The Man of Kent at Little Mill

As hinted at in the previous post, I notched up another “unique” pub for my collection, last Friday. The pub in question was the Man of Kent, at Little Mill, East Peckham, which reopened a couple of months ago, following a period of closure, that began at the start of this year. The Man of Kent was a pub that I’d been meaning to revisit for some time and would have done so earlier if other things hadn’t got in the way.

Dating back to the late 16^th century, the Man of Kent occupies a picturesque setting beside the River Bourne at Little Mill, a small settlement on the edge of East Peckham. With its low oak beams, roaring fireplace and waterside terraces, it remains one of the most attractive traditional pubs in the Tonbridge & Malling area. Described as a charming old free house with a cosy atmosphere and a good reputation for both cask ale and food.

For many years the pub has been the venue chosen by Mrs PBT’s and a group of her girly friends, for their annual, pre-Christmas get together. Unfortunately, the group were left feeling disappointed when the Man of Kent closed on 23 February 2026, following the departure of long-serving licensees, Neil and Shelly, after 18 years running the pub. The
pub then remained closed for almost four months before reopening under new publicans Jamie Rogers and Millie Jenkins on 18th June this year.

According to the local press, the reopening of the Man of Kent, has been warmly welcomed by locals and visitors alike, restoring one of the area's most cherished village pubs to its rightful place at the heart of the community. The new licensees have spoken of their desire to build on the pub's long-standing reputation as a welcoming community hub. In addition, they have pledged to maintain the character that made the pub so popular. They also want to re-establish the Man of Kent as a focal point for village life, with ambitions for live music, beer festivals and support for local produce and Kent breweries.

For many residents, the reopening represents far more than the return of a pub; it marks the revival of a much-loved meeting place that has been serving travellers, locals and visitors for decades, if not centuries. With this in mind, how could I not make that long planned return visit to the Man of Kent? The 208 Go Bus service operates at hourly intervals between Henwood Green, a small village close to Pembury, and East Peckham, conveniently running through Tonbridge on both the outward and homeward journeys. However, the fact that the midday service from Tonbridge Castle, wasn’t exactly the best start to my trip.

I persevered, and eventually the us turned up, albeit with no explanation from the driver. It is an approximate 17-minute journey from Tonbridge to Little Mill, a 17^th century mill house on the edge of the large, sprawling village of  East Peckham. It had been a while since my last visit, but after stepping off the bus and walking the short distance to the pub, it seemed that thankfully, little had changed internally.  There was around half dozen or so cars parked outside, and whilst the two bars weren’t exactly packed out, they weren’t empty either.

One thing about the Man of Kent that even short arses like me have to look out for, are the incredibly low ceilings. Despite being aware of this, I still managed to knock my head a couple of times. Were people really shorter in stature 400 years ago, or did they just scrimp on building materials? The lack of headroom at the Man of Kent, is a feature that Mrs PBT’s really isn’t keen on, and she’s not exactly that much taller than me.  The other aspect that is immediately apparent upon stepping inside, is the large, open fireplace dividing the front part of the main bar, with just about sufficient space to squeeze by either side.

There were three cask ales on offer, Taylor’s Landlord, the ubiquitous Harvey’s Best, plus a beer from Tonbridge Brewery. I opted for the Landlord, which was drinking well. I waited until I was back in Tonbridge, as the food available in the bar was a little on the dear side. As regular readers will know, the price of bar food in this part of the south-east, is a regular gripe of mine, but the cost didn’t seem to put off the two parties that were eating in the pub.

And that’s about it really, apart from saying there was only a 10-minute wait for the bus back, rather than a 20 minute one. The journey itself, takes you though some very pleasant rural countryside, as well as the village of Golden Green, home to the Bell, public house, an establishment that seems to be getting some good, online reviews, and a place that I’ve bookmarked for a future trip out on the 208 bus.

November and already, the clock is ticking

I’m slacking somewhat in my quest to break my record of visiting as many “unique” pubs as possible, especially after hitting the magic 100 at the middle of last month. Some might accuse me of “resting on my laurels”, although in self-defence, I’ve had several other distractions that I’ve had to attach more importance to.

