The Holy Goat is coming along nicely

After my preliminary visit to the Holy Goat, almost a month ago now, I thought it was high time that I gave this latest addition to Tonbridge's drinking scene a further try. The recent May Day holiday seemed as good as any for another look, although if I'm honest, I managed to squeeze in a visit a couple of weeks previously. The slightly chaotic scenes described in my initial piece, had fortunately disappeared, and a responsible and more mature crowd seems to have taken over. Even better is the appearance on the bar of a handpump, dispensing Harvey's Best Bitter - what else?

The Holy Goat describes itself as a friendly neighbourhood pub. Situated  roughly halfway along  Pembury Rd in Tonbridge, the pub serves good food and offers a warm and friendly welcome to regular and casual customers alike. As the Goat's website says, the new management have given a fresh start to a much-loved old pub, and have achieved this by keeping much of the original character. They have added some great food, that includes the renowned Saint John’s Yard burgers, complete with filthy sides (whatever that might entail) because, if you haven't already guessed, the Goat is owned and managed by the same people who run the slightly off-beat Saint John’s Yard, in Tunbridge Wells.

As its name might suggest SJY is situated in the St John's area of the town, which lies between Southborough and the top end of Tunbridge Wells. To my great shame, I have never set foot in SJY in either its current incarnation, or under its older, and far more traditional name of the Red Lion. Eighteen months ago, I attended my firm's Christmas bash, at the next-door Shuffle House, although my understanding is this establishment too is currently closed, awaiting a further make-over. Perhaps it will revert to being a traditional pub, or it that too unusual, and too much to ask? Whilst on the subject of Shuffle Board, it's worth pointing out that Molo Brew, a cavernous craft beer establishment, close to the cruise terminal in the lovely Norwegian town of Ǻlesund, had a couple of shuffle board tables.

I realised that I haven't written anything, so far, about Ǻlesund, but that will have to wait, and returning to the Holy Goat, the pub seems to be doing well. The amended pub sign is still missing though, an issue the Goat's manager isn't very happy about, because, as he told me, some people still haven't caught onto the pub being open. He has chased the sign writer on several occasions, and each evening, as I drive past, I look - so far in vain, for the appearance of the new pub sign

There is a secluded and well-laid out garden at the rear of the Goat, which is set at a slightly lower level. During the recent, but now annoyingly vanished, hot spells the garden with its wooden pods along the edges, has proved extremely popular, particularly with family groups. No photos then, for the time being and at least until the weather changes, or the garden is empty. The garden does seem a popular meeting place for catching up with friends, popping in for a quiet pint or settling in for a long warm, summer evening. The pub itself is developing into a friendly local, and is a welcome addition to the .  Tonbridge pub scene.

MS Ambience - a few thoughts and observations

A month or so after returning from our Norwegian adventure, and its heavy seas, I realised that I hadn't written much about Ambience, the cruise ship we sailed on, or the cruise line, Ambassador, behind our voyage. Choosing this particular operation wasn't quite a spur of the moment decision, but it was strongly influenced by Mrs PBT's and I looking for a holiday that would provide a welcome break between Christmas and Easter, a period where it seems as though winter is never going to disappear and spring is never going come along. 

A voyage to the Norwegian Fjords seemed like a good idea, so we looked at cruises heading in that direction, with particular reference to our cruise-line of choice (up until that time at least), on Cunard. Unfortunately, the Cunard voyage to the Fjords that was our cruise of choice, was already fully booked - or at least with regard to the class of accommodation we wanted. That was when we decided to give Ambassador a try. 

A couple who we'd met on a previous cruise, and who Eileen had kept in touch with, had given a glowing report on this cruise line, so with nothing to lose I picked up the phone, and managed to book a 16 night cruise to the Norwegian Fjords. We secured a good deal, largely due to an early booking, and for allowing the cruise line to allocate our room, whilst remaining within a certain band of cabins. What was even better, was Ambience sailing from Tilbury, a port that is just 45 minute's drive from home, as opposed to two hours, plus to Southampton - home port for the majority of the major cruise lines.

