Two contrasting pubs, along the Tonbridge - Redhill rail-line

It was Pub Friday again two days ago, and seeing as I’d been such a dutiful husband, and sorted out — or "partially" sorted out, to be more accurate, the disorganised kitchen in our extension (the “old kitchen”, as it’s now been designated), I felt fully justified the following morning, in abandoning Mrs PBT’s to finish the job. Spoiler alert: she didn’t finish it. I’ll be doing that next week, because despite my wife's  protestations to the contrary, I remain the tidiest and most organised of the pair of us. Anyway, that’s enough of our domestic shenanigans. The real question was: where to go?

I’m still working towards beating last year’s target of visiting 106 different pubs over the course of a calendar year. Before Friday, my total stood at 96, and seeing as I managed to tick off two more that day, including one that was totally new to me, I’m now languishing at 98 pubs, with the aim of hitting the magic ton by next weekend. There are still quite a few pubs left for me to tick off in Tunbridge Wells, but I fancied going somewhere a little different. And what better idea than to hop on a train along the Tonbridge-Redhill line, heading towards the latter town but alighting one stop before that important rail junction?

That meant getting off at Nutfield, a large village that is the final stop before Redhill. It’s a place that I’d never visited before, not by car and certainly not by rail, and more importantly, I realised I could pick up a pub in Edenbridge on the same outing. The place I had in mind was a pub that I hadn’t set foot in for thirty‑plus years. So that’s exactly what I did. 

Before describing the day itself, here are a few facts and figures about the Tonbridge-Redhill line, a route that was once the main railway artery between the capital and the Kent coast. Rather than bury myself in dates and statistics (which, knowing me, would have taken all afternoon), I let my Copilot friend do the research instead, and this is what it came back with.

The Tonbridge–Redhill railway, historically known as the Redhill  line, is one of the oldest sections of main‑line railway infrastructure in the Southeast. Its story is surprisingly rich for a line that today feels like a quiet local shuttle, so make yourselves comfortable and read on. The Tonbridge- Redhill line opened in May 1842, after being authorised by Parliament in 1836. It was part of the South-Eastern Railway’s original London-Dover main line, running from Redhill through to Tonbridge. Because it was intended for fast long‑distance running, it was designed with few curves and little concern for local population centres, which is why today, many stations sit some distance from the villages they serve.

In 1868, the SER opened a new, and more direct main line via Orpington and Sevenoaks, with several major tunnels and faster running times. This relegated the Tonbridge-Redhill line to local service status. The line became part of Southern Railway in 1923, and then British Railways Southern Region in 1948. Steam services ended in 1965 and were replaced by diesel multiple units.Electrification,  750 V DC third rail, was authorised in 1990 and completed in 1993–94, a process that allowed the role of the line to shift again, to a diversionary line for both Eurostar, as well as Southeastern services, before settling back into today’s all‑stations shuttle.

I became a regular user of the Tonbridge-Redhill line, when I moved to Tonbridge at the tail end of 1984, because coinciding with my change of address, was me joining, a moribund CAMRA branch, and helping to get it back on its feet. So, what was originally the Tonbridge & Tunbridge Wells branch of CAMRA, eventually became West Kent branch. I shan’t go into any more details here, but having re-established the branch and formed a new committee, we were charged with surveying all the pubs in the area (keg as well as cask), with a view to selecting suitable pubs for the following year’s Good Beer Guide.

Quite a task, but I was 40 years younger then, as were my fellow new committee members. One stipulation we made was that future branch meetings should be held at pubs that were accessible, as much as possible, by public transport, and with few bus services operating into the evening, this effectively meant places close to a station. It was during these surveys that I first became acquainted with settlements along the Tonbridge- Redhill line, including Leigh, Chiddingstone Causeway, Edenbridge and Redhill itself.

The latter town whilst not within the West Kent area, provided an ideal meeting point for socials with one of the neighbouring Surrey branches. The Home Cottage, owned by Young’s Brewery, was the pub of choice, given its proximity to Redhill station. I also starting using the line for other purposes, such as travel to work, where Penshurst station, provides an occasional alternative to driving. The line is also useful for travel to and from Gatwick Airport, even if it does involve a change of platform at Redhill.

