Annafest - a nostalgic look back

Apologies if this post looks somewhat familiar, as this isn't the first time that it's seen the light of day. I'm re-publishing the article, with the odd tweak here and there, because the last week in July is when one of the world's best beer festivals takes place. I'm talking about Annafest; a folk festival, that attracts around 500,000 visitors each year over the course of the 10-day event. Despite its popularity, Annafest is  relatively little-known outside the region of northern Bavaria, known as Franconia, and yet, providing the weather holds, there are few better places  know of in which to enjoy some excellent  locally-brewed beer, in a wooded hillside setting over looking the town of Forchheim.

In the summer of 2013, son Matthew and I enjoyed a week’s holiday in this picturesque town of some 20,000 souls. Forchheim is situated in the valley of the River Regnitz, roughly halfway between Bamberg and Nuremberg, and apart from Annafest, is a town that is well worth visiting at other times of the year, as we did five years later. (Forchheim has four breweries, plus some characterful and atmospheric pubs).

Annafest is quite unlike any beer festival I have ever been to before; but then German beer festivals aren’t the same as those in the UK. For a start they’ve been running a lot longer than home-grown events; sometimes by as much as a couple of hundred years. In addition, whilst British beers festivals are about sampling as many different beers as possible, German beer festivals are about having a good time, with some serious drinking forming an essential component. This is how I would best describe Annafest.

The event takes place at the Kellerwald, a wooded hillside on the edge of Forchheim, where there are a series of natural rock cellars cut into the hillside. These cellars were originally constructed for the storage and maturation of bottom-fermenting beer, in the days before refrigeration was developed. Today there are two dozen such “Kellers”, the majority of which are just open for Annafest, although a handful remain open all year.  During the summer evenings the Kellerwald is the perfect location for a cool beer in the shady woods.  The event is held over a 10-day period around the 26^th July, which is the feast of St Anna (Anne), the mother of the Virgin Mary.

Although pilgrims had been journeying to a nearby chapel consecrated to St. Anna since the early 16^th Century, Annafest in its present form began in 1840, when the Forchheim shooting club moved its main shooting ground from the “shooting meadow” on the river Regnitz to the Kellerwald.  As well as plenty of beer drinking there are other attractions such as fairground rides, various stalls, plus six stages which feature a wide range of different musical acts. The local Forchheim breweries Hebendanz, Greif, Eichhorn and Neder all brew a strong Bock beer especially for this festival, the so-called Annafestbier, and a number of other local breweries also supply brews of their own as well.

With seating for around 30,000 people, the Kellerwald provides sufficient accommodation for the crowds.  A regular shuttle bus service is provided from the town and surrounding areas to the Kellerwald and back again, so getting to the festival is not a problem. For those of a more energetic disposition, it is not that far to walk up from the town and many people choose to do this, working up a king-sized thirst on the way!

We attended Annafest on three separate days (Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday), with breaks in between visits to allow ourselves a bit of a rest. I don’t mean we overindulged, but with one litre (Maß) mugs the only measures the beer was served in, (unless one wanted a wheat beer that is), it can be quite easy to over-indulge, albeit unintentionally! What’s more, the beer on sale was the Annafestbier, which weighs in with an abv of around 5.7%, or more! The day’s in-between did afford a break though from the festivities and allowed us to explore other parts of the area. This was as much a part of our holiday as visiting Annafest itself.

On each occasion we visited three different Kellers, which meant three litres or nearly six pints each over the course of the day. We paced ourselves though and took our time, savouring the tasty, potent beer, served with one notable exception, in tall, ceramic stoneware mugs. For the record we visited the following Kellers: Tuesday - Stäffalakeller (Wolfshöher), Schlöslakeller (Hebendanz) and Loẅenbräukeller (Loẅenbräu – Buttenheim); Thursday – Greiffkeller (Greiff), Eichhornkeller (Eichhorn) and Weiß-Tauben-Keller (Rittmayer-Hallendorf); Sunday – Hoffmannskeller (Monschof-Kulmbach), Nederkeller (Neder) and Nürnberger-Tor-Keller (Wolfshöher).

