Pub Passports - a vanished phenomenon, or one that's worthy of a comeback?

Following on from my previous article about biting the bullet and retiring completely from my current part-time job, I received a number of suggestions about how to enjoy the additional time I’ll be granted. First and foremost, amongst these was a slightly facetious suggestion from an anonymous correspondent that I could try drinking in all the Shepherd Neame pubs during my first twelve months of retirement.

My response was that I’ve been there, and done that, even though it was over 40 years ago. It was a labour of love slog back then and having experienced the mad dash of getting round all 286 Shepherd Neame houses, it is not an experience I’d care to repeat. However, that’s not to say that it’s a topic I don’t wish to write about, as I certainly do, but the trouble is where to start?

Pub passport schemes is an area that isn’t particularly well documented, and with my memory of events that occurred four decades or so ago, I wasn’t sure where to start, which is why I turned to AI, and specifically, Copilot, to come up with the facts. This AI platform certainly delivered, because in less time than it took me to type in the question, the software came up with the following detailed response, that I’ve reproduced, in full, below. The answers may surprise some of you, they did me – to a certain extent, but most importantly the narrative not only rang true, but also brought back memories of frantic days spent dashing all over Kent, as well as the borders of some of the adjacent counties.

Here’s a full, structured article on the pub “passport” schemes of the 1980's and 1990's - the quirky, charming, and very British marketing tradition that independent brewers used to get people exploring their tied estates.

Pub Passport Schemes: when independent brewers turned pub‑going into an adventure

During the 1980s and 1990s, long before craft beer culture exploded and social media made every pint a photo opportunity, independent brewers across Britain were quietly running one of the most inventive marketing ideas the industry has ever seen: pub passport schemes. These were playful, collectible, surprisingly competitive programmes designed to encourage drinkers to explore a brewery’s tied houses — and they became a beloved part of pub culture for thousands of enthusiasts.

What was a Pub Passport?

A pub passport was exactly what it sounded like: a small booklet, usually pocket‑sized, issued by a brewery. Each page represented one of the brewery’s pubs. When a drinker visited a pub and bought a pint (or sometimes just asked nicely), the landlord would stamp the passport. Collect enough stamps and you’d earn rewards — anything from enamel badges and T‑shirts to brewery tours, limited‑edition beers, or even entry into prize draws.

It was "gamification" before the word existed. And it worked.

Why independent brewers loved them

The 1980's and 1990's were turbulent decades for British brewing. Consolidation was rampant. Big national brewers were swallowing smaller ones, and tied estates were constantly changing hands. Independent regional brewers — names like Shepherd Neame, Hall & Woodhouse, Adnam’s, Everards, Arkell’s, Robinsons, and Harvey’s -needed ways to keep drinkers loyal and to differentiate themselves from the corporate giants.

Pub passports offered:

·         A reason to visit multiple pubs, not just the local.

·         A sense of community and belonging, especially among beer enthusiasts.

·         A way to showcase the variety of their estates, from rural coaching inns to quirky town-centre boozers.

·         A low-cost promotional tool, relying on fun rather than heavy advertising.

For many breweries, passports became a yearly tradition — updated designs, new prizes, and sometimes special “passport ales” brewed to accompany the scheme.

The culture around collecting

Pub passport collecting developed its own subculture. Some drinkers treated it casually, filling pages over months. Others approached it with near‑military precision, planning weekend expeditions to tick off remote pubs.

Stories from the era include:

·         Drinkers hiring minibuses to complete entire counties in a day.

·         Passport clubs forming, complete with newsletters and meet-ups.

·         Friendly rivalries between collectors comparing stamp counts.

·         Landlords designing their own quirky stamps — everything from hop flowers to cartoon sheep.

For many, the joy wasn’t the prize at the end but the journey: discovering hidden pubs, meeting new people, and experiencing the full character of a brewery’s estate.

A tool for pub tourism before it had a name

Pub passports also unintentionally supported local tourism. They encouraged people to explore villages, market towns, and rural areas they might never otherwise visit. Some local councils even partnered with brewers, recognising the schemes as a way to bring visitors into their communities.