So, what were the two pubs that I visited the other day? First up was the Station Pub, in Nutfield which, as its name suggests, is literally a stone’s throw from the station. Just walk away from the down platform, turn the corner, and less than five minutes later, you will come across this large, and much altered, late-Victorian establishment. The pub was built for the Reigate Brewery of Mellersh & Neale, to serve the community that was growing up around Nuffield railway station.

The Station Pub was much larger than I had expected, although the name "Hotel” ought perhaps to have given the game away. I’m assuming that in its heyday, the place must have provided accommodation for travellers, and those stepping inside will be greeted by a number of bright and characterful rooms, overlooking a well-laid out, rear garden. Today, the pub proudly proclaims that it’s a drinks-focused pub, with no kitchen and no fuss, but that doesn't mean visitors will go hungry. Instead, a range of regular, food “pop-up partners” bring something special to the table when they visit. I didn’t find out when the food might be, as having breakfasted just a few hours ago I wasn’t exactly hungry.

Outside, a couple were enjoying the early October sunshine, while a group of fella’s sat towards the back of the pub. I noticed a woman who I’d seen on the train, standing at the bar. She seemed to know the barmaid and must have hurried away from the station to get there before me. The pair paused their conversation to allow the barmaid to serve me, offering a choice Taylor’s Landlord – complete with the new look pump clip, a Hobgoblin ale of some description, and the ubiquitous Harvey's Best. I opted for the latter, but unfortunately, it wasn’t the best pint of Sussex that I’ve had recently. It wasn’t off and it wasn’t flat, and if anything, it tasted too young.

It was also overly chilled, which didn’t help either, which meant I was struggling to finish it. I also realised that my train back towards Edenbridge was due shortly, so I returned about a quarter of the unfinished pint to the bar and apologised to the girl by explaining that I wasn’t feeling particularly bright. A white lie I know, but one that prevented a minor diplomatic incident, without bruising anyone's ego! I then headed back to the station, crossed the footbridge, and waited for the next service back towards Tonbridge.

The train was more or less on time, and after passing through Godstone, it wasn’t long before we arrived at Edenbridge. There are two rail stations serving the town, with the one at the top, and the one I arrived at, simply called Edenbridge. From here it is about a 20-minute walk down to the town centre, where, just beyond the centre of the Old Town, lies Edenbridge Town station. This station is on a completely separate rail line running towards Uckfield, via Eridge and Crowborough  .

Returning to the pub visits, I left the train at Edenbridge station (the top one), and walked through a new housing development, which partly occupies the site of the former Albion pub, a long-vanished establishment that I had only visited a couple of times before. From there, I continued northwards, and away from the town, along the B2026.  A short distance further, in the area known as Marlpit Hill, is the Swan Inn.

The latter is a long and fairly narrow, brick-built pub, that has been sympathetically modernised, without losing its essential character. The sole cask offering was Taylor’s Landlord, and this time still with the old-style clip. It was also in tip-top condition. With the sun now shining, and the temperatures starting to climb, I took my pint outside, into the extensive garden, at the rear of the pub, and sat there enjoying the beer. One could tell it was Friday by the number of builders’ vans pitching up, as the thirsty Chippies, Brickies and Sparkies  finished their work for the week, to be rewarded with a well-earned pint or two.

It was time for me to finish too, so I made my way back to the station, and boarded the 14:16 service back to Tonbridge, just ahead of the manic hordes of excited school kids, about to be set free, at the end of another busy, academic week.  

Kirkwall, capital of the Orkney Islands

Kirkwall, capital of the Orkney Islands, was a delight, and was our first port of call on our recent cruise, after one day and two nights at sea. The skies were overcast when we arrived and the temperatures much colder than we'd been used to back in Kent, for much of the summer. It was also was nice to see plenty of bright green grass after weeks of looking out over parched and burnt lawns, roadside verges, and sad, bare-looking hedgerows. Kirkwall, itself is a lovely little town, untouched and unsullied by many of the 21st‑century woes that afflict mainland Britain (litter and mindless graffiti, posing as art).