So, what are Ambassador like to sail with? Well, they're obviously different from the likes of Cunard, but as far as service and food is concerned, both Eileen and I enjoyed the experience. What was particularly refreshing was the absence of the snobbery that is sometimes quite evident on board Cunard. In addition rooms are referred to as cabins, rather than the  pretentious "State Room" moniker, used by Cunard. The staff are friendly and hard working, a trait that applies to the vast majority of cruise ships. 

We discovered that on Ambience, our room steward worked as a waiter in the buffet, for the evening shift. This meant there was no evening "Turn Down", as found on Cunard, where the top sheet, your already made-up bed, is turned down in readiness for you to slide into, and there are no chocolates laid out on your pillow. The latter touch, in particular, is an unnecessary extravagance, and one that the customer ultimately ends up paying for. Cunard are almost certainly thinking along the same lines, and are rumoured to be dropping this practice.

I personally think that the cabins on Ambience are laid out far better than those on Cunard ships, with what in effect is a "walk-in" wardrobe area, that separates the bathroom area from the rest of the room. In addition, thanks to strategically-sited magnets, the cabin doors can be held open, when necessary, thereby making any deliveries to the room, much easier. A small point, perhaps, but when you witness the waiting staff on Cunard, struggling to hold the spring-loaded doors open with their feet, or even their backsides, whilst manoeuvring into the room with a tray loaded with your morning breakfast, this simple little trick makes life a lot easier for all concerned.

I'm going to gloss over the onboard entertainment, as this applies equally to Ambassador as well as Cunard, but basically I've never been a fan of "West End" style shows. Mrs PBT's is rather more ambivalent towards such presentations, but as she has an irrational fear of contracting something nasty in a crowded theatre - and that applies to being on dry land, as well as at sea, she is unlikely to drag me off to one of these shows. 

Lectures, and similar style presentations are a different beast, and we have both seen, and listened to some really good talks. Cunard have the edge over Ambassador, probably before they've got a lot more financial clout, and they also have the advantage of the talk/presentation being streamed, directly into passengers cabins. Guests can then either watch live, or play catch-up, at their leisure, later on. There is also live music, but many of the covers bands engaged to "entertain" passengers, leave much to be desired when it comes to raw talent.

Ambassador Cruise Line was established in 2021 by Christian Verhounig, who was the former CEO of Cruise & Maritime Voyages, a company which went into administration in 2020. Ambassador are a British cruise line, with their headquarters in Purfleet. The company launched with the purchase of its flagship MS Ambience in May 2021 and commenced sales to the public in the following month. Ambassador tailors towards premium-value no fly cruises which target the adult market, including over 50s. Ambience is one of the oldest cruise ships still operating, having started life as the Regal Princess, operated by Princess Cruises. The vessel was constructed at the Fincantieri shipyard in Monfalcone, Italy, and the elegant Italian design, is still evident in the ship today.

Despite the choppy seas, and stormy weather experienced on our recent voyage along the coast of northern Norway, Eileen and I enjoyed our time aboard the Ambience, so much so that we have booked a further cruise, but one that will be sailing much closer to home. The "Treasures of the British Isles", sets sail on the last day of August, and as its name suggests will be taking in ports right around these islands of ours. 

Principal ports of call will be Kirkwall in the Orkneys, Stornoway, in the Outer Hebrides, Belfast, Cobh (the port for Cork), and St Mary's in the Isles of Scilly. In some ways, the cruise mimics the voyage we undertook on Cunard's Queen Anne, just over a year ago, and it will be nice to revisit places like Stornoway and Cobh, that we visited on that voyage. But we'll be sailing on a smaller, and more personal ship, and a vessel that is more suited to berthing at some of the smaller ports around Britain and Ireland. 

Footnote: I received news today that our travel insurance will be compensating us financially, for being unable to call at Narvik,  the port we missed on the last leg of our recent Norwegian cruise. Whilst we were obviously disappointed at missing our stop at this important town, with its memories from World War II of resistance by Norwegian and British forces, against the German invaders, the money received will help erase those five days of being buffeted by some of the stormiest seas we have encountered over the past six nautical years afloat.

