Romney Marsh - the bit in the middle

Last Saturday’s ride out, by vintage coach, to the flatlands of Romney Marsh and beyond was excellent. The sun shone all day, the four pubs we visited were all good, in their own right, and the company I shared the journey with was first class. The trip was organised by an old friend of mine, on behalf of Maidstone & Mid- Kent CAMRA.

As mentioned in my previous post, I used to be a member of that branch, and have kept in touch with various members over the years. The coach we travelled in was and no doubt was the height of luxury in its day, and still bore the legend, and paintwork, of its former owners, Camden Coaches of Sevenoaks. I managed to find a few photos of it on a bus enthusiast’s website, (yes all life is there somewhere on the net, if you know where to look for it), and it is an AEC  Reliance – if that means anything.

The coach picked me up, as planned and on time, from Headcorn station. There were 25 people on board, excluding me and the relief driver, and I couldn’t help noticing, as I made my was to a vacant seat, that some serious card playing was  taking place. I declined an offer  to join in, and instead settled down to enjoy the journey through Tenterden, Appledore and then down onto Romney Marsh itself.

We arrived at the Red Lion, Snargate 15 minutes before opening time, which gave people a chance to stretch their legs (the main contingent from Maidstone had been on the coach for nearly two hours), walk down the lane for a look at the 13^th Century church of St Dunstan, take a few photos or make use of the outside Gentleman’s "facilities".

Now I bet you’re all itching to know what the Red Lion was like, had it changed at all since the passing of long-saving landlady, or just what beers it had on. Well, I’m afraid you will just have to wait, as the Red Lion is worthy of its own write up. The same applies to the Carpenter’s Arms at Coldred, which was the final pub visited that day.

So after an hour and 15 minutes at the Red Lion enjoying a selection of gravity-served beers, and some good conversation, it was back on the bus and off to the Bell at Ivychurch. This was the second pub of the day and our scheduled lunch-stop. The journey through the winding lanes of the Marsh took just over 10 minutes, and we could see the pub, right in front of the 14^th Century parish church, as we approached the village.

Any pretensions I might have had about having visited the Bell before went out of the window, as I quickly realised that I had never set foot in the place until Saturday. The pub dates from the 16^th Century, but has a modern, flat-roofed extension on the far right of the building.

The proximity of pub and church harks back to medieval times, and for many the two form the perfect combination, but for us thirsty explorers it was beer, and food, that we were after. The Bell is surprisingly large inside, with a long single bar area. The bar counter is opposite the entrance, whilst the area to the left is given over largely to diners. There is a games area, housed in the modern extension, at the far right of the building. Pool and darts may be played there.

The pub still remains very much a village local, and there certainly seemed to be a few characters congregating around the bar, as we entered. With just a few days until that most unwelcome of American imports, the Bell was decorated with a distinct Halloween theme, as evidenced by the ornately carved pumpkins near the entrance, and the fireplace which was decked out in a similar fashion. 

The pub was expecting us, as the tour organiser had not only checked first, but had also taken orders for everyone’s main course and emailed their preferences through to the licensees. I was impressed by the way the pub staff  managed our party of 28, getting us all sat down at a number of reserved tables, and then bringing the food out on a table by table basis. Unfortunately the table I sat at was the last to be served, but when the food eventually arrived it proved well worth the wait.

Being a dedicated pie-man, I’d opted for the steak and Cheddar pie; an unusual combination which actually worked well. The cheese was present in the inner layer of the pastry, and complemented the tender steak filling. What’s more it was a “proper pie”, as the photo demonstrates.

There were four beers on tap; Adnam’s Broadside, St Austell Trelawney, a beer from Navigation Brewery, whose name escapes me, plus the dreaded Doom Bar. I started off with the Trelawney, but despite it being served in excellent condition, it wasn’t the beer for me. There was something about it which I couldn’t put my finger on, although I suspect it was down to the Galaxy hops, imported from Australia.

These impart a rather peachy flavour to the beer, which was not to my liking. I subsequently switched to the Broadside, which was  on top form. We left after paying for our food, and finishing our beer. I think it was around half three when we departed, and I thought it a nice gesture when the landlord came over and thanked us individually for our custom, as we made our way out.

It was then back on the coach for the half hour journey to Hythe. For me, the route was pure nostalgia because, as children, my sister and I were regular visitors to Romney Marsh, in the company of our parents, on family trips to the seaside. So as the coach made its way into New Romney, and then along the coast to St Mary’s Bay and Dymchurch, the memories came flooding back. The road eventually leads into Hythe, after first skirting the extensive MOD firing ranges to the south-west of the town.

Hythe itself, is a pleasant little town, and was one of the original Cinque Ports. Looking at Hythe today, it’s difficult to believe that the town was once a bustling seaport, but over the years the harbour gradually silted up, depriving the townsfolk of their livelihood.  Traces of the original haven can still be seen at the northern end of the Royal Military Canal, at Seabrook, where it reaches the coast.

We were making for a tiny corner pub called the Three Mariners, close to the canal which was originally constructed during the Napoleonic Wars, as part of fortifications designed to repel a potential invasion. The pub is a pleasant back street local, with a roaring fire during winter (it was lit on Saturday), good beer, two distinct rooms, friendly staff and a good feel to it. It is also dog friendly.

While most of our party piled into the left hand bar, a small group of us opted for the other bar, where we even managed to grab a table. The beer offering was Adnam’s Lighthouse, Old Dairy Blue Top and Young’s Bitter. I went for the Blue Top, as I am a big fan of Old Dairy beers. I was also pacing myself at this stage of the proceedings, so just stuck with the one pint.

The sun was beginning to set as we left the pub for our final stop of the day. This was to be the Carpenter’s Arms, in the tiny village of Coldred, tucked away on the North Downs to the north-west of Dover. The first part of the journey was another nostalgia trip for me, as the coach headed out of Hythe, through Seabrook and towards Sandgate.

The sea looked as calm as a millpond, as we drove along the front, before heading up the hill into Folkestone. This route  through Hythe was always my father’s preferred option on trips to Folkestone; rather than the more direct A20. I used to wonder why as a child, but with the wisdom of maturity I can understand why he and my mother always opted for the scenic route, with its views of the sea.

We skirted through the back of Folkestone and picked up the M20 towards Dover, turning off before reaching the town, and into unknown territory. It was getting dark as our coach turned into Coldred, but for the moment, this is where the narrative ends because, as mentioned towards the beginning of this post, you will have to wait until next time to find out what this “time-warp” pub was actually like.