The first of these is my impending retirement which, after 50 years of being a wage slave, can’t come quick enough. I mentioned previously how, after a few, ill-conceived changes within the company, has managed to completely change the dynamics of the organisation. The end result being, the place is no longer somewhere that I enjoy attending, and whilst with the benefit of that wonderful thing called “hindsight”, it would have been sensible two years ago, when I was approaching that biblical milepost of  “three-score years, and ten”, but it was not to be.

Life is full of “should have done” and “ought to have done”, but I didn’t, and it’s been quite a sharp learning curve getting myself up to speed with the world of company pensions. This is really practical stuff that ought to be taught at school, but of course it isn’t. So, after immersing myself in the world of annuities, pension drawdowns, deferment, and more that a bit of crystal ball-gazing, I’m finally seeing some clarity.

I’ve set a provisional retirement date of the start of March 2027, and whilst I’ve dropped a few hints to a few of my more trustworthy colleagues, I haven’t yet handed in my notice. This brings me on to the other distraction, which is our upcoming cruise, the third one of the year, and also the longest. I won’t go into too much detail here, although I expect I shall upon our return. Suffice to say I shall only be taking one suitcase, as opposed to my wife’s three.

We shall probably need to cut our cloth accordingly, once I do depart from the world of work, but like this forthcoming voyage, which has been paid off on a monthly basis, the same applies to the sailing booked for next June. Nevertheless, I’m looking forward to taking more short breaks closer to home, and the freedom and mobility afforded by not being tied to a particular employer, the UK will be our oyster, alongside the more occasional trip overseas.

This was meant to be the lead into a post concerning a relatively nearby pub that reopened, a few months ago, following a period of closure. It’s a heartening tale of renewal and coming back from the dead, so to speak, and it’s also a story of resilience that proves the resilience of the pub trade, despite all the pitfalls, barriers and restraints imposed on it, by modern Britain. Until next time then, where there’s something a little more in keeping with the spirit and the usual ethos of this blog.

Five more books at bedtime

We return to the “Book at Bedtime” themed series which, is now in its eighth incarnation. Reading a few pages, or perhaps even a whole chapter, of a book is a great way to relax and unwind, especiallyafter a busy day, and where better to come back to earth after a hectic day, than lying in bed.

This edition features a couple of biographies, two action packed, and rather violent thrillers of the type I wouldn’t normally be interested in, plus an old favourite author in the guise of Ernest Hemingway. The books aren’t reviewed in chronological order of me reading them and actually begin with the one that I’ve just finished.

First up is "Stalin's Englishman: The Lives of Guy Burgess". Written and meticulously researched by Andrew Lownie, this fascinating biography of Guy Burgess, examines the extraordinary and contradictory life of a person, best described as deeply flawed individual, became one of the Soviet Union's most damaging Cold War spies. This was, despite, or perhaps because of him being a member of Britain's elite. Drawing on extensive research, newly available files, and interviews with people who knew him, Lownie portrays Burgess as a brilliant, charming, and charismatic figure who rose through Cambridge University, the BBC, the Foreign Office, and British intelligence while secretly working for the Soviet Union.

Guy Burgess has the dubious honour of being one of the most notorious members of the Cambridge spy ring, and Lownie’s detailed work explores how this deeply flawed figure used his intelligence, social connections, and personal charisma to gain access to highly sensitive information, passing thousands of secret documents to his Soviet handlers. The work also examines Burgess’s chaotic private life, marked by heavy drinking, scandalous behaviour, and complex personal relationships, and asks why he chose to betray his country and what impact his actions had on the Cold War. Far from depicting Burgess as a minor player among the "Cambridge Five", Lownie argues that he was one of the most influential and effective Soviet agents ever to operate within the British establishment.

I would go further and say that as well as being a traitor, Guy Burgess was an absolute shit, who seemingly drifted through life, following the route offered to the well-to-do by English high society, with an education at Eton and then Cambridge, taking full advantage of the privileges and perks offered by such an upbringing. After betraying his country, Burgess fled to the Soviet Union in 1953, along with fellow traitor and spy, Donald Maclean. He died there, 10 years later, as a result of his unhealthy lifestyle.