In coastal areas, passports often included scenic walking routes linking pubs. In rural counties, they became unofficial guides to countryside inns. In cities, they offered curated pub crawls long before apps did the same.

Why the schemes faded

By the late 1990's and early 2000's, pub passport schemes began to decline. Several factors contributed:

·         The Beer Orders of 1989, which reshaped the tied-house system and disrupted traditional brewery estates.

·         Increasing consolidation, reducing the number of independent brewers with large, tied estates.

·         The rise of guest beers, making brewery loyalty less central to drinkers.

·         Digital marketing, which replaced physical booklets with online campaigns.

·         Changing drinking habits, with fewer people undertaking large pub crawls.

Some breweries kept the tradition alive into the 2000's, but the golden age of pub passports was undeniably the 80's and 90's. 

Legacy and modern echoes

Though the original schemes have mostly disappeared, their spirit lives on:

·         CAMRA ale trails, often run at beer festivals or across local branches.

·         City beer passports, now common in places like London, Leeds, and Manchester.

·         Craft brewery taproom trails, encouraging visits to multiple venues.

·         Digital stamp apps, which mimic the old booklet experience.

But for many who remember them, nothing quite matches the charm of a physical passport, a fresh stamp, and the satisfaction of completing a brewery’s entire estate!

Why they matter today

Pub passport schemes represent a moment in British beer history when independent brewers used creativity rather than scale to compete. They celebrated exploration, community, and the simple joy of discovering a new pub.

In an era where pubs face unprecedented challenges, the nostalgia surrounding these schemes is more than sentiment — it’s a reminder of how imaginative, local, and human the pub trade can be.

So, a well-thought-out response, and one that is more far-reaching and enlightening than anything I could have come up with. I’d still be interested to know if readers (of a certain age), have experiences of this phenomenon that they’d like to share, or whether they feel that pub passport schemes could still play a role in keeping pubs and pub culture in the minds of the general public.

As one chapter draws to a close, a new one will soon be beginning

It’s been a very strange summer so far, and certainly nothing like the summer I was expecting. To start with 2026 is set to break all records for high temperatures, with five heatwaves so far, and a distinct lack of rain. The heat hasn’t been good for working outside, although the combination of high temperatures and lack of rainfall has meant very little, if anything, is growing in the garden. I’d more or less given up on it anyway, as the ritual of nightly watering was becoming a losing battle.

We’ve had some welcome rain over the past two days, but it’s nowhere near enough to bring the garden back to life, although with a holiday looming in two weeks’ time, the garden will have to look after itself, anyway. Climate considerations aside there’s major life decision looming up on the horizon and it’s one that I’m starting to embrace, and indeed welcome with open arms. I’m almost halfway through my 72^nd year and I’m really starting to feel it, so there’s one area of my life that I really need to let go of. I’m talking here about retirement and abandoning  my career as a scientist-safety professional. 

 I’d been thinking about letting go of my ties with the world of work, and had already taken the first tentative steps of exploring the financial options open to me, once that all important monthly pay cheque stops coming in. Something happened though, along the way to prompt me to speed up the process of letting go, and it wasn’t so much the feeling tired and lacking in energy, but rather a chain of random events that appeared out of the blue, which have been sufficient to persuade me that it’s time to go.

I’m not going to go into too much detail, primarily because it wouldn’t mean much to those unaffected anyway, so without giving too much away there have been a few changes in the structure and set-up of the company I have worked for over the past 20 years that have suddenly changed it from being a nice place to work, to one where the opposite is now the case. People talk about dynamics in society, and on a much more local level, dynamics within the workplace, and a few recent changes that have taken place have completely altered those carefully constructed building blocks, that hold the whole thing together. I’m talking here about the glue, that connects the various strands that make an organisation function in a certain way, and that ultimately make it successful and also a decent place to be employed at.

The changes I’m referring to seem at odds to what I’ve been talking about above, but basically the company is losing two key people who I both respect and admire to the extent that I can call them friends. The crazy thing is that one of them, like me, was navigating the same pension maze necessary to provide that vital income, to see him into retirement, and through the other side. The other person is younger, but no longer wishes to work for a company, where the carefully constructed dynamic, that held a key part of the organisation together, has been shattered.