Of the beers drunk, Hebendanz and Neder (both Forchheim brewers), stood out above the rest, although the beers from the town’s other two breweries, Eichhorn and Greiff were also very palatable. The beer from Kulmbach giant, Monschof, was different from the other local beers in that instead of the darker, Kellerbier common in Franconia; it was a golden, Helles-style beer, served in a glass Maß, rather than the stoneware ones used by virtually all the other breweries.

The beer I was least impressed with was Wolfshöher, a regional concern with expansionist designs, based in the village of the same name, near Neunkirchen. The company has an unduly large presence at the Kellarwald, due to its takeover, and closure of Forchheim’s fifth and largest brewery, Bräuhaus Forchheim. The brewery buildings, standing empty and forlorn, were only a stone’s throw from our rented holiday apartment, but at the time of our visit, there were signs that work was taking place on the site, to convert part of the brewery into residential accommodation.

There was plenty of food available to help soak up all of this beer. Most, if not all Kellers offered various cooked meals, ranging from sausages and potato dumplings to the usual knuckles of pork and roast chickens. There were also various food stalls grouped along the paths between the various Kellers, offering a variety of snacks, both savoury and sweet. This, interspersed with the live music at some of the Kellers, and the fairground attractions at the bottom of the hill, combined to produce a fantastic atmosphere.

We also made a visit to Bamberg as part of the same holiday, and whilst enjoying a few beers in the garden of Café Abseits, got talking to a party of English beer enthusiasts They were also very impressed with Annafest, saying how much better it was than Oktoberfest, and how much cheaper too. Obviously, Oktoberfest is internationally renowned and attracts people from all over the world, whilst Annafest is by nature, much more a locals festival. It is none the worse for that, and we are certainly glad we made the effort to get along to it. and I can thoroughly recommend that you visit.

To sum up, Annafest is very much an event which involves the whole town, plus quite a bit of the surrounding area. On those days when we didn’t attend, we couldn’t help noticing the full trains depositing expectant drinkers at the town’s station, and the crowded buses transporting them up to the Kellerwald.  As I said earlier, the festival appeals to all ages, and it was good to see young people enjoying themselves, quaffing the beer and all without any signs of trouble.

 

Copilot to the rescue

The sharp eyed amongst you, will almost certainly have noticed a distinct change in style with my most recent post. Some might be thinking this isn’t Paul’s normal style, and others might be wondering why this sudden change? You would of course, be right, and the answer lies with Microsoft Copilot, a generative artificial intelligence chatbot. Now that might not mean a lot to some of you, and it doesn’t mean that much to me either, but after witnessing this, and other AI assistants in certain workplace applications, I thought I’d give it a go myself. My prime reason for doing so, is to save time, and it is because bashing out many of these posts takes a lot of preparation. The process normally involves looking through a series of hastily scribbled notes and then scrolling through the numerous photos taken on my phone.

Or at least it does in the “Grand Day Out – What we did on our holidays”, types of post. Others, take a bit more research, but returning to the format mentioned above, a lot of typing is involved, and despite years of practice, I am still a relatively slow person when it comes to generating a coherent and readable, blog post. This is where I have looked elsewhere for assistance-thinking outside the box, if you like, even though it’s a rather cliched turn of phrase. 

The first step was one I took two or three years ago, and that was to purchase a Windows-compatible microphone. These are readily available and compatibly priced, and I have been using this approach for quite some time. However, the technology has its limits, especially when it comes to speech recognition, and whilst some of the text that appears on the screen can be hilarious, other stuff can sometimes appear as pure gibberish. (Obviously it depends on how clearly one speaks, and at what speed, but also when you’re literally talking off the top of your head, whilst thinking on the hoof, it’s perhaps no surprising that what comes out doesn’t equate to what you thought, or indeed hoped, went in). 

Now this is where artificial intelligence (AI) technology comes to the rescue.  I had, in the recent past, used Microsoft’s Copilot software to both spell check and, where necessary re-write, certain chunks of text. This approach seemed to work well, but it wasn’t until yesterday, when faced with four pages of semi-ineligible text that I thought I’d try AI on a much longer piece of prose (such as a blogpost), that my “Day out in Lenham” article came about.

