Feeling fuggled in Fuggles

Following on from my long overdue return to the Rock at Chiddingstone Hoath, the second pub I visited recently, was a complete contrast. Fuggles Beer Café in Tonbridge is slap-bang in the town centre and is not a pub in the true sense of the word. Instead, it is much more a continental-style beer café, just as its name suggests, but is none the worse for that.

I like Fuggles and I like its ambience. I also much prefer the Tonbridge outlet to its Tunbridge Wells namesake despite the latter being the original Fuggles and acting as the model for branch for both of these beer emporiums.

It’s got a lot to do with the right and airy feel given by the large plain windows at the front of the Tonbridge building, together with its high ceiling. With the bar towards the rear, and set to one side, it is better laid out than its older sibling, but then I’m sure it’s a case of practice makes perfect.

I had only made one visit since Fuggles re-opened, and that was before the full lifting of restrictions on July 19^th. It was table service only, at the time, but that didn’t matter, as to me this enhanced the continental appeal of the place. Even after Covid restrictions were relaxed, the staff carried on wearing masks and apart from the ordering of drinks, customers are discouraged from standing at the bar with their drinks.

Again, I don’t view this as a problem, as Fuggles never was a “stand-up-to-drink” type of establishment. So, on a wet and windy Saturday afternoon, having finished a number of household chores and some personal “office-type” stuff, I headed off down into Tonbridge and made my way to Fuggles to enjoy a few of the beers they had on offer.

I had another reason for going there and that was the £15 voucher I received for being a loyal FUGSCLUB Member – the bottled beer subscription service that sees 12 different beers (dark ones in my case), delivered to one’s door, each month. The voucher covers June, July, and August, but with the first two months already passed, I thought it high time that I used it, and treated myself to a few well-deserved beers.

I was rather disappointed to discover then that the voucher has to be used over a single session, as there is no facility to carry over any unused credit to another time. So not wishing to sit there and down three pints on my own, I paid by card with the intention of saving the voucher for another day. 

If young master Matthew plays his card right, him and I can enjoy a lad’s session on some of the contemporary lagers that grace the bar, beers like, Utopian British Lager and Lost & Grounded Keller Pils. I also noticed an interesting strong 7% lager, another offering from Utopian called Utopian Rainbock.

This time around I stuck with cask, starting of with a pint of Southern Cross from Kent Brewery. This pale coloured, light and fruity ale, is brewed using Australian hops (Southern Cross?), and very tasty it was too!

There was a good mixed crowd in that afternoon, all drawn by the impressive beer selection and the ambience that goes with it. In the main, they were ordinary folk, and not the “craft hipster” brigade alleged by some outside observers, who never actually set foot in the place!

I was debating what to have next, when the decision was forced on me by the appearance of one of the bar staff. She asked me if I was having another beer? I opted for a further beer from the cask range, this time going for a dark one, in the form of Devil’s Dyke Porter, a full-bodied 5.0% porter from Downlands Brewery.  

Upon her return with my beer, she offered me a Fuggles Loyalty Card, complete with two stamps, which was a nice touch. I seem to have quite a collection of these things in my wallet, but they’re always worth hanging on to, especially as they eventually lead to a free pint!

It was whilst getting stuck into this second pint that the thought hit me that I should have had a shorter measure. Fuggles offer ⅔rd pint measures, and that perhaps would have been more suitable. Matthew had offered me a lift home once he’d finished work. I just had to walk along to his shop, at the other end of the High Street and wait for him to finish cashing up.

By the time I’d finished my pint, it was a bit of a rush, which is why the slightly smaller measure might have been better. True to form, and as impatient as ever, he phoned me before I’d even crossed the bridge, to ask me where I was. The strange thing is I felt more than a little tipsy, proving I am no longer used to mid-afternoon drinking.

Small matter, I’d spent an enjoyable hour and a half renewing my acquaintance with one of Tonbridge’s premier beer outlets, and on a wet Saturday afternoon, there was precious little else to be doing instead.