Hooray Henley

Last Fridays trip to Henley on Thames was only my third visit to this pleasant, riverside town, since I was born. Arriving in Henley last week and walking a short distance into the centre of the town, brought back memories from childhood of my first visit to the town. It was the sight of the imposing Victorian town hall which dominates the central square, that transported me back to when I was at primary school. I was with my parents and younger sister, and we were on our way to Pembrokeshire, for a family holiday.

We drove all the way from our home near Ashford, in a converted Austin A35 van, which was our four-wheeled method of transport, at the time. Somehow the four of us managed to squeeze into the vehicle, along with sufficient luggage to last us over a two week stay on the caravan site overlooking the small seaside town of Saundersfoot. Our journey was mainly on A-roads, as the only motorway we encountered was the short-elevated stretch of the M4, that took us out of west London.

The motorway came to a halt to the east of Reading, so having driven up from Kent and right through central London, dad was ready for a break, especially after our 5 o’clock start! Mum had packed up a picnic for us to eat on the way, which was something of a family tradition. She also acted as navigator. This was back in the day when, if you were a member of one of the motoring organisations, the AA in dad's case, you could write to them, in advance, and request a journey planner. This would then be posted back to you ready for your journey.

The planner was essentially a small, thin flip chart, with a black and white linear map showing road numbers and relevant junctions, together with a section of text on each page. It was simple but effective, and the 1960’s equivalent of Google Maps. As a back-up, dad also brought with him a number of Bartholomew’s Road Maps, cloth backed, to prevent the map from falling apart at the folds, and with a scale of half-inch to one mile, ideal if you wanted to get the bigger picture.

My parents must have decided between that Henley on Thames would be a good place stop for breakfast, and I can still remember pulling up outside that town hall in order to make use of the public toilets in the basement. We then drove down to the river and parked up, overlooking the Thames. The breakfast part off the picnic (there would be more to follow for lunch), was unpacked from the Tupperware box - mum swore by Tupperware for keeping food fresh, and we sat there in the van enjoying a selection of filled roles. The latter were almost certainly meat paste, pork luncheon meat, accompanied by that extra that no picnic of the era could be without a hard-boiled egg or two.

My sister and I amused ourselves by throwing odd scraps of bread to the ducks, and six decades later there were still plenty of ducks bobbing up and down on the Thames, when Matthew and I walked along the river bank. Obviously, a lot of water has flown under the bridge, in between those visits, but four and a half decades ago, I made my second visit to Henley. This would have been in 1980, when my CAMRA friend Nigel and I drove to Henley, in a hired van, to pick up some pre-ordered casks of Brakspear’s, from the town’s brewery. The beer was part of an order for what was probably the first Maidstone Beer Festival. As part of the same trip, we also called in at Wethered's Brewery in nearby Marlowe.

There were no specialised beer agencies back then, so it was normally necessary to collect beer direct from individual breweries. It was fun calling at these places, and after loading up, enjoying a pint or two, in a local pub. Back in 1980, Brakspear’s Brewery, sited just a stone’s throw from the river, was thriving, but seeing the brewery 43 years later, was a sad occasion for me. The buildings themselves remain intact and appear well maintained, but the insides have been completely gutted. The brew-house, for example, is now a luxury boutique hotel managed by the Hotel du Vin group, whilst the maltings, on the opposite side of the road have been converted into luxury apartments. Finally, the mineral water factory & bottling plant next to the brewery now seems to contain offices.

I described briefly in the previous article, just how easy it is now to reach Henley by train, and rail seems popular with the travelling public, and as proof of this, the small shuttle train from Twyford, was packed out with students, plus visitors like ourselves. I was always aware that Henley was a very upmarket town, and this seemed evident by the large number of varied independent shops we noticed as we walked into the busy and vibrant centre. The only supermarket we saw was a Waitrose, - what else? tucked away close to the station.

After looking around at the town’s shops, its former brewery and the river, it was time for some liquid refreshment, and what better than a pint of Brakspear’s? Even though the beer is no longer produced in Henley, it would be rude not to enjoy a few pints of it in its former hometown. Being close to the river we walked alone the embankment till we came to the Angel on the Bridge which as its name suggests, is virtually on the main bridge across the Thames.