We then move on to a work that is a little lighter, but no less interesting, and it is another biography. This time we follow the story of Denys Finch Hatton, a complex figure, who was an adventurer, aristocrat, big-game hunter, pilot, and restless seeker of freedom, who is best remembered today through his relationship with Karen Blixen, author of "Out of Africa".

"Too Close to the Sun", by Sara Wheeler, is a compelling and well-researched biography which presents Finch Hatton as a complex and often contradictory figure, who had far more to offer the world beyond his romantic attachment to Danish settler, plantation owner and novelist, Ms Blixen. Drawing on extensive archival research, Wheeler paints a vivid picture of colonial East Africa and the social world in which Finch Hatton moved. She is careful not to romanticise either the man or the era, exploring both the glamour and the darker realities of colonial society.

The result is a portrait of a charismatic individual whose life was marked by privilege, risk-taking, and an inability to settle. Elegantly written and rich in historical detail, "Too Close to the Sun" is an absorbing read for anyone interested in African history, biography, or the real story behind "Out of Africa". Wheeler succeeds in bringing Finch Hatton out from the shadow of myth and revealing the fascinating, flawed individual beneath.

Next up is the modern thriller series, that is the Jack Reacher novels, written by prolific English author, Lee Child, and centred on the character of a former US Army Military Police major who owns little more than the clothes he is wearing, travels without a fixed home, and answers to no one. Free from the constraints of ordinary life, he can drift into trouble anywhere and confront it on his own terms. In essence, the series succeeds because Jack Reacher embodies a rare literary hero: a modern-day knight-errant, wandering from town to town, righting wrongs and moving on before the dust has settled.

Reacher’s combination of intelligence and physical strength makes him a formidable fighter, who wins as many battles through observation, logic and determination as through force. Each novel places him in a new location, facing a fresh mystery or injustice, creating a satisfying blend of detective story, action thriller and moral crusade. The books are surprisingly accessible, and their fast-paced plots, sharp dialogue and clear prose make them easy to pick up, and difficult to put down, even though they weren’t the type of novels I would normally read.

I’ve a work colleague to thank for this, as we ended up swapping books over the summer, with me lending her the set of Philip Pullman books that together make up the "Book of Dust", trilogy, in exchange for two of the Jack Reacher novels. I did, however, find one of the novels – "The Visitor", particularly disturbing, although if you really want to know why, then I suggest you get yourself a copy. In fairness though, Reacher’s unwavering sense of justice and his willingness to stand up to bullies, criminals and corrupt authorities offer a powerful wish-fulfilment fantasy that resonates with readers around the world.

Finally, "The Sun Also Rises", the first major novel by one of my favourite authors, Ernest Hemingway, and one of the defining works of the so-called, "Lost Generation" - young
men and women disillusioned by the First World War. The story follows Jake Barnes, an American journalist living in Paris after the First World War. He is in love with the glamorous but unattainable Lady Brett Ashley. Along with a group of expatriate friends, they travel to Pamplona in Spain, where love, jealousy and disillusionment come to a head during the famous bullfighting festival.  On the surface, the novel is a story about travel, friendship and romance. Beneath this, Hemingway explores themes of disillusionment, lost ideals, masculinity, love, and the search for meaning in a world transformed by war. His spare, understated prose style became highly influential in twentieth-century literature.

The novel ends on a bittersweet note. Jake and Brett acknowledge the happiness they might have shared under different circumstances but recognise that their love can never be fully realised. The closing lines encapsulate the novel's mixture of longing, regret and acceptance. In essence, "The Sun Also Rises" is both a vivid portrait of a generation adrift after the First World War and a compelling story of love, friendship and personal loss.

Footnote: with another cruise holiday, looming on the horizon, I've got a couple more books to keep me occupied, whilst lounging out on the sundeck, or for last thing at night, before nodding off. Details to follow, once I've read them, along with a few more. As ever though, all recommendations and suggestions will be gratefully received, and carefully considered. 