The software took a bit of getting used to, and involved quite a lot of trial and error, but as this approach is the best way to learn, I pressed on. So, the article dated Friday 24th June that you see on you screen is the result of my first, in-depth association with Copilot. It isn’t the entire article as first dictated, but that is deliberate on my part, as I wanted to see what the bulk of the post would look like, and more importantly read like. 

I was pleased with the final result and only needed to make a small number of corrections. I did make a point of removing the sub-headings that Copilot added, as they broke up theft too much, and besides, that’s what I use photos for, but overall, the AI interpretation of my original, recorded text, sums up Friday’s day out in Maidstone and Lenham, perfectly.  For the record, and for the sake of completion, here’s how my afternoon ended.

"After leaving the Red Lion,  my friend John and I walked back to the bus stop with me before continuing a little further to collect his car. I caught the 510 Stagecoach bus back into Maidstone, and soon after, in the narrow village streets of Harrietsham, we encountered the horrendous traffic jam I referred to earlier. How the bus driver managed to get his vehicle through the inconsiderately parked cars, was beyond me. The situation wasn’t helped either by the odd lorry coming the other way.

The situation obviously delayed our journey back to Maidstone, and by the time we arrived back in the county town, the beer had caught up with me. I needed to pay a visit, as they say, and where nearer and more convenient than the imposing Muggleton Inn, which is the large Wetherspoon's pub in the town centre. I think it was either a bank or insurance company office, in a past existence, but whatever its past it’s a rather grandiose building. 

I knew from previous experience that the toilets are upstairs, so I quickly bounded up the two-level ornate staircase, to the welcome relief that came with emptying my bladder. I treated myself to kind of one of the guest ales, in the form of Hop Twister, a 4.5%, pale ale from Salopian Brewery. This citrus flavoured beer didn't really touch the sides, as I was in a bit of a hurry. This was because I wanted to catch the 16:29 train back to Tonbridge, and I was aiming for this service because it's one of the few through trains running between the Medway towns and Tonbridge. Most services involve a change of trains, and platforms at Paddock Wood, but as this one doesn’t, it was worth making the effort to catch it. 

Fortunately, I made it to Maidstone West station in sufficient time to board the train and then enjoy the pleasant, scenic ride back down the Medway Valley, and along to Tonbridge, without leaving my seat. I was lucky too with bus connection at Tonbridge, as I only had a 5-minute wait before the 219 bus came along. It dropped me in Pembury Rd,  just a short walk from Bailey Towers. It was an excellent day out and a good opportunity to catch up with an old, and much cherished, friend". 

A day out in Lenham: trains, pubs, old friends, and changing towns

There’s something quietly satisfying about meeting an old friend in a familiar corner of Kent. A couple of weeks ago, my friend - now living out on the eastern side of the county - and I arranged one of our semi-regular catch-ups. We settled on Lenham, a village almost perfectly placed between us, and one with just enough pubs to make an afternoon disappear very pleasantly.

I opted for public transport, partly out of habit and partly because, after a few pints later on, the presence of a train toilet is a comforting thought. I could have taken the No. 7 bus from Tonbridge to Maidstone and then transferred to the Stagecoach 510 service, but instead I made a hybrid trip: train from Tonbridge to Maidstone West, then bus onward to Lenham.

Changing at trains at Paddock Wood, transferred me onto the Medway Valley Line - a wonderfully scenic route that winds its way up to Strood, following the river Medway through rolling hills and quiet countryside. It’s one of those lines that reminds you Kent is far more than commuter belt and motorways.

Arriving at Maidstone West, I took a stroll toward the river. The old Broadway Shopping Centre - once a must-have feature of any ambitious town in the 80's and 90's - now stood boarded up, a casualty of changing habits and online retail. Maidstone isn’t rundown, but it has undeniably changed since I lived there forty-odd years ago. The traditional shops have thinned out, replaced by vape stores, Middle Eastern groceries, and cafés. Not seedy, just different. A town with a new accent.

The 510 was late, but once aboard, the reasons became obvious. Roadworks, tight bends, and the usual assortment of cars abandoned seemingly at random in villages like Harrietsham - a place that seems to have no parking restrictions whatsoever. Rural bus drivers deserve medals; ours threaded that vehicle through impossible gaps with admirable calm.

