Getting (friar) tucked-in!

After a busy weekend there’s a lot more than usual to post about, so let’s get straight on with a quick post about yet another local breakfast venue, and a pub one at that.

The Robin Hood is a large estate pub on the edge of Tunbridge Wells,  close to the area known as High Brooms. The pub was built at the end of the Edwardian era and started life as a private residence. It became a public house in 1971, primarily to cater for the residents of the adjacent Sherwood housing estate, and was named the Robin Hood because of the Sherwood Forest connection.

For much of its existence the pub belonged to Whitbread and, despite me not being a fan of estate pubs, I became quite well acquainted with the Robin Hood during the late 1980’s, when I worked on the nearby North Farm Industrial Estate.

After Whitbread ceased being a brewer, and started running hotels and coffee shops instead, the Robin Hood passed into the hands of Enterprise Inns, and in 2007 a major refurbishment was carried out. It was somewhat surprising then when, just six years later, Enterprise closed the pub and put it up for sale. 

Fortunately, Greene King stepped in and rescued the pub, converting it into a Hungry Horse in the process. The Suffolk brewer seems to have made a good job of the conversion, as the Robin Hood usually seems busy, attracting customers from both the local estate and slightly further afield.

Son Matthew and I fitted into the latter category on Sunday, when we called in after a visit to the nearby “waste transfer station”, otherwise known as Tunbridge Wells tip. 

We arrived a few minutes after the 11 o’clock opening, so were surprised to see a few hardened drinkers already there, getting stuck into their pints. No beer for us though, but rather a mug of tea each to accompany our £2.99 full English breakfast. Actually the bill came to slightly more, as with the drink option, plus a round of toast each, breakfast worked out at just over a fiver each.

It was freshly cooked and pretty decent, my only gripe being the lack of hot plates. We could perhaps done

without having to listen to the chavvy couple who came and sat just across from where we were sitting – is it some kind of strange “herd instinct” which makes certain people gravitate to where others are sitting, even when there’s acres of empty space elsewhere?

Such is life, but the bottom line is yet another place for a decent start to the day, without breaking the bank; or indeed having to steal from the rich!