 

A brief moment of relaxation, with a classic seasonal beer

Just a quick post to round off October, a month that has seen its usual share of contrasting moments, and I’m not talking here about the weather. In case anyone has been wondering what I’ve been up to, it’s mainly boring stuff, although some of it is quite important, especially sorting out my various pension pots, ahead of my forthcoming retirement.

The latter is looking like the beginning of March, next year, although that’s provisional at the moment. One thing what has definitely come to light is the absolute maze of confusing schemes, offered by a much too wide range of different pension providers, and fund managers. It’s a far cry from the old days when people, by and large, stayed with same company, or organisation, slowly navigating their way, up through the ranks, before stepping down gracefully, and picking up a generous “Final Salary” pension at the end of it all.

Unfortunately, those days are long gone, as most employers can’t afford the costs associated with “Defined Benefit” – Final Salary schemes. In their wake have come a whole procession of “Defined Contribution” pension plans which, rely on a raft of different options, all ultimately dependent on the stock market, and company financial performances. It’s not an easy route to navigate, as this isn’t the type of forward thinking that is taught in schools, even though it should be.

Instead, there are a host of different investment firms, all promising high returns on one’s hard-earned savings, when all that they’re really after is your hard-earned savings. It’s not just a minefield, but an over-complicated sector, and with the help of friends and colleagues, it’s one that is slowly becoming easier and more transparent.

It’s also proved quite a distraction, taking me away from things that I’d much rather be doing, such as, or sorting things out in both house and garden, and of course going to the pub! Earlier today, I broke my own rule about drinking during  work time, but with Larkin’s Porter on tap, I was prepared to make an exception.  My first pint this season of this full-bodied, but highly quaffable, seasonal, dark ale was enjoyed sitting in the surprisingly warm, mid-autumn sunshine outside the Greyhound, at Charcott. With the sun shining warm on my face, the peace and quiet of this lovingly restored country inn, provided just the reality check I was looking for.

As I said, this was my first taste this of excellent seasonal ale and was a just reward for having missed the beer last weekend, when it featured amongst the line-up at Tonbridge Fuggles. This short, 20-minute break was also the perfect moment of relaxation, before returning my empty glass to the bar, and setting off back to the office, along the lanes.

 

Brewing themselves out of business

Before we finish with Faversham, there’s one last area I want to talk about, and it’s one that is particularly relevant to the recent brewery closure announcement that has come from Danish brewing giant, Carlsberg. If you haven’t been sleeping these past few weeks, you will be aware that the brewer of what many would regard as “the worst lager in the world”, are looking to close the historic Marston’s Brewery, in Burton-on-Trent. The closure is scheduled to take place next summer with the Danes citing falling demand for cask beer, within the UK market.

Faversham represents a much smaller version of Burton, although the same principles apply. Fortunately, Shepherd Neame, who are the UK’s oldest surviving brewery, continue to brew in the town, even though I have to say their beers are not my favourite. Thirty-five years ago, there was about another brewery in Faversham, literally just across the road from Shepherd Neame’s Court Street premises. This substantial enterprise was the former home of George Beer & Rigden Ltd whose beers were marketed throughout the county, under the well-known “Kent’s Best" branding.

Few drinkers today, will have heard of the company, although they may well remember the company who bought them out.  This was Maidstone-based, Fremlin’s Ltd, whose “Elephant Brand Ales” were a familiar sight to Kentish drinkers. Up until the last quarter of the 20^th century, Fremlin’s were also the largest brewery in Kent, particularly in terms of number of pubs owned – roughly 700 pubs, at their peak, but in 1967, Whitbread acquired a controlling interest in the company. Five years later, in 1972, brewing operations at Maidstone ceased, and whilst the site continued as a distribution centre, all production was moved to Faversham.

Brewing continued at Court Street until 1990, when production ceased, but I can remember a couple of visits to the brewery, as part of a local CAMRA party, back in the 1980’s. The facility was very much alive and kicking back then, turning out Fremlin’s Bitter (marketed initially as Trophy Bitter, before the Fremlin’s name was re-instated). For a while, during that period, a stronger, and full-bodied bitter, called Tusker, was produced, the beer being named after Fremlin’s famous elephant mascot.