Mid afternoon in Birmingham, but where on earth is that pub?

You left me at the end of the last post, heading towards the first pub of a day, that had so far proven rather pointless. Chasing around for a pub that might or might not be opened, had wasted the best part of an hour, and after already having traipsed around a busy, and at times packed exhibition hall, I just wanted to take the weight off my feet and get stuck into a pint or two. 

Frustrated, is the word that best describes how I was feeling, but this was mitigated by the benign, warm weather and the general sense of bonhomie, that seemed to exude from the crowds walking around central Birmingham. It wasn't even a Friday, but the combination of sunshine, a sprinkling of stunning looking new buildings, plus the aforementioned populace at large, was sufficient to lift my spirits, following the earlier disappointment.

I'd already decided that the Wellington would be my next stop, and for those not in the know, this specialist cask ale pub situated in the heart of the city's business district, is something of a local legend in Birmingham. Opened in 2004, and occupying the ground floor and cellar of a solid-looking Victorian building, the Wellington has enjoyed continued success, expanding a decade later into the former offices on the two floors above. I visited the pub, three years after opening, when it was already establishing itself as one of the city's premier alehouses in terms of its beer offering alone. Coincidentally, that visit was on the back of a previously business trip to Birmingham where, once again, I was just passing through! 

The Wellington has undergone a considerable expansion since that 2007 visit, adding an upstairs bar, function room plus a roof terrace, but the ground floor bar appeared to have changed little, apart from a dramatic increase in the number of handpumps. The bar seemed surprisingly quiet, which left me guessing that most of the punters were in the upstairs bar and roof terrace, taking advantage of the glorious spring weather. Perhaps I should have joined them, but after the hustle and bustle of the Health & Safety Exhibition, and the time spent trudging the streets, looking for the Waterside Tap, I was just glad of a place where I could take the weight off my feet, enjoy the peace and quiet, alongside the comfort of a very welcoming pint of beer. 

Oxwich IPA, from the Gower Brewery, was my beer of choice, and I remember enjoying this particular offering on a visit to the Gower peninsular in late February 2020. That was just a few weeks before the start of the COVID pandemic, when Mrs PBT's and I were staying in the area, after travelling across to Wales, for the funeral, of a favourite aunt. The Gower itself had brought back happy memories, of childhood holidays, in a caravan, at Oxwich Bay, with my parents, and two sisters, and whilst it was an obviously much more solemn occasion had brought me back to the area, it was still a delight to be back. Eileen and I had stopped for lunch, at the atmospheric Worms Head Hotel, overlooking Rhossili Bay, with its miles of golden stands, pounded by enormous waves breaking over  everything in their path, a few hundred feet below us. It was the distinctive Gower Ales, pump clip, that brought those more recent memories back, along with the taste of this refreshingly hoppy, golden ale.

Despite being tempted to stay for another - there was nearly two dozen other beers to choose from, I decided to move on and head towards the Prince of Wales, a beautifully restored pub in the heart of the city's theatre district. Owned and operated by local legends, Black Country Ales, the POW seemed an excellent choice for the second pub on my mini-crawl around central Birmingham. It almost certainly have proven so, had I not walked past the imposing frontage of Albert's Schloss, a Bavarian-style restaurant and Bier Hall. Having read about a similarly-named establishment in central Manchester, I was intrigued, and couldn't resist calling in, despite this meaning a change in my plans. 

This cavernous establishment was ticking over quite nicely, as I stepped inside. Checking a couple of the photos on my phone, indicated the time was 4.30 pm, and my assumptions that it would soon start filling up, with the afterwork crowd, proved correct. The thing that had drawn initially drawn me in, was the availability of draught Pilsner Urquell, stored in and drawn from a shiny and well-polished, refrigerated copper tank. The brewery have a name for this type of storage/dispense, that I think is called Tankovna. 