 

I'm not particularly looking forward to my return from my holiday, especially as those two key colleagues won't be there, and this is why I’m speeding up the wheels that I’d already set in motion for a tidy and ordered retirement. But onwards and upwards, and with an eye to the future, I've accrued a reasonable “pension pot” over the years, and will be looking at Pension Drawdown, to supplement my State Pension. 

 This is because despite my early introduction to the world of work, lucrative Final Salary Pension Schemes were being withdrawn, even then, as companies and other organisations just couldn't afford to maintain them. So, that’s where I am, as we head into the final week of August, and is why you find me in a contemplative and reflective mood. On the plus side, it’s raining quite heavily, at the moment, which is further good news following on from some early showers, and long may it continue – at least for a while. As for my impending retirement, I shall keep you informed as to how things are progressing.

 

Five of Frome's best pubs - or the ones I managed to visit, last weekend!

Before we start, I promise there is no AI involved in the drafting of this post, just good old-fashioned, hard slog on the keyboard. That is apart from me using the CAMRA pub website, for useful and relevant facts, figures and other relevant information, intended to convey a visual images) of the pubs concerned. I therefore trust that readers will find, what is in effect, a guide to five of Frome’s best, and most interesting pubs. There were others, of course, but my late arrival meant there was a handful of public houses I didn’t get to experience.

Our first port of call, and the source of a much-needed pint was the Three Swans. A 17^thcentury, grade II listed, two bar pub in the centre of Frome, that is both quirky and traditional at the same time.  Extensively refurbished between April 2013 and January 2014, the pub has an eccentric, but very comfortable and inviting feel to it. The back door leads out to a secluded courtyard, and there is also a spacious function room upstairs, that is ideal for meetings or small celebrations.

The two regular beers are supplemented by a single guest, which can be sourced from all over the country. The Three Swans is one of the oldest pubs in Frome, small in size but big in character which makes it customers feel right at home. The majority of Pub Forum members on this particular visit, were just making ready to go when Martin and I arrived, but one person happy to stay for another pint was Stafford Paul. 

 It was especially good to see him again, after what must be a period of over 18 months. The Butcombe Original, one of two cask beers on sale that day, was in fine form, and just the thing after a long, and frustrating train journey!

The next port of call was Just Ales, Frome's first micro pub, but to reach it we first had to navigate the historic and picturesque narrow lane, known as Cheap Street. Characterised by a fast flowing, tiny stream, which flows along a narrow stone gulley known as a “leat”, Cheap Street has certainly retained its historic medieval character. With plenty of independent shops and cafés to choose from, this area of Frome was bustling with people, drawn by the aforementioned shops and businesses. 

Unfortunately, the photos I took, don’t really do Cheap Street justice, although with luck they do convey part of the feel of the place. Prior to reaching Just Ales, we passed the relatively small, but attractive George Hotel, a Wadworth establishment, which was the pub I was originally aiming for, had my train not been delayed, earlier, by those pesky sheep.

Opening in March 2018, in what was previously a small café, Just Ales seemed a good place to linger, and enjoy one of the two cask ales on sale at the pub. It also afforded an opportunity of catching up with rest of the party; several of whom I knew from previous “Proper Days Out”. Jon & Tracey, Mick, and Will were amongst this group, but where was Stafford Paul? I do recall him saying earlier that it wasn’t his intention to complete the entire Frome crawl, and in mitigation he had started off on the previous evening, with a stop-over in nearby Bath. He and Martin had gone for the obligatory jug of gravity-served, Bass, at the town’s legendary Star Inn, so whether this put him off his stride remains unknown, but it would have been nice to have spent a bit more time with him.

Instead, I enjoyed a catch-up with Jon, Tracey and Martin, as well as a brief chat with the pub’s landlord. Simply furnished, Just Ales is in the heart of Frome's vibrant St Catherine's district, and with seating for 30+ people, plus Frome Brewing Co. Devil’s Backbone Porter on tap, plus a fruity pale ale (Summer Breeze) from Milestone Brewing, this bright, breezy and vibrant micro-pub was a good place to while away a summer’s afternoon – at least I would have been, if we hadn’t needed to move on!