I was intrigued, and delighted last week, to discover that most of the Court Street Brewery buildings are still standing, and deservedly so, as they represent an attractive group of late Victorian industrial buildings, and whilst most have been re-purposed for a variety of other purposes, they form a reminder of what was once one of Kent’s largest brewery companies. 

One of the buildings is now home to a large Tesco Superstore, and I’m kicking myself now for not venturing inside, for a quick look. The truth was I was running on a tight time schedule, having promised Mrs PBT’s that I’d be back in time for tea. (That didn’t work, due to a couple of late running trains, and I’m still not sure whether she believed me!) However, this error on my part, doesn’t preclude a return visit, and the "trouble & strife" can accompany next time, having expressed an interest in this over-sized Tesco.

Now I've gone a little off-piste here, but what I am really trying to convey is the sheer physical scale of breweries such as Beer & Rigden at Faversham, which itself reflects on the volume of beer produced a century or so ago. The same was true of Fremlin's in Maidstone, whose brewery occupied a substantial site in the heart of the county town, overlooking the river Medway. These sites were not just collections of buildings; they were industrial complexes, dominating their local landscapes and providing employment for generations.

Going back a little further, Maidstone was once home to another brewing giant. The premises of Style & Winch stood close to the river and were every bit as imposing as Fremlin's. Following the takeover by London brewers Barclay Perkins, brewing continued at Maidstone for many years, surviving even after the formation of Courage & Barclay. I can just about remember the brewery in operation. During a visit to Maidstone with a school friend, we ventured into the Seven Grays, a now long-demolished riverside pub that stood close to the brewery. It was a Courage house, notable at the time for serving cask beer, something of a rarity within the Courage estate. Today, the entire area has vanished beneath road improvements and a new bridge across the Medway, leaving little trace of the brewing industry that once dominated this part of town.

The point, though, is not simply one of nostalgia. Looking at old photographs of breweries such as Beer & Rigden, Fremlin's, or Style & Winch, one cannot help but wonder just how much beer these vast establishments were capable of producing. Their footprints covered acres, with brewhouses, maltings, cooperages, stores and bottling plants stretching across town-centre sites that would be almost unthinkable today. The same logic applies when considering famous brewing centres such as Burton upon Trent. Burton's success left it with an enormous concentration of brewing capacity, much of it built to satisfy levels of demand that no longer exist. Beer consumption in Britain has fallen dramatically over the past half-century, leaving the industry with far more production capacity than the modern market requires.

Whilst hard figures are often difficult to come by, this surplus capacity goes some way towards explaining why historic sites have continued to close. Marston's decision to cease brewing at its historic Shobnall Road brewery is one example. Yet the major brewers hardly helped themselves during the 1970s and 1980s, when they invested heavily in a new generation of highly automated "mega-breweries".

These enormous beer factories were frequently constructed close to motorway networks to simplify distribution. Courage built the vast Worton Grange brewery overlooking the M4 near Reading. Whitbread opened large-scale plants at Salmesbury, near Preston and the M6, and at Magor in South Wales. Bass, meanwhile, developed its notorious brewery at Runcorn. The inevitable consequence was the closure of many older breweries, often bearing famous local names and producing well-known regional beers.

None of this is intended as an excuse for the actions of multinational brewing groups or the asset-stripping that sometimes followed. However, it does help explain the commercial pressures that drove many of the decisions. By the late twentieth century, Britain possessed far more brewery capacity than it needed, and once production became concentrated in a handful of modern super-breweries, the fate of many historic sites was effectively sealed.

I think the strongest point here is that the closure of breweries such as Beer & Rigden was not purely the result of corporate greed. There was also a genuine overcapacity problem. A useful comparison might be that Britain in the 1950's and 1960's was still geared to supplying a nation drinking over twice as much beer per head as it does today. When consumption began its long decline, something had to give, and unfortunately, it was often the older town-centre breweries that paid the price.