I've come across this system in other European destinations, although mainly in Prague, but I do remember the brewery shipping over a whole tank of the stuff, and then presenting it at one of the European Beer Writers' Conferences I attended, back in 2016-17. The venue for that year's was Brussels, but then in a move that to me looked like bad planning on behalf of the organisers, there was a pub-crawl of the city, planned for the same evening. I'm fairly certain that a substantial proportion of that tank, remained undrunk, and ended up being poured down the drain, but such wasteful extravagances don't seem uncommon in the corporate world. I digress, but can confirm that the fresh, and un-pasteurised Pilsner Urquell was every bit as good as what I've previously enjoyed, in the Czech Republic. 

As predicted, Albert's Schloss soon started filling up, and not just with the usual, after-work office brigade. I'd already twigged that this area was close to the university, and other academically inclined institutions, so there were quite a few students present, enjoying the selection of mainly Bavarian beers on offer. The cavernous, open-plan interior was divided up with various tall tables, and equally tall stools, none of which are my favourite, but there was also a number of long wooden tables and benches that I thought were much more in keeping with what you find in Bavaria and Czechia. The food offerings looked good, but I wasn't particularly hungry.   

I had planned on continuing along to the Prince of Wales - the pub that had been my original destination, but I'm sorry to say I cried off. I've been feeling quite tired recently, a condition that is probably a sign of advancing years, so I decided to head back to New Street, and take the first available, London-bound train. I could enjoy a pint or two there, and seeing as I'd purchased (or rather the firm had purchased) an Open Return ticket, I wasn't tied to a particular train. 

I called in at Greggs, before my intended train, and grabbed a ham and cheese roll, along with the proverbial flat white, just to satisfy the inner man. Greggs though, have gone right down in my estimation, ever since they stopped serving pasties - and before anyone says it, a steak bake (slice), is a very poor substitute for a pasty (Cornish or otherwise). This regression is a nationwide decision, as confirmed by the manager of their Tonbridge outlet, and for me plus, I imagine quite a few other customers, an extremely poor one. Having seen off the competition (there are no other bakeries of this type in Tonbridge), a pasty, hot or cold is no longer available in the town, so thanks for nothing Greggs!! I'm almost wishing for a branch of Gail's to open locally, despite their higher prices, thereby breaking Greggs monopoly.

My train back to Euston was less than two-thirds full, so there was plenty of room to stretch out. The journey was uneventful, but before heading off and finding a pub, I responded to a text message from son Matthew, offering to pick me up from Tonbridge station. I was glad of this kind and, it must be said, rare offer, but it did entail my not going too far off the beaten track, when searching for a suitable pub. Whilst never my favourite (too noisy and too echoey as well), the Euston Tap, probably fitted the bill, but it wasn't until I cut through a passageway, at the northern end of the station, that I noticed the Doric Arch, tucked away, and accessible via an internal staircase, just behind the door.

The place looked familiar, and with a reasonable range of beers on offer, it looked ideal. I could have chosen Sambrook's or Stroud, but with a couple of Fuller's offerings also available, I opted for the ESB. Always a good choice, especially in the capital, and as I watched my pint being pulled, I suddenly remembered that I had been there before. "Didn't this pub used to called The Head of Steam?" I asked as the friendly barmaid finished pouring my pint. "Why yes", she replied and the conversation then turned to cask beer and the Campaign for Real Ale. 

The girl asked if I was a CAMRA member, so I truthfully told her that I wasn't anymore, having cancelled my membership after 40 years. I explained a few of the reasons that caused me to leave "Europe's Most Successful Consumer Organisation", and she understood where I was coming from. She still offered me a CAMRA discount on my pint, which was a nice gesture, but I won't try that approach again, as pubs, rather than entitled CAMRA members need all the help they can get.

So, not quite the lengthy stagger around Birmingham I originally had in mind, but still an enjoyable and useful day out - especially from the company's point of view.  

Making an exhibition of oneself, in Brum

I enjoyed a rare day out on Wednesday, and it was rarer still, because it was work-related. I've been employed in my current part time position for around four and a half years, and apart from a four day spell helping to man the company trade stand in Cologne, at what was the world's largest dental show, I've been largely office-based. 

