise I wouldn’t mind repeating. Next time I shall head a bit further west, to take in Forest Row and East Grinstead. The 291 bus dropped me in the centre of Tunbridge Wells, and I headed towards the RVP for, yet another pee stop. When I emerged from the shopping centre, there was a No. 7 bus waiting at the stand, which took me back to Tonbridge, and home.

 

 

Along the edge of the Forest - Pt. One

The first stop on last Friday’s outing, was the lovely old Crown Inn, overlooking the green in the Kent half of Groombridge. Living where I do, I’m bound to say that the Kentish side is by far the most picturesque and attractive part of the village, especially when one considers the tile- hung Crown along with the adjacent houses overlooking the green. The nearby Groombridge Place, a moated manor house known for its formal gardens and vineyards, is another point of interest. This former tourist attraction is currently closed and awaiting conversion into a boutique hotel and luxury spa.

The Sussex part of Groombridge is a far more recent settlement. The growth of this area was likely due to the arrival of the railway in the late 19^th century. Groombridge Junction was an important part of the rail network in this part of the country but it gradually lost its significance not just because of the infamous Beeching cuts, but also due to a shameful lack of investment by the Thatcher government, some 20 years later. The "Iron Lady", of course, wasn't a fan of the railways, and in 1985 encouraged a cash-strapped British Rail to close the Eridge line in order to save money. Although the savings were minimal, the sale of railway property, especially the  impressive Tunbridge Wells West station, generated substantial revenue for the government, but not for British Rail.

I digress, and the Crown Inn is a pub I became acquainted with right from the start of my time working in Tonbridge, and several years before I actually moved to the town. This was because the company I worked for, operated in the field of water treatment. We had a new piece of kit that the local water company allowed us to have on test, at their Groombridge pumping station. “Just driving over to Groombridge to check on the chart-recorder,” was code for disappearing, during work time, to carry out a quick check of the equipment, a task that was then followed by a pint or two at the Crown Inn.

And why not?  for this splendid old inn has a timeless atmosphere that seems to have changed very little over the years. It reminds me of what pubs were like when I first started drinking back in the early 70’s. Stepping inside, one is greeted by a heavily beamed public room, overseen by a bar counter. A couple of open fireplaces provide welcome warmth during winter, whilst a separate restaurant-cum-dining room leads off to the right and the rear. To the left of the bar, and the fireplace, is what is almost a private or snug bar, adorned with some wonderful old advertising posters. I’m not sure whether they genuine or repro, but they certainly add to the feel of this part of the pub. 

As well as a restaurant the Crown offers accommodation, in four comfortable period rooms. Given the age of the building, I would imagine that the stairs up to the rooms must be both steep and narrow. I was a bit wary myself, when returning from the Gents, as there are some quite steep steps down into the snug. (The same obviously applies to the Ladies as well). So if you have mobility issues the Crown is probably not the pub for you.

When I arrived on Friday, there was a couple sitting out at one of the tables overlooking the green, and with several other bench tables spare, I thought I would join them. Thirst things first, and I popped inside, and ordered a pint of Sussex Best. The other choice was Larkin’s Traditional, a beer that is not there amongst my favourites, as I would much rather see the brewery’s Best Bitter adorning the bar. That’s just me, as the 3.4% Trad is the best-selling beer by far, in the Larkin’s cannon. (Something about it being a low-strength session beer, that you can have a couple of without risking your licence.)

It was very pleasant sitting outside, sunning myself, although soon afterwards, a very thirsty looking rambler appeared, climbing up the hill, with a huge rucksack on his back, complete with a bedding roll and sleeping bag slung underneath. This individual wasn't your average rambler out for a country stroll, instead this was someone who was doing some serious walking. 

He asked if I would keep an eye on his pack while he went inside and ordered himself at pint. “Of course,” I replied and when he returned, I asked him where he was heading for, and where had he come from. It turned out he was following a route of his own choosing, that didn’t take in any of the better-known footpaths, but his route was taking him deeper into Sussex for an overnight stop. Before drinking up and returning my empty glass to the bar, I bid farewell to this intrepid hiker and wished him well on his lengthy journey.

I wandered down the road, and across bridge over the river Grom, which separates the Kent side of Groombridge, from the Sussex side. I didn’t have long to wait until the next 291 bus heading towards East Grinstead, came along. My destination was the village of Hartfield, a large, and well laid out settlement, with a famous literary connection on the one hand, plus a rather tragic ending for a musical legend, on the other. 