 

Faversham revisited - Pt. 2

Next up was the Anchor, a pub that wasn’t on my original list, but I’m pleased now that I took a punt on this lengthy oak-beamed building that is over 300 years old. Situated close to the quayside and boat moorings at Faversham Creek, I’m fairly certain that I hadn’t visited this nautical themed establishment before on previous visits to Faversham. From the outside, the pub looks like three different buildings joined into one, and I suppose it may well have
been, at one stage during the past. Internally, there are many original features, including a number of open fireplaces, along with a wealth of nautical memorabilia.

I ended up in the right-hand bar, where there was a lively group of local drinkers, sitting at the bar and catching up on the local gossip – people they’d seen recently. The group ignored me, as I sat at the far end of the bar, nursing my pint of Master Brew, and here follows an interesting observation. In the three Shep’s pubs that I visited that day, I didn’t spot a single pump offering Spitfire – the beer that at one time was probably the brewery’s best-selling cask ale, and certainly the most heavily promoted. 

Two of the pubs were offering the seasonal Late Red on hand-pump, but apart from that it was Master Brew all
the way. Departing from the Anchor, I headed back into town, passing on the way the attractive-looking Phoenix Tavern. This is a Faversham pub that I might have been in before, although I couldn’t be sure. One thing I did notice was the large sign outside, looking for new licensees willing to take a chance on running the pub.  Good luck to anyone brave enough to try, especially in today’s climate, but a publican’s life is not the one for me.

I continued my journey into the town centre, with the aim of visiting two further pubs before my train home. The first of these was going to be the Railway, a pub mentioned right at the start of this piece, but I ended up being distracted by the Creeker's Tap, a conversion from a former glazing shop that that opened as a pub in late 2016. This relative newcomer started life as the Corner Tap, before adopting its present name during Covid.

The Tap was refurbished in October last year, and in its present guise consists of two rooms with some solid and comfortable furniture, plus a lounge type area with a Chesterfield and armchairs in the room at the rear. The pub is also air-conditioned, a feature that would have been a major attraction two or three months ago. The Tap features 17 keg taps, from a row on the back wall, plus a couple of cask ales.

The main attraction for me was the availability of Tegernsee Spezial, an import from southern Bavaria, and a beer I have enjoyed on a couple of occasions at the, down to earth, brewery tap, overlooking the shores of Lake Tegernsee, to the south of Munich. This idyllic scene, set against the background of the Bavarian Alps, is one of the best places I know to enjoy Tegernsee beer, in a location that has monastic origins. Also, coming after the rather bland Master Brew that I’d been chugging all day, this alpine brew was far and away the best beer of the day.

It was time for one final beer, plus one last pub, and where better to finish at than the Elephant - a long time CAMRA favourite, situated at the back of Faversham railway station. This two-roomed traditional, no-frills pub, with a function room at the back, provides a warm welcome to locals and visitors alike.  I’d obviously picked a quiet time as apart from the friendly girl behind the bar, there was just me plus one other customer. Both of these people were welcoming and chatty, and this is a feature that the Elephant has always endeavoured to encourage.

The establishment was local CAMRA Branch Pub of the Year in 2023 and again in 2026. There is a fine hanging pub sign, at the front of the pub that has been restored to its rightful place after many years of exposure to the elements.  The sign features the famous Elephant, that for many years was the trademark of the former Fremlin’s Brewery. The pub’s landlord is a former member of the “Senior Service” and prides himself on serving a range of cask ales that occasionally includes a beer that has been allowed to mature in the cellar.

The pub has received numerous CAMRA awards consistently over the years. The only cloud on the horizon is that the landlord is looking to retire but has had difficulty in attracting the “right” buyer. This means a person who will keep the pub much as it is today, and without changing too much. Fingers crossed he can attract the right buyer. 

Ribersborg Stout from Shivering Sands Brewery, was my final pint of the day, and was a good one to end my exploration of, what turned out to be, just a few of Faversham’s many pubs. If you appreciate unspoilt pubs as much as I do, and are not too fussed about drinking Shepherd Neame beer, then this pleasant north Kent town is well worth a day trip, or perhaps even a longer stay.

