On
New Year’s Eve I finally managed to escape the confines
of the house to take a wander down into
Tonbridge. It wasn’t my first venture
outside of the house, as I had been out three days before, primarily to drop my
unwell car off at
Halfords, for a diagnostic check, after the engine started misfiring
and running erratically. It was a virtual re-run of the problem I experienced
back in
September, when
Matthew and I were driving back from a visit to
Dorking.
On that occasion we had to be recovered from
Clackets Lane
services, but the second time around, I managed to limp the vehicle back home.
Matthew was with me again, and we were on our
way back from the
Tesco Superstore at
Riverhead. The way the car was handling
suggested a repeat of
September’s breakdown, namely a faulty fuel injector, and
this was confirmed via a phone call, from
Halfords, whilst I was sitting in the cafe in
Waitrose,
enjoying a flat white and a cookie.
Replacing an injector was a job which
Halfords were unable
to do, so after collecting my vehicle, and limping it back to
Bailey Towers, I
headed off to the station and boarded a train to
High Brooms. I had pre-booked
a look, plus a test drive at the local
Skoda dealer, and to cut a long story
short, I ended up placing a deposit on a much newer, and shinier
SUV. The
vehicle is now parked on my drive, after I collected it yesterday afternoon, but
this isn’t a post for petrol-heads, but rather is some general background
information as to why I was out and about on the last day of the year.
Although mis-named, and over exaggerated, the
100-day cough that
had been doing a tour of the
UK left
Mrs PBT’s and I decidedly under the
weather -
Eileen rather more so than me. Son
Matthew also copped a dose as
well, although being younger than his parents (I shan’t say fitter), he bounced
back a lot quicker than we did. I took a slightly different route into the town, following a
path that led me through the maze of newish apartment blocks that have sprung
up over the past couple of decades, on land either close to, or actually
overlooking the
River Medway. This area represents the town’s largest piece of
development land, and additional space for building has recently become
available following the demolition and removal of two large
gasholders. These
relics of from a bygone age were something of a local landmark, and their
removal upset quite a few local people. I remember spotting them from the air,
whilst on a flight coming in towards
Gatwick, but now they are no more, a
substantial piece of development land has been created. Nice as these new dwellings are, very few, if any of them
are within the reach of first-time buyers. This is a real bug bear, as far as I
am concerned, and I know I’m not the only local person who feels this way. I
digress, but with a son unable to get onto the housing ladder, and still living
at home, you can perhaps understand my frustration.
Moving swiftly on, I had another reason for visiting the
town centre, apart from wishing to escape a spot of cabin fever, and that was
to visit a local hostelry.
Mrs PBT’s had probably guessed as much, but then
after nearly
40 years of marriage, she knows me only too well. I walked along
the towpath into the centre of
Tonbridge, and crossed the river by the
"Big
Bridge", as this
Victorian structure is known to the local townsfolk. I then
made my way along to
Fuggles Beer Café, which looked busier than I thought it
would be – although it was
New Year’s Eve.
I made my way inside, and fortunately despite the crowds,
there were still a number of empty chairs and free tables. I spotted a familiar
face sat at one of the tables, so after buying myself a pint I walked over and
said hello to
Keith and asked if I could join him.
Keith lives within walking
distance of
Fuggles and often brings his two dogs with hm, along to the pub, for
an afternoon pint or two, so surprised to see just one hound lying under the table, I
asked where the other one was. Sadly, one of the dogs had died, although
Keith advised
that the animal didn’t suffer.
A choice of three cask ales was on offertory tempt the enthusiast,
and I started off with an excellent pint of
Jarl, from
Fyne Ales. Extremely
pale in colour, this single hop, session, blonde ale is the brewery’s flagship
beer, and I was really tempted to have another. Also on sale was
High Contrast,
an
American Pale Ale from
Downlands Brewery. Keith bought himself a pint, and I
followed suit, shortly after. It was a decent enough beer, but not really a
patch on the
Jarl. The third cask offering was the ubiquitous Plum Porter, from
Titanic Brewery which, as its name suggests, is a plum-infused porter. There
are people who rave over this beer, but neither of us fancied drinking, even just
a half of it. Looking back, the last time I sampled this
Titanic brew, was in
Birmingham, back in
April, at the legendary
Barton’s Arms. My notes tell me that I
only had a half on that occasion.
As I said earlier,
Fuggles was ticking over nicely, but without
being overcrowded. The management were obviously expecting an influx of people later
on, as there were plenty of staff lined up behind the bar, all eager to pull
pints for the cafes thirsty customers.
The latter were made partly of small groups, interspersed with several
large ones. With several women, holding very small babies that were probably just
a few weeks old, the term “yummy mummy” sprang to mind, although perhaps
Mumsnet would be a better description. Babies were passed around, not so much amongst
admirers, but probably because mum fancied a break, but the various infants were
all well behaved, so much so that you wouldn’t have known they were there.
I had a brief chat at the bar with one, thankfully child free lady,
who was raving about the glass of Bruges Zot she’d just ordered. I didn’t have
the heart to say it wasn’t amongst my favourites, although I did tell her I’d
visited the Brouwerij De Halve Maan, where the beer is brewed, on my last visit
to the city. Fuggles is that sort of place, where
people are genuinely interested in trying different beers, and long may this
continue. Two pints were sufficient
for me and Keith, who'd had a head start on me, was ready to leave too, and get his dog back home. Those beers
in Fuggles, represented my first pints in a pub since bidding farewell to the two
Mudgies at the Wharf in Macclesfield, at the beginning of December. I’m not
sure whether it was a case of absence making the heart grow fonder, but they
didn’t half taste good!
4 comments:
Paul,
I got through last year without any of the ubiquitous Plum Porter at all despite living just twenty miles from the brewery which I went round in the autumn. I did though drink eleven other pints from Titanic.
I’ve had exactly fifty pints in pubs since bidding farewell to you in Macc at the beginning of December.
I'm impressed at your total Paul, and it looks like I've a lot of catching up to do. I'm going out tomorrow evening, to enjoy the start of the Dark Beer Weekend at the Nelson Arms, in Tonbridge. There's are some fine dark ales, including milds, porters and stouts on the list, and a full report will follow in due course.
Plum Porter and Jarl in Fuggles ? Shame I missed those on New Years Eve, when I had that Zoe and wasn't that impressed either, a bit thin. Imported beers on draught aren't always great.
Fuggles have quite a quick turnover of beers in both their outlets. They also regularly update the beer lists regularly.
I know what you mean about imported beers not always tasting as good, as in their country of origin.
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