I don’t want the rather obvious connection between Winnie the Pooh author A.A. Milne, and Rolling Stones’ guitarist and founder member, Brian Jones, both of whom lived at Cotchford Farm, to the southwest of Hartfield, to overshadow this piece, so I shall leave you to do your own research here. What I will say is that the village pub, formerly known as the Anchor, has recently been transposed into the Bear, picking up on the Winnie the Pooh stories, written by Alan Alexander Milne, during the 1920’s.

I suppose one can’t blame the pub’s owners for cashing in on the Christopher Robin stories, but the Bear seems a strange name for a pub because there aren’t any bears in this part of the world. Come to think of it, the Anchor is also an unusual pub name in an area where there aren’t any ships! That said, apart from the new name, little seems to have changed at this substantial two bar pub, parts of which date from the 14^th century. According to Google, I last visited the Anchor/Bear 10 years ago, although I thought I’d been to the pub since then. As Google doesn't lie, that 2016 visit would have been on an outing by vintage bus, that I undertook, with friends from Maidstone CAMRA branch. On that occasion we enjoyed a pre-booked pub-lunch in the spacious dining area at the rear of the pub.

Last Friday was slightly different, as I sat in the smaller of the pub’s two bars, situated at the front of the pub, and reached from the street by an attractive, colonial-style veranda. This feature is repeated in the building next door which, if you look closely, is a former pub. Known as the Hay Waggon, it was closed, and up for sale, back in 2016, and today, it has become a private residence. 

A very nice-looking residence, mind you, and decked out, like its neighbour, with Union flags, to commemorate the recent VE Day, 80^th anniversary celebrations. The article I wrote at the time, records that many years ago I called in for a drink at the Hay Waggon whilst on a cycle ride through the area. That would have been with the previous Mrs Bailey, but I only have very vague memories of that occasion and am struggling to remember the route we would have taken, as we lived in Maidstone at the time.

Back to the present, and there was a pleasant and relaxed atmosphere in the bar on Friday, with a mixed group of customers, some eating, but most just drinking, like me. The beer range was divided between Harvey’s and Long Man Brewery, with Best Bitter plus Sisters’ Table Beer from the former, plus Long Blonde,  Copper Hop from the latter. I opted for a pint of Copper Hop which, as it says on the pump-clip, is a hoppy, amber ale. The most popular beer though, seemed to be Cruzcampo, the 4.4% abv Spanish lager which for the young and trendy, aka “fickle”, appears to be the new Madri. Brewed in Seville, a city that I would like to visit on my next trip to Spain, and a place where I’m sure the Cruzcampo would taste much better, than in an English village. To be continued...........................................................

A lie-in, throws my meticulously laid plans into disarray

Good evening. After an absence of several weeks, the day before yesterday marked the return of Pub Friday. It had been a considerable time since my last bus trip, although I did take the train to Marden last Friday in a further attempt to revisit the two pubs that were closed on my Easter Monday visit. 

That trip was only partially successful, as disclosed in the previous article.  Currently, it is an “all-hands-on-deck” situation as Mrs. PBTS and I prepare for our two-week, British Isles cruise which commences on Sunday week. Additionally, we are faced with the task of clearing out 30 years of accumulated “items” from our kitchen, in order to make way for the installation of a new kitchen by the fitters we have engaged. The kitchen will be installed whilst we are away, allowing the craftsmen uninhibited access to the work area, without us getting in the way.

It is truly remarkable how much clutter can accumulate over the years. With numerous drawers and cupboards, the temptation often arises to store items rather than discard them, thinking they might be useful someday. While this may be my wife's rationale, I must admit that I am likely guilty of this habit as well. We made reasonable progress, and I was planning to continue the work, until my wife announced she had a VAT return to complete, on behalf of one of her builder clients. She mentioned that she could work best if I went out, allowing her some peace and quiet. I was more than happy to accommodate her request, but where should I go?

In my free time, I have been trying to visit as many Heritage Pubs listed by CAMRA as possible. This isn’t a “time-bound” project, but much more of an open-ended “as and when” type of exercise However, I have already visited most of the ones within easy travelling distance, those located farther afield, require a lot more forward planning and attention, in order to tick them off the list. I have considered spending a couple of days in Brighton, where there are about six heritage pubs., but there are also other “hot spots” such as Canterbury, Faversham and Thanet. These destinations involve a fair amount of travel time, hence the idea of a few overnight stops, or the occasional, long weekend.