Lenham’s village centre is known simply as "The Square", and it really is one. With time to spare before meeting my friend, I ducked into the Dog & Bear - an impressive white-painted Shepherd Neame coaching inn that still offers accommodation. I remember it from decades ago, when it had two distinct bars: Squirrel’s Saloon bar on the left, and Joyce’s Public bar on the right. 

Squirrel, named for his great mutton-chop whiskers, had apparently been responsible for important work on radar installations during the war, and was regarded as something of a "boffin". Joyce, meanwhile, kept the local "lads" in line with effortless authority. There was never any trouble. The modern single-bar layout feels different, but the Master Brew was in good form - better than I’ve had in recent years. Spitfire was also on, but I’ve never been a fan.

Two doors down sits the Red Lion, a 14th-century former Fremlin's pub, now a free house. My friend was already there, sitting in the left-hand bar. We exchanged greetings, he bought the first drink, and I returned the favour, later on. Harvey’s Sussex Best was on tap, and in good form

We spent a couple of hours catching up - life, work, family, the usual threads that weave long friendships together. He’s made a full recovery from a cancer scare a couple of years ago, which added a quiet note of gratitude to the afternoon.

We reminisced about past holidays, including a boating trip with friends, and talked about his writing. His latest book, centred on his uncle Jack’s experiences as a POW on the Burma Railway, seems to be his best yet - full of human interest and extraordinary survival. Jack endured brutal conditions, survived being torpedoed by "friendly fire" from an American submarine,  while being transported by the Japanese, and still made it home to live to a ripe old age.

The food looked good, and I went for the steak pie - proper shortcrust top and bottom, generous filling, succulent steak, rich gravy, mash, peas, and more gravy. Absolutely excellent. One of the best pies I’ve had in a long time, and I told the barmaid so.

It was one of those quietly perfect days: a scenic train ride, a nostalgic wander through a changing town, two characterful pubs, good beer, excellent food, and the kind of conversation that only happens with someone you’ve known for decades.

Sometimes the best days out aren’t grand adventures - just a village square, a couple of pints, and an old friend.

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Return to the Rock

Despite three intense heatwaves in rapid succession, it’s been nice and cool at our factory. This is because we’ve spent a small fortune over the years installing air-conditioning throughout the premises. So much so that it’s almost a pleasure calling in at the office – almost, but not quite! I had to call in last Saturday morning though, to oversee an outdoor project, that involved having our car-parking area delineated with some carefully measured and marked out white lines. The task was only possible out of normal working hours, so me and a colleague drew the short straws to go in and supervise the work.

The bonus was I got to go to the pub afterwards, although my colleague, who had a couple of extra jobs to attend to, was unable to join me. (Don’t feel too sorry for him though, as he is a self-employed electrician, engaged on a contract basis). I left the site, shortly after midday and headed for one of my favourite pubs, although given its isolated location, it’s I don’t often go to. This is a shame as the Rock Inn, at Chiddingstone Hoath, is an absolute gem of a pub, which certainly ticks all the right boxes, as far as I am concerned.

Regular readers of this blog will recall me having written about the Rock, an old drover’s inn, which has retained many original features. It is reported as being close to 500 years old and is so named because it is close to one of several rocky outcrops, which are a feature of this remote corner of Kent. Chiddingstone Hoath is a small, isolated settlement, consisting of a few houses, plus the pub, huddled together on a high sandstone plateau, to the south of the River Eden, in an area known as the High Weald.

The Rock’s antiquity is reflected in both the exterior and interior of the building, which has been lovingly cared for over the years, and the recent alterations have only enhanced this. I have known the pub for the best part of 40 years plus, and despite its remote location have tried to visit it whenever possible. So, last Saturday morning I left my colleague supervising the painting of the car-park, jumped in the car, and drove up to the Rock. My route took me down and across the River Eden - little more than a large stream really, and then up past Larkin's Brewery. The road then begins to climb more steeply, through woodland and then up towards the High Weald.

I left the car in the overspill car-park, just across the road from the pub. This additional space is a welcome addition to the Rock, as parking directly opposite the front of the building was often cramped and congested. Given the heat of the midday sun, it was perhaps not surprising that no-one was sitting out in front of the building, as I made my way towards the entrance, and stepped inside. 