What followed was another walk up a
steep hill – this time St Catherine’s Hill, a thoroughfare once again furnished with more quirky and eclectic shops. We were heading for the Lamb & Fountain, a stone-built pub close to the top of the hill. The Lamb is a small and friendly unspoilt gem of a pub with fantastic views over the town, from its spacious lounge room, at the rear of the building. 

It is a grad e II listed building, on the CAMRA register as "An historic pub interior of regional importance", as evidenced by the passage running to the rear of the building, and the old-fashioned off-sales hatch with a sliding glazed window and a display case above. The door at the front leads to a very small public bar with a Victorian counter, which has a c.1960 Formica top. The bar back shelves are mainly original, and there is an interwar tiled and wood surround fireplace with a gas fire in front. This information comes from CAMRA, rather than AI!

Known locally as "Mothers” and run for over 50 years by Freda Searl, this late 17^th or early 18^th century pub is now run by Freda’s daughter, Sue. Freda made no major changes to the pub during her time at the helm but sadly passed away in November 2021. Sue has followed her mother’s wishes and left the pub just as it was. Our party took over the lounge, leaving the mainly cider-drinking locals, to the rather more basic front room of the pub. As with many Frome pubs, cider is the main tipple of the locals, with London Pride often, but not always, available on hand-pump.

Just a short hop away is the Griffin, an attractive, stone-built pub that was formerly the brewery tap for Milk Street (now Frome) Brewery, which has moved to the outskirts of the town. Up to three Frome ales and guests, as well as a range of craft beers and ciders. The main bar retains some original features such as etched windows and wooden floor. We made ourselves at home in the large room at the front of the pub, as you can see in the attached photo. My tipple of choice was Funky Monkey, a 4.0% Session Bitter, from Frome Brewery.

The Griffin is listed in this year’s CAMRA Good Beer Guide, as is what, for me was the final pub of the day. The Royal Oak was quite a hike from the Griffin on a road that was heading in the wrong direction. By that I mean the pub was on the fringes of Frome, and in the opposite direction to the station. So, despite the hike, and the far longer trudge back to the centre of Frome, I followed the others into the pub and purchased a glass of St Austell Proper Job.

Like the previous pub, the Royal Oak had several drinking areas as well as an outside patio garden, but we gravitated to the large room at the front of the pub. Given the distance back into town, I knocked my beer back quite quickly. I was thirsty, of course, but being unsure of the route back to the station, I decided I’d better get going. First I had ascertain the best way into town. This was to follow the main A362 Broadway Road all the way down into Frome, passing Christchurch and Portway on the way, a distance of just over 1.5 miles.

I called in at a petrol station on the way, to ask if they had a toilet – I was "breaking my neck for a slash", as they say, but whilst there were no toilets there, Rye Bakery & Pizzeria in station approach did, thankfully have “facilities”! They also had some much-needed solid sustenance – I hadn’t eaten since mid-morning at Castle Cary, so I bought a Cornish pasty to eat on the train. Shortly before my train pulled in at the station, several other members of the group turned up. They would be heading off in the opposite direction towards Westbury and Bristol, and I think they were as surprise to see me as I was to see them!

We said our goodbyes, as their train departed ahead of mine, although only by a few minutes. Not long after, the Castle Cary train pulled into the station, and I headed off on the start of my journey back to Kent. There was no livestock on the line this time – although not locally, but according to the indicator board, the train was running 17 minutes behind schedule due to, you’ve guessed it - animals on the line!  These West Country farm boys and girls, really need to be more careful with their critters!

A day trip to the Somerset town of Frome

I mentioned in the previous post, that I was off to Frome, the following weekend. It was for a one-day visit to this pleasant, Somerset town, on a visit that would be the first for me. The trip had been a long time in the planning, involving several changes of dates between inception, and the event actually changing place, but the one constant was we would be visiting a number of pubs in the town that had been carefully chosen by Jon Benger – a beer and pub enthusiast who I first met on a visit to Bath, a couple of years ago.