That changed the other day, when I took time out from my busy schedule, for a visit to a Health & Safety Event, at Birmingham's NEC. I'd received previous invites, of course, but when you are only on site for three days out of five, you have to manage your time very carefully, in order to squeeze everything in. I travelled up to Brum by train, taking advantage of an off-peak return, on Avanti West Coast, which offered a fair degree of flexibility. I know the company was paying, but it all comes off the bottom line, so there's no point in wasting money, just to get somewhere at the crack of dawn! I might do that, if I was going off on holiday, but I wouldn't do so for work, and certainly not for a trade show. 

A few observations before launching in to the main topic, and the first one was I enjoyed a fast and comfortable return train journey to Birmingham, along part of a route that I first travelled on back in my student days, when I was studying at Salford University. Avanti may have had teething issues when they first took over the West Coast franchise from Virgin, but from what I experienced the company has  certainly now got its act together.  The other observation is one I am not sure that I want to share with you, chiefly because it is an unwelcome reminder of growing old. 

The South Eastern service I took from Tonbridge was crowded, and whilst I could have got a seat, I wanted to speak to a work colleague first, concerning the successful resolution of a problem that had cropped up the day before. By the time our conversation finished, the train had called at Sevenoaks and taken on a further load of passengers. As I walked down the corridor, looking for an empty seat, a young lady obviously took pity on me, and offered me her seat. Thanking her for her kindness and consideration, I politely declined, not sure to be flattered or ashamed. Surely I didn't look that much in need of a seat? Later on, the same thing happened on the  Northern Line tube, between London Bridge and Euston. Talk about chivalry in reverse!

These events aside, the train dropped me at the NEC just after 11.30. I then made my way towards the exhibition halls, pausing to reflect that whilst the NEC does exactly what it says on the tin, it is just that - a series of interconnected concrete and metal sheds. What it isn't is somewhere to host a beer festival, and not just any old beer festival, but the UK's premier, national, beer-related event. I understand that CAMRA had to do something last year, when Olympia became unavailable, but a little thinking outside the box would have gone a long way. If you've ever been to Munich's world famous Oktoberfest, then you'll appreciate the effort that goes into staging the event, with the so-called "tents", in reality, large wooden temporary structures, that reappear every year. 

These rustic-looking buildings, designed to look like hybrids of a tent and a beer hall, are capable of accommodating large number of revellers, and supplying them with large quantities of beer, as well as food, in a matter that is efficient, cost-effective as well as atmospheric. Contrast the structures at Oktoberfest with the soulless NEC, or even Olympia and its predecessor, Earls Court, and you quickly realise that in over 40 years of running beer festivals, CAMRA has failed to learn there is more to such events than a massive list of beers that are often indistinguishable from one another. 

Rant over, because whilst totally wrong for a beer festival, and a flagship national one at that, the NEC delivered fully when it came to "The Health & Safety Event". There, under one roof, were stands exhibiting safety equipment, protective clothing (lots of boots and hi-vis jackets), systems, and virtually everything connected with keeping workers safe, whilst at work, whether that is indoors or outside. My main areas of interest were, systems and equipment to protect lone workers (not that we do much where people have to work alone, or out of hours). I also looked at provisions for first aid in the workplace, plus software for generating and managing risk assessments and method statements. I shan't bore you with any more details, but from my one point of view, as well as that of my employer, it was well worth my attending an event that certainly delivered on all fronts.

Being a warm day, it was nice to escape outside into the Piazza that is bounded by several of the inter-linked halls. It was where I took my genuine Cornish Pasty, courtesy of the Cornish Bakery chain. Their stand also delivered a fine cup of coffee as well, so a decent, and moderately-sized lunch, unlike last week's gargantuan offering at the Elephant's Head. 

After that, it was a short walk back to the station, where I purchased a return ticket to Birmingham New Street. The journey into central Brum was short too, lasting all of 10 minutes, but as the train approached New Street, I was somewhat surprised at the lack of progress in linking and converting, some of the mega-structures, associated with HS2, into a viable railway.