Barring my way were two enormous hounds, with thick bushy coats. I tried to get them to move aside and allow me to enter, but the dogs were having none of it. Fortunately, their owner, who turned out to be the landlord, moved them. They seemed indifferent, and certainly not bothered about being in the way, but they certainly were a size. I imagine they were sweltering, given their substantial woolly coats, and whilst I have no idea as to what breed they were, these beasts would certainly be sufficient to scare off burglars, or other unwanted intruders.

Once passed these hairy pub guardians, I made my way across to the bar counter, which was straight ahead. One feature of the Rock which has always impressed me, is the bare-brick floor, worn smooth by the passage of time, as well as by numerous feet. The large fireplace, with its equally large wood-burning stove, was of course unlit, in contrast to the winter months when a roaring blaze provides a welcoming warmth to that side of the pub. There is also a smaller, and cosier saloon bar leading off to the right, but that area appeared quite quiet. One fairly welcome addition is the opening up of a passage to the left of the counter, which leads down to the rear entrance, and the pub’s attractive garden, but do, however, hold on to the handrail and watch out for the two, steep, brick steps that lead down towards the garden area.

I was greeted by the friendly girl behind the bar, who asked me what I would like to drink. There were two cask offerings the perennial Larkin’s Traditional, or Off the Hook, a hitherto unknown beer (for me at least), from Lakedown Brewery. Lakedown is set on actor and Rock Legend, Roger Daltrey’s family farm, which is home to a brewery, trout fishing lakes, and also provides the inspiration for the business. Lakedown is very much a family affair and is run by Roger's son Jamie and sons-in-laws Des and Chris.

I originally ordered the Larkin’s, but the barmaid mistakenly started pulling me a pint of Lakedown. She noticed before I did, but realising her mistake, and full of apologies, offered to pour me a pint of Larkin’s instead. I told her not to worry and said I would give Mr Daltrey’s beer a go, instead. It was fine and feeling a bit peckish I asked her what snacks were available. I opted for a nice fat, sausage roll, straight out of the oven, and for a few short moments, the conversation turned to beer. I gathered she was a uni-student, home for the summer holidays, and similar in many ways to the girl working behind the bar last year, when I made a previous lunchtime visit.

I took my beer and sausage roll outside to the garden area at the rear of the pub. A strategically placed awning provided some welcome shade, and as if to rub salt in the wound, I forwarded a photo to my work colleague, just to wind him up.  Being a vegan, he probably wasn’t over impressed with the sausage roll, although I’m sure the photo of my pint would have made him thirsty. With body and soul satisfied, I returned my glass to the bar and made tracks for home. 

Fortunately, there were no massive dogs to squeeze past, as I left the pub. On the drive back to Tonbridge, I reflected on how lucky we are to live in such an attractive and picturesque part of the country, and of how blessed we are to still have such fantastic pubs. I really love this rugged, isolated, and quite wild looking, corner of West Kent, as it possesses something that really appeals to me.   

I enjoyed the lengthy, and picturesque drive down into Penshurst, as the road slowly descends from the high ground, characterised by those rocky crags, down towards the river Medway, at the edge of the village. If you are ever in the area, do stop and take a look at the scenery, and if time allows call in for a pint at the unspoilt Rock, as you will have to travel far to find such a fine example of an historic and totally unspoilt country pub.

The Bean re-opens after major refit

Exactly a week ago, I was in Tonbridge mid-morning, having left my car at one of the local garages, for a re-gas of the air-conditioning system, of all things.  It was Mrs PBT’s idea to address the issue of the failing air-conditioning, even though she is not a regular occupant in the passenger seat, but with a week or more into the third heatwave of the summer, I had to admit that the prospect of yet another journey home from work in a steaming hot car, had definitely lost its appeal.

I agreed with my wife, as she knew I would, and consequently booked the vehicle in at a well-known chain that fits accessories and essentials, such as tyres exhausts, batteries etc. quickly.  They also service and re-gas car air conditioning systems.