One suggestion, a little closer to home, and perhaps more accessible (incorrect, as it happened), was the tiny maritime settlement of Upnor, a place that is nothing more than a hamlet, situated on an inlet off the Medway estuary, to the northwest of Chatham, and on the opposite bank of the river. It’s a place I've visited before, although the last time I set foot there, must have been 30 years or more ago. Upnor is graced by a charming little pub called the Tudor Rose sited at the top of a hill which leads down to the river. The pub was free house when I first knew it, although today it belongs to Shepherd Neame and, as referenced earlier, is on CAMRA’s Heritage Pub website.

https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:ClemRutter

Also on the site, is the village’s second pub, the King's Arms, which is a little further in land. So, the opportunity to tick off a couple of national inventory, heritage pubs seemed too good to miss, but how to get there using public transport, was the issue stopping me. Taking the train to Strood, was the obvious answer, as an hourly service operates between the Medway towns and Paddock Wood, but the fly in the ointment, proved to be the infrequent bus service between Strood and Upnor. Running at two hourly intervals, and at the most inconvenient of times – no joined-up thinking when it came to connecting with local rail services, I quickly dropped that idea. There was the option of a two-mile walk from Strood station, but I am not a huge fan of walking through urban areas, or of post-industrial blight.

Another day, perhaps, but not on a bright and sunny spring day, when I could be enjoying the splendour of the beautiful Kent and Sussex countryside, rather than trudging through a series of soulless industrial estates. This was where the idea of repeating a bus journey along the B 2110, in the direction of East Grinstead, re-surfaced.  The aforementioned road skirts the northern edge of Ashdown Forest, and on is way west passes through a number of delightful and picturesque Wealden settlements. Groombridge, Withyham, Hartfield, Colemans Hatch and Forest Row are the principal places along this road, although on this occasion Coleman’s Hatch would represent my most westerly point. It was exactly the same, just over three years ago, when I used the 291 Metrobus, which runs hourly, in both directions, between Tunbridge Wells & East Grinstead.

It was a similar sunny day back in March 2022, and I had every intention of not just using the same route, but of following the same line of attack. For this plan to work, and to take full advantage of the time intervals between buses, it is necessary to take the 10:52 bus from Tunbridge Wells RVP, which will drop you at 11:23 opposite Holy Trinity church, at Coleman’s Hatch. 

From there it is a 10-minute, uphill walk towards the boundaries of the forest, and the lovely old Hatch Inn, an establishment which despite describing itself as a gastropub, still functions as a proper, atmospheric, country inn. Dating from 1430, as evidenced by its low ceilings and numerous old beams, the Hatch Inn has the advantage of opening early, at 11:30am. This allows time for a leisurely first pint of the day, before heading back down to the church, and the 12:02 Metrobus, service back towards Tunbridge Wells.

That’s the theory, but things didn’t quite go to plan on Friday, because I overslept, and didn’t get to Tunbridge Wells until 20 minutes after the departure of the 10:52 service. It’s my own fault for not setting the alarm clock, although in mitigation this oversight was out of respect to Mrs PBT’s, who is grumpiness personified, first thing in the morning. I was convinced that I would wake up in time, but sadly I didn’t, and despite rushing to get ready, left the house with no chance of catching a connecting bus over to Tunbridge Wells.

That unintended lie-in, had the potential of de-railing my carefully worked out, plan of attack, as it would only allow 20 minutes to walk up to the Hatch Inn, gulp down a pint, before rushing back, admittedly downhill, to take a bus going back towards Tunbridge Wells. That was why that first bus, plus the 11:30 opening with its extra 30 minutes wiggle room, were the keys to the success of the entire day’s beer sampling. When you’ve screwed up, and it’s your own fault, there’s not much you can do, except admit you were wrong, and then put Plan B into action. Before doing this I dived into the Opera House (T. Wells, JDW) for a consolation flat white, along with the chance to observe the mid-morning trade at this flagship Wetherspoon’s outlet.

I then boarded the 11:52 bus, and alighted at Groombridge, a village that I’d originally intended as the final destination on the tour. There was a valid reason for this, because the Crown Inn, a lovely old pub that overlooks the village green, keeps old fashioned hours, and closes between 3pm and 5pm. In order to do justice to the Crown, as well as the other three pubs I visited that afternoon, you can read my experiences of all of them in the next post, which I’m sure you will find interesting.