Sun sets on the Rising Sun

CAMRA's WhatPub describes the Rising Sun, at Cotman's Ash as, "a remote hilltop pub with a fading pub sign, which makes it difficult to find." The fact it is hidden behind a hedge, in an area criss-crossed with hedgerows, makes discovery even harder. Persistence pays off though, and it is well worth the extra effort in tracking the pub down.

At least it was, but sadly, on the very same day that Britain turned its back on the European Union, and shut up shop in Brussels, the Rising Sun also pulled its very last pint. Faced with a steadily declining trade, the current landlady, who took over the pub with her late husband in the early 90's, has decided to call it a day.

This is a real tragedy for those who love unspolit country pubs, but it is difficult, if nigh impossible in this day and age, to make a living from a pub that relies solely on wet sales. Although the Rising Sun was popular with walkers, especially during the summer months, the understandable reluctance of driving there, and being limited to just a couple of drinks, was hardly an encouragement for trade.

I've been told that the Rising Sun did at one time serve food, and was well patronised, so I'm not sure why this important side of the business was dropped, but as from 1st February, the pub is now a private residence. The landlady will continue to live there, but with no apparent interest from her children in taking the place over, the Rising Sun seems unlikely to re-open as a pub.

Last Sunday I joined a small group of local CAMRA members on a rather muddy walk to this classic old country pub; a walk prompted, and hastily arranged, by news of its imminent closure. Our walk started from Otford station, and followed the route of the North Downs Way. You can read about it here.

WhatPub's description is accurate, as were it not for the sign poking up from behind the hedgerow, we would have walked straight passed. The Rising Sun has a flint exterior and is  thought to be a  former hunting lodge.  It sits in its own grounds,  which include a reasonably-sized  beer garden with a vegetable plot at the far end. The presence of a hen coupe completes the image of a rural small-holding.

As we arrived, we were greeted by a couple of dogs, followed by the landlady, who was making her way out with a couple of large bird feeders. She stopped in her tracks and returned inside instead, ready to serve us.

It seemed quite dark inside the pub, but as she made her way back behind the bar, she told us to make ourselves at home around the table in front of the fireplace. The interior of the Rising Sun has the sort of oak beams you'd expect in an old country inn, with the main centre of activity grouped around the bar. There is a room to the right, but this seemed to be a general "dumping ground," and was full with boxes, piles of magazines and all other sorts of clutter.

Leading off to the left, behind the chimney and fireplace is a much larger and more spacious room, furnished with a number of old settees and armchairs. This area is also carpeted and had the feel of an old fashioned parlour, or sitting room. My grandparents had such a room at the far end of their Suffolk cottage. It was only used for best, or special occasions, such as entertaining visitors, or important guests.

The landlady's dogs had made themselves at home in this room, unlike the pub cat which took a real shine to one of my friends, perching itself on his lap for the duration of our stay. As for the beer, well it ran out, the single hand-pump had a beer from there was just enough for a pint each for the five of us, before the cask ran dry.

The beer in question was Giggle & Titter, a 3.8% session IPA from Parkway Brewery - very Frankie  Howerd - "titter ye not," for those who remember the late comedian. The brewery are based in the Somerset market town of Somerton, and the beer's name is rhyming slang for "bitter." It was rather good, so the fact that it ran out was even more disappointing.

The landlady said that was it, as with the pub closing at the end of the week, she was running stocks down. She told us that rather ironically, after announcing she was shutting up shop, back in the autumn, she'd had one of busiest periods for a long time; in fact the past three months had seen more sales than the previous year!

So if you like pubs to be homely and unchanged, like me you will be sorry to see the loss  of the Rising Sun. As a relic from yesteryear, its passing represents the disappearance of yet another unique, quaint, old-fashioned and rather special, time-warp pub. Years ago most country pubs were like this, and I can recall many similar establishments that have either closed their doors or been converted into upmarket eateries.

The latter seems the only way such gems can survive, but sadly it is now too late to enjoy this one. Last Sunday represented only my third visit to the Rising Sun, so three visits in over thirty years is hardly much of a record, and if other people's visits were as infrequent as mine, nowhere near enough to keep a pub like this going.

A real shame, as the landlady made us all feel welcome, as did the small group of regulars, crowded in front of the bar. Where they will drink now is anyone's guess, but I can't help thinking that sadly, we have lost something rather unique and very special.