Faversham re-visited, Pt 1

Stepping off the train at Faversham station last Friday, a minute or two after midday, brought back quite a few memories. The four-platform station is more extensive than I remember but not untypical of other stations further along the line, at places such as Margate and Ramsgate. I ascended the steps, crossed the road and right in front of me was the Railway Hotel, an imposing and attractive red brick late, Victorian public house. Like many pubs in this pleasant north Kent town, the Railway is owned by Shepherd Neame, who are Britain’s oldest brewery – see below.

I left the Railway for that final, pre return train pint and carried on towards the town centre, where I was making for two classic Shepherd Neame pubs that I remembered from previous visits. On the way, down I passed an attractive looking boozer, called the Limes. I also bookmarked that one for later as well, and carried on  Faversham retains a remarkably intact historic core, with a well preserved medieval and Georgian townscape, with parts dating back to Saxon times. In 811AD, a royal charter established Faversham as an important Saxon estate., and then in 1147–48, Faversham Abbey was founded by King Stephen and Queen Matilda. The abbey became the town’s dominant institution for nearly 400 years until its dissolution in 1538.

Local tradition holds that the abbey’s monks recognised the quality of Faversham’s spring water for brewing. This tradition continued, and in 1698 Shepherd Neame was founded. Today Shep’s are Britain’s oldest brewer and are still operating in the town centre. From the 16th century, Faversham became one of Britain’s earliest centres of gunpowder production. Its mills supplied explosives for military and industrial use until the early 20th century. A catastrophic explosion in 1916 killed over 100 workers and marked the industry’s decline. The historic feel to the town centre, is evidenced by the many half-timbered buildings, overlooking narrow streets, and winding little alleyways. The fact that much of the traffic has been diverted away from the town centre, makes walking around Faversham a pleasure rather than an experience to be wary of, but what about the pubs that I visited?

First on the list was the Bear Inn, situated in the town’s Market Place, and one of the oldest pubs in Faversham. Stepping in through the front door, visitors can either continue straight ahead, through an internal door or, do as I did and turn directly right through another door. The former option leads to two further bars, both leading off the corridor, whilst the latter opens straight into what can best be described as a “snug” bar. With bare wooden floors, wooden seating and walls decorated with various Shepherd Neame Brewery artefacts, and beer dispensed from an ancient bank of beer engines perched on the counter, this really was like stepping back in time.

Apart from me, the only other customer in the bar was a middle-aged lady perched on a bar stool, absorbed in reading the local newspaper.  She had a dog with her, but apart from that she wasn't at all chatty. I too, decided that silence was the best policy, so instead just enjoyed sitting there soaking up the atmosphere of this lovely old pub. Unfortunately, I later discovered that the Bear offered the reasonably priced food options that I spent much of the next couple of hours, looking for! Oh well, you can’t win them all, and it kind of serves me right for not doing my homework, thoroughly
enough.

I didn't have far to go to the second pub, but before stepping inside, the Sun Inn, I took a stroll along into West Street where there was a small market going on. There were some interesting items for sale, although as none appealed to me that much, I adjourned to the historic Sun Inn, an attractive and multi-roomed 14^th century pub, sited in the town’s conservation area. 

The Sun is brimming with a number of intriguing original features, including several inglenook fireplaces, oak beams plus a lovely courtyard garden, that is accessed from the middle bar. As well as being popular with local diners, the pub has eight characterful bedrooms providing stylish accommodation. Shepherd Neame beers again, although as with the Bear, the Master Brew Bitter was at least quite quaffable.

I was feeling peckish by this time, so after leaving the Sun I headed off in a westerly direction towards the quayside, at Faversham Creek. On the way I called in at Crusts, a local bakery offering filled rolls and, according to the shop sign, so much more. The rolls did indeed appear tempting, but not as tempting as the Cornish Pasty I ordered, direct from the hot cabinet. It provided the solid sustenance I was craving, so I sat out on a bench opposite the shop, enjoying this ideal, lunchtime snack. The sun too, was shining by this time, which was a welcome change from the rain that had followed me eastwards, across the county, all the way from Tonbridge.                    

To be continued.................................................................................................