As we approached, we noticed the pub had a lower terrace looking out across the river, but we entered from the door leading straight off from the bridge. We discovered a small and comfortable bar to the left, with another small room to the right. There were two cask ales on sale – Well’s Bombardier and Brakspear’s Gravity. The latter is the new, and to my mind rather ridiculous, name for Brakspear’s Bitter. I opted for the latter as I have never been a fan of Bombardier. Matthew noticed the Pilsner Urquell font, so he went for a part of that, but before pouring our drinks the barmaid asked if we would be drinking inside the pub or out on the terrace.

I wasn't quite sure at first why she wanted to know, but after guessing correctly, I said “Presumably it's plastic outside.” “Correct” was the reply, so inside it was, as who wants to drink out of a horrible plastic beaker? Mind you plastic might have improved the taste of the beer, because it certainly wasn't the best pint of Brakspear’s I’ve had, and not what I expected to find in its hometown. We had a quick look around the rest of the pub, before opting to sit in the small room close to the bar, where a welcoming log fire was blazing away in the grate. Had the beer been better I might have been tempted to stay for lunch, but working on the basis of you win some you lose some, decided to move on.

Before leaving, I spend quite a bit of time looking at What Pub, trying to find a place to eat which offered a reasonably priced menu. This was Henley on Thames though, and prices certainly seemed to match the location. All we both really wanted was somewhere serving basic pub grub, rather than a place with a posh a la carte menu. One or two places that looked reasonable, weren’t serving food until 3 o'clock or later - how bizarre! I decided then, much to Matthew's astonishment that we would head along to the Catherine Wheel, the local JWD outlet in Henley. This imposing former coaching inn was just a short walk away, right in the centre of town, as one would expect from a building of this stature.

The pub dates from the 15^th Century and has slowly expanded over the years. In 1679 the proprietor became mayor of Henley, and the pub grew considerably during the19^th Century  when it served as the town’s premier coaching inn. Today, it is a relatively small hotel, owned and run by Wetherspoons, which has 30 guest bedrooms. The Catherine Wheel is certainly a grandiose place and impressive place and Wetherspoon’s have done a good job in both preserving and bringing out the best features of this rambling old coaching inn.

Matthew and I made our way into the right-hand bar and, as the time had gone 2:00 pm, went for the Friday afternoon meal deal - or at least I did. My choice was an admittedly small steak and kidney pudding, served with mash peas and gravy.  Matthew, somewhat predictably, had burger and chips, along with a glass of something cold, yellow, and fizzy. I opted for a pint of Mutiny from Rebellion Brewery, described on Untappd, as a full bodied, red coloured premium ale. It wasn't bad, and at just under a tenner for both beer and the meal, I couldn't really complain.

So why was Paul going into a Wetherspoon’s pub, especially given his well-known antipathy towards the chain's tousle-headed owner? It would take too long to explain here, but when I finally get around to writing my definitive article on Wetherspoon’s, you will realise that this is just another chapter in my love hate relationship with the chain.

The afternoon was wearing on, so there was time for another quick look around Henley, and a final pint before the train home. We walked up to the old Town Hall, took a few photos for posterity's sake, and then walked back to the Three Tuns, a charming little Brakspear’s pub, that we noticed earlier. We discovered a long narrow pub with a corridor running down the left-hand side. We nipped into the front bar, where it was yet another pint of Gravity. Fortunately, the beer was in much better condition than it was at the Angel. Matthew had another lager, and with drinks in hand we managed to find a seat close to the window.

We chatted briefly with a man sitting next to the window. He was waiting for his lady friend to arrive. His black Labrador dog, that was lying under the table, was also waiting expectantly, and was almost beside itself with excitement when his mistress finally arrived.  The man ordered a pot of tea for his companion (not the dog), plus a Guinness for himself. It was all very civilised, but then so is Henley.

Matthew and I had just the one pint before drinking up and making our way back to the station. Our visit had been a good one, even though we only scratched the surface of Henley. With so much more of the UK to explore, it’s unlikely I shall find time to return, but you never know!