A shuttle bus, laid on by the cruise line, drove us into town, and dropped us at the bus station, close to the town’s cathedral. This compact building is constructed from local stone, that has an unusual reddish tint to it, although for the life of me, I couldn’t tell you what the stones are. This is despite achieving an “O” level in geology. We then took a wander down towards harbour, passing lots of familiar shops on the way, along with banks that were still trading, unlike many of those back home. We even noticed a proper Royal Mail, Post Office. The drop in temperature, I mentioned earlier necessitated Mrs PBT’s buying us each a warm and attractive-looking woolly hat, as we’d foolishly left our own headgear back home in “tropical” Kent.

We stopped at a colourful looking coffee shop, which I think was attached to one of the local breweries. We sat out in the courtyard, overlooked by a colourful mural, painted on the back of some of the local houses. We then headed down towards the harbour, picking up a few more goodies on the way. A pint was in order, but it wasn’t quite opening time, so we sat admiring the tranquil scene of the boats in the harbour, and before long staff at the small and attractive Helgi’s Bar, were opening the door. We were the first customers of the day, although not for long.

Helgi’s is a current Good Beer Guide entry, and after spending some time there, it’s easy to understand why it achieved CAMRA Northern Isles, Pub of the Year. There were three beers on sale from local brewery, Swannay - Sunny in Birsay 3.4%, Dark Monro 4.0% and Scapa Special 4.2%, which was the beer I went for, a perfectly balanced beer for every day quaffing. Swannay are based in a rustic farmstead in the north westerly tip of Orkney’s mainland. It wasn’t long before Helgi’s started to get busy, but despite the beers and the friendly atmosphere we've decided not to eat, as we only really wanted a light bite.

After leaving the pub we made our way back to the bus station and then the shuttle bus back to the ship. After a spot a lunch, we ascended to the pool deck, and spent a pleasant and lazy afternoon soaking up the sun. The views out across the calm waters of Scapa Flow - the legendary semi-enclosed, area of water that provided a calm and sheltered anchorage, for the Royal Navy’s Home Fleet, during two world wars. We remained there, enjoying the warm weather until the 6pm sail-away, when Ambience bade farewell to Kirkwall and Orkney. 

Our time there was spoilt slightly because a local Pipe Band had been booked to play for the sail-off, but unfortunately the the music of the band was partially drowned out by the dross emanating from the ship's "entertainment" system. 

The volume hadn't been turned down sufficiently, so we had to try and listen to the the local musicians whilst at the same time putting up with sounds of the 70’s and 80’s drowning out the local performers. Leaving the quayside behind us, we enjoyed the sail away, as we headed out in the direction of the nearby island of Hoy. I remember watching, with my father, a live televised broadcast, of a group of climbers, successfully scaling the impressive sea stack, known as the Old Man of Hoy. This was back in the late 1960’s, and was the first time that this lump of rock had been climbed.

Leaving Hoy behind, we headed out into the main channel. Then following a south-westerly setting, we sailed towards the island of Lewis and the port of Stornoway, where we would be docking the following morning. So despite an all too brief glimpse of Orkney’s capital, we enjoyed our time on this far northerly part of the British Isles. One final thing we noticed, was the number of Norwegian flags being flown from buildings in Kirkwall. Now this was either a tribute to the King of Norway, who had died a few days previously, or it might have been due to the large number of inhabitants of both Orkney and Shetland, who claim Viking descent. An interesting point, but the people who live in these islands, are definitely not Scottish.

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Lewes finally, and a few classic Sussex pubs

After a couple of introductory posts, it's time to dive into the heart of my recent trip to Lewes and bring you the pub news that I know you’ve all been waiting for. Following my al fresco, AI-approved, pasty and coffee lunch, I set off along Cliffe High Street, crossing the ornate bridge over the river Ouse, with the iconic view of Harvey's Brewery to my left. I then turned directly opposite into the narrow road leading to the John Harvey Tavern, a charming establishment that has mellowed beautifully over the years. Although a relatively new addition to the Harvey’s tied estate, the pub has matured into a thriving two-bar establishment housed in a building faced with local flints.