So now for the other main event, namely a few of Birmingham's finest hostelries. I'd done a spot of research, but as things turned out, it wasn't quite sufficient. I was aiming for a pub overlooking one of Birmingham's many canals, at a location known as Gas Street Basin. My route from New Street took me past the now sadly closed, Post Office Vaults, a pub which, as its name suggests is partly underground. It was the first pub, and initial meeting point, on the Proper Day Out in Birmingham, a stagger around some of Brum's finest alehouses. Looking back the event took place three years ago, a fact that both surprised and shocked me, but now, according to the notice on the door, the POV is no more, due to insolvency.

Onwards and upwards, I skirted the front of the imposing, Victorian Town Hall, now almost free of the scaffolding and netting that spoiled its appearance, back in April 2023. There was also a significant improvement in the weather, with sunny skies and warm temps, contrasting with the wind and rain of three years ago. 

What I hadn't banked on was the maze of roadworks and ensuing street closures, which made my way to the Waterside Tap something of nightmare. I'm not a fan of using my phone, for navigation purposes, preferring instead a good, old fashioned, paper map, but after a number of false starts, I felt I was getting somewhere, only to see, also online, that the pub wouldn't be open until 5pm! Checking at home, earlier today, that information appeared not to be true, which left  me wondering did I miss out on this attractive, canal-side alehouse, owned and run by Joule's Brewery.

Now I know that Stafford Paul isn't a massive fan of Joule's pubs - something to do with the amount of repro advertising, and artefacts adorning the walls, and other flat surfaces of the company's, but I was really looking forward to this one, and a pint or two of Joule's beers into the bargain. As for actually trying to find the pub, I decided to call it quits, especially as the website advising the late opening of this pub, was CAMRA's own. Reluctantly I retraced my steps, and headed back in the direction of the town hall, where I knew I'd find at least one, and probably more of the pubs on my provisional list. We're going to have to leave these pubs until next time, as I've waffled on, for rather longer than I originally intended, so, until then, then!

Two rural, Harvey's pubs, by train and bus, plus three seldom seen, Harvey's cask ales

It's been quite a while since I last set off on a beer-related, bus trip, the sort of outing that in the past, I've described as a "Pub Friday". With this is mind I was thinking where to go, especially as the weather this particular Friday was set to be unbroken sunshine. But where to go, and looking for inspiration I turned to a list of potential destinations that I'd drawn up, some time last year. I hit upon the last pub on that list, which was the Elephant's Head, in the tiny hamlet (if you can even call it that), of Hook Green, situated on the boundary between Kent and East Sussex.

The reason I chose that particular establishment was, it had been mentioned on the local WhatsApp Beer Chat Group, that I'm a member of. From memory, I knew that the Autocar 256 bus service, ran through Hook Green, as part of its route between Tunbridge Wells and Wadhurst, and I also knew there was a stop, more or less opposite the pub. 

So, with times pencilled in, I was then struck by the thought that if I took the train from Tunbridge Wells, to Frant, I could leave the rails close to the station, and switch to the road, for the final few miles of the journey. That particular plan did involve a 40 minute wait at nearby Bells Yew Green, just up the road from Frant station, but as luck would have it, services on that line were running late, which cut the waiting time at BYG, down to a much less arduous 15 minutes. 

The return journey worked out even better, as after taking the 13:45 bus from Hook Green, I could call in at the Brecknock Arms, prior to catching a train from Frant, straight through to my home in Tonbridge. These connections worked out well, even though the 256 bus was running 10-15 minutes late, in both directions, but that's buses for you! I'd used the service, several years ago, again for a visit to the Elephant's Head, and the day seemed very similar, even though the timing of this particular visit was a little later in the year.

Upon reaching the pub, I sat outside in the garden, enjoying the welcome sunshine, whilst waiting for the place to open, which it did, just before the stroke of midday. I held back for a couple of minutes, to allow the small group of drinkers who'd arrived by car, to get their beer orders in first. Call me sceptical, but I'm always slightly wary of that first pint out of the beer lines. As it happened, it wasn't a problem, although I'm fairly certain that those initial punters weren't drinking Armada, which was my first drink of choice. There was quite a line up from the Harvey's stable, on the bar with Old Ale, Porter, and Pell's Pale completing the line-up, but interestingly, no Sussex Best - unless that was available from the bank of pumps, in the other bar.