Jon lives in Frome, with his wife Tracey, who was also on the Bath trip, and from memory, I remember  the couple telling me that they met, whilst at university (“uni” as the kids say), in Bath. Sometime in between the then and now, the pair moved the short distance across to Frome, where property prices were more reasonable, and the town wasn’t over-run with tourists. Before launching into the narrative, it’s worth noting that I used AI creativity tool, Copilot, to write some of this post, but the parts I am referring to are mainly a few descriptive sections about Frome, and what it has to offer the casual visitor. See if you can spot these “AI - written” paragraphs, starting off with the introduction.

There's something special about discovering a place that feels both vibrant and timeless, and that's exactly how I felt during my recent trip to Frome in Somerset. Nestled among rolling countryside and historic architecture, Frome is a town that effortlessly blends creativity, heritage, and community spirit. From the moment I arrived, I could see why it has become one of the South West's most talked-about destinations.

I travelled to Frome, by train from my home in Tonbridge, beginning my journey with a train to London Bridge. This was followed by a convenient cross-London transfer using the Thameslink and Elizabeth line services to Paddington Station. The journey showcased the excellent rail connections which now exist, between Kent, London and the Southwest, with the Elizabeth line making the transfer across London easy and efficient.

The rail journey from Paddington was a pleasant one, albeit rather boisterous, as I shared the carriage with a lively group of ladies on their way to enjoy a day out in the West Country. Several bottles of chilled prosecco were cracked open, almost from the moment that the train pulled out of Paddington, on its journey to the south-west. The ladies were bound for Totnes, whereas I would be leaving the train at Castle Cary to catch a connecting service across to Frome. 

The train was making good progress, as we headed away from the capital, but unfortunately, we hit a delay sometime after leaving Westbury. I later discovered this was due to a flock of sheep on the line, but the slow, stop-start progress of the train meant we were 30 minutes’ late in arriving at Castle Cary.

The delay meant me missing my connection and facing a wait of an hour and a half for the next train to Frome. Fortunately, there was a pleasant café and “creamery” on the opposite platform, where I enjoyed a sausage bap and a pot of tea. It was a mile or so’s walk into the small town of Castle Cary and with hindsight I perhaps should have made the effort to visit the settlement. According to Google, there are several pubs in the town, that appear worthy of a visit, but after my late breakfast it would have been a rather rushed affair, and as I’ve grown older, I try to avoid rushing, wherever possible. Instead, I enjoyed a pleasant and relaxing interlude at Castle Cary station, which is an attractive looking station, that is well maintained and decorated in a style that evokes the 1920s and 1930s.

Whilst waiting for the connection, I contacted Jon Benger who, as the local resident in charge of our day out, would be able to tell me where to meet up in Frome. Jon suggested phoning for an update, once I’d arrived in the town, which I did, and was kindly met at the station by none other, than Retired Martin – memories here of Alton and Farnham! With the pace of two people gagging for a pint after a two-hour delay, – that was me rather than Martin, we walked towards the centre of Frome. There I found myself being struck by both the character and slight quirkiness of the town, where the narrow-cobbled streets, independent shops, and the well-preserved buildings, constructed mainly from locally quarried stone, create an atmosphere that feels worlds away from the hustle and bustle of larger towns and cities.

One particular highlight is Catherine Hill, a steep and picturesque street lined with quirky boutiques, galleries, and cafés. It's the kind of  thoroughfare where every doorway seems to reveal another hidden gem.  As well as shops, the town is packed with independent cafés, bars and eateries, each with its own unique charm. What stood out most was the passion local business owners have for their craft. Whether it was a barista explaining their coffee beans or a shop owner sharing the story behind a handmade product, there was a genuine sense of pride throughout the town.

Frome has built a reputation as a creative hub, and it's easy to see why. Art galleries, workshops, and independent retailers are woven into the fabric of the town. Every corner seems to celebrate creativity in one form or another. The town has a welcoming atmosphere that encourages visitors to slow down, explore, and appreciate the details, so much so that I was able to explore its blend of attractive independent shops, historic streets and distinctive character, which make Frome one of Somerset's most interesting and popular towns to visit.