With the car booked in at 10am, and the work scheduled to take just over an hour, what was there for a poor boy to do? "As sleepy Tonbridge town just ain’t no place for……………" well, you know the rest of Street Fighting Man. Fortunately the solution came quickly in the form of a visit to the Humphrey Bean – Tonbridge’s JDW outlet, which had just reopened after a major refit. The seven-week closure saw the chain pumping £713,000 into a significant refit, which was definitely much more than just a lick of paint.

Stepping inside, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, and the first, quite subtle change I noticed was the improvement to the front door arrangement, which looks as if it’s designed to cut down on drafts. Not an issue in the summer, of course, but a feature that undoubtedly, will come into its own during the rest of the year. The thing that hasn’t changed, of course, is the overall layout. I don’t know why, but perhaps I was expecting something a little bit more adventurous, to what we got. However, the layout of a lengthy bar along a substantial side of the RH wall, obviously works, so why bother changing it? 

The interior scheme embraces deep, dark reds, complemented, of course, by a brand-new, and uniquely patterned Wetherspoon’s carpet. Whilst many people will be aware of Spoon’s policy on carpets for their pubs, not everyone is and so, as stated above, as well a reminder for those who already know, every one of Wetherspoon’s pubs has its own, unique patterned carpet.  In terms of layout, there is a comforting mix of the familiar and the modern, especially for regular visitors. To the right of the entrance, the two large booth seating areas, flanked by bookcases have been preserved, although they now boast fresh upholstery. Further inside, the familiar long bar remains in its usual position, but it has been given a much needed update with illuminated pictures of Tonbridge across the front panels. The large firepit area towards the rear also remains intact as a central feature. 

Customers can explore a range of displays, including the history of Tonbridge School, the story of local 19th century character Humphrey Bean, the life and work of war poet Sidney Keyes, the literary connections of E.M. Forster, and the intricate craftsmanship behind Tunbridge Ware. One of the most notable enhancements is the installation of a row of comfortable booths along the back right wall. Complete with accessible power sockets, they provide an ideal space for guests looking to work, study, or spend a few productive hours on a laptop. 

Outside, the beer garden has been redesigned. The previously tiered section at the far end has been levelled, creating a more practical and versatile outdoor space for visitors to enjoy. The number of plants, plus shrubs has been reduced as well as the space devoted to them – probably good news for hay fever sufferers, and also good for water conservation in the current, near drought conditions. One observation I noted, from another commenter, concerned the toilets, pointing out that little, if anything, had changed in this area. 

I didn’t venture inside to try them, despite the well-known diuretic effect of two mugs of coffee, but with outside temperatures already heading towards the 30’s, I had no pressing need to make use of the “facilities”. So, as the old saying goes, “If it isn’t broke, don’t try fixing it”. The only other change I noticed was that the former two banks of hand pulls, one at each end of the bar, have been replaced by a slightly larger, single set of pumps, which seems a far more sensible modification – one that makes a lot more sense for both punters and bar staff, alike.

Before wrapping this post up, it’s worth taking a look back at the lines I wrote describing what I saw, and how I felt on the first time I set foot in the Humphrey Bean. I stated that I was decidedly underwhelmed, even though then, like now I wasn’t sure what to expect. The issue lies with the building itself, and it’s worth remembering that the Bean was formerly Tonbridge’s main Post Office – a crown building, no less. The rear section of the building, was the section that none of the public ever saw, because back in the day, it was also the town's sorting office, and area, with its shed-like appearance is where the bar is situated.

So, given that the architects had a rather mishmash of a building to work with, it’s not surprising that the Bean looks like it does today. It's fair to say the pub is not one of JDW's most imaginative conversions, although the designers made the best of what was there. The smaller and more cosy section at the front, (the area with a ceiling of normal height), is where the Post Office counters were, originally sited. Contrast this with the shed/green house section and you’ll appreciate where I’m coming from.

To be fair, this section is bright and airy, with plenty of tables, and includes a raised area on the left-hand side. This section leads through to a large, attractive and well laid out garden, which looks out across the River Medway to Tonbridge's imposing 13th Century castle. This is without a doubt the Humphrey Bean's best feature. The Humphrey Bean has long been something of a Tonbridge institution, and it is hard to imagine what the town was like before Wetherspoon's came on the scene.