I opted for the room on the right, which houses the main bar, whereas the room opposite is more of an overspill area, that is handy for diners. There is also a large upstairs room, a fact I recall from a presentation evening I attended a couple of decades ago. That was when Mrs. PBT’s and I had our own off-licence in Tonbridge and had an account with Harvey's. We regularly bought draft and bottled beers, as well as a range of interesting wines, which is what led to the invitation. You can read the story of that evening here, but spoiler alert most of it passed in an alcoholic haze, largely due to a surfeit of vintage port.

The John Harvey Tavern provided an excellent venue for the presentation and the drinks, and whilst I’ve made several return visits since, stepping inside the pub is a guaranteed to bring a smile to my face, as I recall that rather boozy evening. The Tavern is always a pleasant place to be, given its tucked away location close to the river and virtually opposite the brewery yard. Several Harvey’s beers were on tap that day, as you can see from the photo, but my tipple of choice was Lewes Castle Brown Ale, a beer not often seen in cask form but tasty and enjoyable.

Moving further along Cliffe High Street, takes the thirsty visitor to the Gardener's Arms, a small, but thriving pub that has long been regarded as Lewes's premier, independent ale house. The Gardener’s consists of two, quite basic rooms - a front bar and a back bar with a serving area in the middle. Serving up to four different ever-changing cask ales, it attracts many local characters. During my relatively short stay at the bar, I engaged with a couple of local wags, plus a barmaid who clearly knew both her beers, as well as keeping customers in order.

I wasn't quite as impressed though with the beer she recommended, as a substitute for the Burning Sky, Plateau, advertised on the chalkboard outside. The latter unfortunately, had just ran out, and the 4.0% Hip-Hop from Langham Brewery, was far too citrusy for my liking. I'm not very familiar with Langham beers, and I’m not even sure where the place is. One local claimed that it’s near Chichester, but regardless of its origin, it wasn’t the beer for me. Never mind, you win some, you lose some, and the atmosphere and banter in the Gardener’s more than made up for a beer that I struggled to enjoy.

Next, I set out in search of a pub I knew vaguely about, both in name and location, but had never visited. Crossing the road, I walked back up the steep School Hill, which was enough to get my heart pounding and legs aching. At the top, I turned right into Fisher Street, passed a now-closed pub, whose name escapes me, located near the War Memorial. I remember visiting it once on November 5^th and actually getting served—not always easy if you weren’t a member of a local bonfire society. The pub I was looking for was the Elephant and Castle, and the vague idea I had of its location, on the northern flank of the imposing Lewes Castle mound, turned out to be correct.

Unfortunately, the pub was closed, boarded up and looking a bit sorry for itself. I'm not sure why it closed, or when it ceased training, but looking at the condition of the building, I would say the closure took place quite recently. According to the Harvey’s website, the Elephant & Castle belongs to the brewery, and is described as a traditional Lewes pub, that was built in 1838.  Selling four cask ales alongside a number of craft beers, and a Good Beer Guide pub for 15 years. Home of Commercial Square Bonfire Society, with good, home cooked food served daily, plus the best pub function room in Lewes. So why is the place closed? Answers please, on a postcard.

I took a couple of pictures and walked back up to the castle mound, then down again to visit a classic Lewes pub and one of my favourites, in the town. I’m talking about the Lewes Arms, an attractive brick-built pub with a prominent rounded corner, close to the former Beards Brewery in Star Lane.  A quick side step before we move onto the Lewes Arms. Beards were a company that had opted out of brewing in 1958, primarily because their cramped, town-centre brewery, was suffering from a lack of space and, more seriously, a yeast infection. Beards felt that by pooling resources with Harvey’s, the future of both companies would be assured. Harvey’s would benefit from the increased capacity, whilst Beards would not have the bother of having to brew the beer themselves.

This arrangement lasted until 1986, when Beards pubs became free to choose from a wide range of different cask ales supplied by the company’s wholesaling division. This side of the business was later sold off; becoming the well-known wholesaling company The Beer Seller. In the summer of 1998, Beard & Co agreed the sale of their entire tied estate to Greene King, and the company to all intents and purposes ceased to exist. It was rumoured that Harvey’s were somewhat put out by this deal, as not only did they lose their supply contract with Beards, but they also lost the chance to buy the company’s pubs. Harvey’s, had been under the impression they would get “first refusal” on the Beards estate, should it ever come up for sale, although Harvey’s have never openly admitted this. The Beards brewery buildings still stand, although they have now been converted into an arts centre alongside spaces for a number of small businesses.