The Armada was in fine form, but before heading off to find a table, the landlady uttered the immortal words, "Will you be dining with us, today?" There was a reason for her question, as the pub was hosting a wake, for some, dearly departed soul, and whilst the event would be taking place in the conservatory, behind the pub, the kitchen was likely to be busy. Full marks, therefore, for her question. I opted for what I thought would be a relatively light lunch, but when my sausage and fried egg sandwich arrived, it turned out to a feast worthy of the most voracious of trenchermen. 

The photo saves a lengthy explanation, but I struggled to finish this gargantuan sandwich. (Note to kitchen, at Elephant's Head, one fried egg would have been ample, but two was just too much. The salad garnish, smothering half of the plate, was also excessive, whilst the doorstep slices of bread were much too dense, for my liking). The landlady mentioned that the pub baked its own bread, so I suspect my slices were taken from a loaf that was only partially baked, but full marks for trying, and apologies for coming across as a grumpy, old git.  

It wasn't long before the pub started filling up, and not all the arrivals were attending the wake. There seemed a good mix of customers, and whilst most seemed of retirement age, there were several who were obviously younger. Apart from me though, all had arrived by car. There are very few chimney pots in the vicinity, and only those who are tired of living would be foolhardy enough, to walk along the B2169 running between Bells Yew Green and Lamberhurst, where the notorious "Bayham Straight" acts as a magnet for every wannabe boy racer, in the area.

After my ginormous sandwich, another pint was called for, and this time the seasonal Porter was my drink of choice. As with the Armada, this full bodied, dark beer was also in good condition. There was just time for me to finish it, settle my tab, and then head along to the nearby bus stop. I arrived a good 10 minutes early, as I didn't want to be stranded at Hook Green, or even have to contemplate walking along the aforementioned Bayham Straight. Me being early, meant of course that the bus was late, and almost 15 minutes behind schedule, but the fact that it arrived was the main thing, and also there were no time constraints as far as the next pub was concerned. The pub in question was the well-known Brecknock Arms, situated just off the crossroads in Bells Yew Green, and just 5 minutes walk away, from Frant station. 

I've been using the Brecknock, on and off for the past forty plus years. It's convenient and easy to get to, being just three stops away, by train, from Tonbridge. It's a neat, and quite compact pub that has belonged to Harvey's, ever since I've known the place. There's been a few, relatively minor, internal changes, one of which was removing the partition wall between Public and Saloon bars, but this was a little haphazard, as all it did was to enlarge the former, whilst leaving the latter relatively unscathed. There's been a succession of different landlords as well, some obviously better than others. The jury is out on the current incumbent, primarily because I haven't made many visits to the Brecknock recently, and I have to say the pub seemed rather quiet when I called in, just before 2pm last Friday.

As with the Elephant's Head there was an interesting selection of Harvey's beers on the bar, including their relatively scarce, Dark Mild. The landlady pulled me off a pint, it tasted fine, so wishing to take advantage of the fine weather, I made my way through what used to be the Saloon bar, and out into the spacious and well-laid out garden at the rear of the pub. On my way through, I passed what I took to be the licensees family, all female, and with talk of babies it was a gentle reminder of a new arrival, on Eileen's side of the family. I was the sole occupant of the garden, but when I popped back inside, to return my empty glass, and use the facilities there was another customer (a mature male), in the bar chatting to the landlady about one of the live acts, due to appear soon, at the Brecknock.

There was a 20 minute wait for the London bound train, although with the sun shining it was pleasant sitting on a bench, waiting for the service to arrive. I'd mis-timed my journey to coincide with school chucking out, but the students (that's what you're supposed to call them these days), were well behaved, albeit a little noisy. Crossing the road outside Tonbridge station, and dodging the tidal wave of school kids, heading in the opposite direction, whilst thinking that the 219 bus, up to Bailey Towers must be due any moment, actually worked out well. The bus was running late (no surprises there), but again this worked in my favour, and I was dropped off at the top of my road. So, a successful "Pub Friday" outing which allowed me to spend time in two classic, but very different, Harvey's tied houses.