Beyond its creative appeal, Frome is rich in history, and as we wandered through the older parts of town, I couldn't help but admire the centuries-old buildings and fascinating architecture. The town's industrial past is still visible today, providing a glimpse into its evolution over time. The combination of history and modern culture gives Frome a unique identity that's difficult to find elsewhere.

My visit to Frome was a reminder that some of the best travel experiences come from exploring places that aren't necessarily on every tourist itinerary. Its blend of independent spirit, historic charm, and thriving creative community makes it a destination well worth visiting. Whether you're looking for a relaxing day out, a weekend getaway, or simply somewhere new to explore, Frome offers an experience that's both inspiring and memorable.

OK, that’s the tourist plug over, and the end of this post as well, but in the next one you’ll be able to learn more about the five, historic, interesting, and quite quirky pubs that we visited, in what was quite a breathless and whistle-stop tour of Frome.

 

A few bits and pieces, followed by a pint in the Star

It's been quite a hectic week at least by my standards, whatever they're measured against these days, where I accomplished quite a lot both on the home front, and the work front. It seems that the never-ending heat wave is exactly what it says, “Never ending,” and last Sunday weather wise was pretty much the same as it is today another, Sunday, and one where the sun is beating down making the heat it's just too intense to do much in the way of outdoor activities. Furthermore, with a lawn that consists of nothing but scorched grass, there is precious little to do on that score, anyway.

The previous Sunday, I had to drive over to Tunbridge Wells's North Farm estate, which although originally an industrial area, is now much more of a trading estate. I picked up a pair of new shorts from George at Asda, before driving along to Screwfix, a store Where I am spending more time that I would wish. I purchased the drill bit I needed for the fencing repairs I’ve been working on, but after finishing my shopping, I decided that a pint was in order – it was a sweltering day, after all!

I took the long way home and made a detour out into the parched looking, Kent countryside, heading out along the invariably busy A21, before turning off towards Matfield. This attractive village has one of the largest village greens I know of in Kent, as well as being one of the most attractive as well. 

I was aiming for the Star, at the far end of the green, but on the way, I passed the sadly closed Wheelwrights Arms, an establishment that hasn’t traded for many a long year. Once a particularly good free house, the Wheelwrights seemed to go downhill once Shepherd Neame took control of the place. I’d have to look back to check when exactly it closed, but this former excellent free house is sadly no more, and even the exterior has been altered out of all recognition. The Wheelwrights is now a private residence, having pulled its last pints, a decade or more ago.

Fortunately, the same fate hasn’t befallen the Star, a large, and attractive red-brick property at the other end of the green. I made an abortive visit earlier in the year, when I was unable to find space in the car park, but there were no such problems this time around. With several empty spaces, I was beginning to wonder whether the heat had kept people indoors. If it had their loss was my gain, and after strolling into the pub I was greeted by a handful of people occupying sections of all three rooms, including the designated dining area. I ordered myself a pint of Harvey’s Best, (Tonbridge plus an offering from Gun Brewery, were the other beers available), before making my way outside, to the small and secluded courtyard garden, at the side of the pub. Despite its proximity to the main road, this was a quiet and peaceful area, with sunshine and shade available in equal quantities. In other words, it was the perfect space to sit in and enjoy a pint.

In spite of the high temperatures, the Sussex Best was in good form, and the packet of Piper’s crisps, the perfect accompaniment.  I sat there for around 20 minutes, enjoying my pint, whilst indulging in a spot of people watching, before picking up my empty glass and returning it, like a good boy, to the girl behind the bar. I returned to the car, and drove back to sunny Tunny (Tonbridge), after turning off the B2160 at the bottom of Gedges’ Hill, opposite Mascall’s school. 

I almost forgot to mention that on my way out of Matfield, I drove past the Poet, which is the village’s other pub. Older readers will probably remember the pub by its original name of Standings Cross. I didn't go in this time, although I've visited the pub on a number of previous occasions. It’s pleasant enough, despite bordering on being more of a gastro establishment, than an actual pub. At least it remains open, and probably doing OK, judging by the number of cars parked outside, as I drove by.  

There were more adventures to come over the following weekend, when I took the train down to the West Country, in order to visit the town of Frome. You can read all about that trip, next time, along with details of the “interesting” journey I had, in order to get there.