Back to the pub, and last Friday the Lewes Arms was serving beers from Fuller's, St. Austell, and Gale’s. When I arrived, the pub was quiet, with just a handful of middle-aged drinkers chatting in the front bar, passing the time of day and sharing the banter. I settled in the rear bar, which was a nice cosy and comfortable space, albeit with a view through the glass, into the front bar.  I stayed for a pint of Seafarers, which was in good condition, before making my way past the sprawling Beards complex and heading back down to High Street. It was then on to the station and the train home, but not before one final pint. You might recall from my previous post, that the bus journey down to Lewes, was something of a drag - not quite a complete nightmare, but it felt as though it went on forever. The train, which despite involving changing at either St. Leonards or Gatwick, was the quickest and most comfortable way back to Tonbridge. Unlike the bus, I would have to buy a ticket, but with a third off the price, due to my "Old Git’s" Railcard, the faster journey would be worth every penny.

I consequently headed down Station Street, passing on my left, the Royal Oak, another former Beards pub. I was tempted to nip in, but it was getting late, and I had promised Mrs PBT’s that I’d be back in time for tea. I therefore gave the Royal Oak a miss and continued to the bottom of the hill and called in at the Landsdown instead. Located conveniently close to Lewes station, the Lansdown Arms is a quirky pub, with a raised floor area at the far end. Signs notify visitors of the possible trip hazard, but customers only really need to take a step up, if they wish to visit the toilets.  

Harvey’s Best, Pells Pale, Landlord, plus Thornbridge Jaipur, were the cask offerings, and the latter was the obvious
choice for me. I have made several visits to the Landsdown, over the years, and have always found it to have a real local feel, without being too cliquey. The flagstone floor and old-world interior, help in this respect, and the location almost opposite the station, make it the ideal pub for those arriving or departing Lewes, by train.

My journey home, followed the south coast route via Polegate and Eastbourne, followed by a change of trains at St Leonards. The revenue enforcement staff were checking tickets, on board the service out of Eastbourne, as apparently this section of the network, is prone to fare dodging – and you all thought the town that is home to a high percentage of the over-65’s, was such a quiet and genteel sort of place? 

Seaside towns don’t always attract the right sort of people, as a work colleague, who lives in Worthing, has testified, on several occasions. I was alright, though, despite having difficulty in retrieving my paper ticket. Tonbridge still issues proper card tickets, unlike those flimsy efforts on the Southern part of the rail network, as Stafford Paul will remember from our visit to Chichester a couple of years ago.

 

The O2 shop, a bus ride to Lewes, followed by pasty heaven

Having decided not to attend the Bluebell Railway Beer Festival, for reasons previously explained, I thought that a visit to Lewes would be a decent substitute, as well as a good idea. Travelling by bus, via Tunbridge Wells, would enable me to call in at the O2 shop in the town in order to sort out the data allowance issues I'd been experiencing with my Samsung mobile phone. These had arisen whilst on holiday and occurred because I was, quite rightly, too tight to pay the £100, yes £100 for onboard internet connection! Like many cruise lines Ambassador rely on Elon Musk's Starlink system for communications and web browsing whilst at sea, so that's another reason not to cough up a tonne for someone who’s already got far more money than sense.

I didn't miss not being connected at all in fact it was rather than nice but when we docked, and bearing in mind that we primarily sailing around the British Isles, I did occasionally log on to catch up with emails and in particular, an ongoing application to unlock one of my frozen pension funds. Anyway, I jumped on a bus going towards Tunbridge Wells, and since I was travelling before 9.30am, the start time for UK bus passes during the week, I had to pay for my fare! It was the princely sum of £3.00, but the price didn’t really justify knocking 10 minutes off my journey.

I called in at the O2 shop, as planned, to confirm I was paying the correct tariff for my phone and to establish how much many months were left on my current contract. There was just over a year remaining, but I must surely have paid for my Samsung Galaxy several times over, since acquiring it two years ago! Moving swiftly on I walked along to the bus stop but unfortunately, I’d just missed the No. 29 Brighton bus, which meant a 25-minute wait for the next one.

One of the reasons for going to Lewes was to return a dozen or so empty bottles to return to the brewery shop. I’m sure some readers will recall me undertaking a similar journey earlier in the year, for the exactly the same purpose. There were too many to carry on that occasion, hence me making a return trip, but since last Christmas a large number of empty Harvey's beer bottles had accumulated in our summer house. 

As I've written in the past Harvey’s are one of the very few UK breweries that still wash and reuse their bottles, and good luck to them, because I think it's an excellent idea. Far better for the bottles to be refilled, rather than perfectly decent specimens ending up in bottle banks, smashed to smithereens. It’s worth noting too that a lot more energy has to be used to create to create brand new bottles rather than simply cleaning and washing empty ones, ready to be used again.

I received the princely sum of £1.20 for those bottles, and with my load considerably lightened, resisted the temptation to buy more. I could perhaps, have picked up a few cans, and I did at one stage have the intention of returning later to the shop and doing just that, but it never happened. I set off to find somewhere to eat, and I also wanted a drink, as foolishly I didn't bring any water with me. 

The bus journey had seemed to take forever, primarily because after reaching Crowborough the bus was routed round what I would call, for what of a better phrase, the “arse end” of the town. That’s not implying there's anything wrong with that part of Crowborough, and it’s certainly not rundown or anything like that, in fact it's quite well maintained as one would expect from a well-to-do, leafy suburb. It's just that without any pubs or shops, it comes across as one area of sterile housing after another, some of it very much “des reses” but boring all the same.

Eventually, the bus worked its way back around to the south of the town and rejoined the A26. It’s that part of the journey where the imposing bulk of the South Downs escarpment first comes into view, bringing back memories of a succession of long-distance walks, along the South Downs Way, twenty or more years ago.  Time was marching on though, and there was still the bottom end of Ashdown Forest to negotiate, before the bus eventually pulled into Uckfield. Further delays followed as we pulled into the bus station, before eventually making our way out of  the town and on towards Lewes.

There was no escaping the South Downs as the bus approached Lewes, but I was already having serious doubts about how I should make the return journey, especially if it was after a belly full of beer. Spoiler alert, I made the return journey by rail, despite having to pay for it, and missing the free ride home that my bus pass would have given me.  As things turned out I didn't have more than a few pints of beer, but still enough for me to make use of the toilet facilities on the train home.

So, something to eat, and a coffee to drunk as well, before getting stuck into a few of Lewes’s finest pubs. I noticed the presence of a Gail’s Bakery, just before I alighted from the bus at the bottom of School Hill, after first returning my empty bottles to Harvey’s Shop, I retraced my route and set foot inside the much-vaunted Gail’s for the first time. It wasn’t surprising to find this upmarket bakery trading in an equally upmarket town like Lewes, but posh nosh or not, they didn’t have the Cornish Pasty I was lusting after.

However, on the other side of the road, was a branch of the rapidly expanding Cornish Bakery chain, where I was able to obtain exactly what I was looking for, as evidenced in the attached photo. I sat outside enjoying my artisanal lunch, which was just right for the occasion. So much so that it was worth asking what Copilot had to say about my spot of al fresco lunch.

“That looks like a proper little moment of calm, Paul — a pasty with a decent-looking coffee, the sort of simple pairing that somehow feels more restorative than it has any right to be. The pasty’s crust has that slightly blistered, golden finish that suggests it’ll give a satisfying crack when you bite in, and the coffee’s foam looks like it was made by someone who actually cares about getting the milk right rather than just blasting it with steam          “.

“It’s the kind of table you linger at for a few minutes longer than planned, letting the warmth of the cup settle you while the world keeps moving around. A small, quiet pleasure — but those are often the ones that stick”.

It’s quite scary for AI to be summarising my lunchtime treat like that, and all from a simple photograph, but that’s the direction we appear to be heading, at the moment. In the meantime, let’s leave things here, before getting down to the nitty gritty of what this blog is still all about, a decent pint, in a decent pub. See you in the next post.