Pub Friday returns

After the doom and gloom of the previous post, you’ll be relieved to learn that I've got something a lot lighter for today. Yesterday was the first Pub Friday, not just for January, but for the coming year, and despite freezing conditions I headed off to explore a location I’d only visited on a handful of occasions. Naturally there was a pub involved as well, and it was one that I’d only driven past previously. The village of Rusthall is a relatively modern settlement of around 5,000 souls, situated on a ridge, to the west of Tunbridge Wells. The village is hidden away because, despite its proximity to the busy A264, which runs towards East Grinstead, it is separated from the road by an area of common land which merges into the much larger Tunbridge Wells Common.

There are a couple of pub in Rusthall, including the Red Lion, which is the one I was interested in. Although first licensed in 1415, the Red Lion is thought to have been trading for some time before this date.  The old coaching road between London and Brighton, allegedly ran past the pub, meaning that the Red Lion has been providing weary travellers with refreshment, for more than six centuries. I'd driven pass the place a number of times, but had never ventured inside, primarily because the pub used to belong to Shepherd Neame. In recent years it was sold off by the brewery and is now, a free house, selling Harvey’s along with one other beer.  

There was now a good reason for me to visit, but could I get there using public transport? I was aware that the No. 291 Metrobus service, that runs between Tunbridge Wells and Crawley, passes close to Rusthall, as it continues along the A264 towards East Grinstead. This meant I could leave the bus, walk the short distance into Rusthall, before continuing to the area known as the Lower Green, where the Red Lion is situated. I checked out the route on Google Street View, which confirmed there is a pavement running all the way from the top of the village to the lower part. So, no danger to life or limb, by walking along a narrow country lane.

My connecting bus from Tonbridge dropped me outside the town’s Royal Victoria Place shopping centre, with sufficient time for a quick visit to the bank, before boarding the 12:52 service towards Crawley. I’d planned to leave the bus at for Rusthall Church, but as the indicator display on the bus wasn't working, I missed the stop. I mentioned this to the driver, although he didn't seem bothered, and as it was less than 10 minutes’ walk to where I should have got off, it didn’t really matter. I walked back along the edge of the Common, before turning off a northerly direction, along the quaintly named Coach Road, into Rusthall itself.

The village centre, with its shops and other amenities is off to the right, but I continued in the same direction, along Lower Green Road, towards the Red Lion. Along the way I passed the former White Hart, a rather undistinguished pub which ceased trading in 2020, and is now a substantial family home.  The road continued downhill, and it wasn’t long before I reached the pub, sited at the bottom of the slope, close to a bend in the road, and opposite a row of attractive looking cottages. The Red Lion, with its slightly topsy-turvy exterior, looks like it has been part of the landscape for a long time.

The large, neatly cut, rectangular blocks at the base, are cut from local sandstone, whilst the tile-hung upper stories enhance the somewhat chaotic appearance that the pub presents to the outside world. I paused opposite, to take a few photos, before walking across to the pub.  It was only then that I noticed the sign on the front door, asking customers to use the side entrance of the building, which was up a series of slightly slippery, brick steps. I entered what was one of the pub’s two rooms, although the main bar area, and serving counter were housed, in a second room leading off to the right. There was a girl serving behind the counter, and a single customer, sat at the bar, chatting to her. The pair both said hello, which was a nice, friendly touch, and as I visually scanned the bar, my eyes fixed on the two hand pumps on the counter. One was for Harvey’s Best, whist the other was for XXXX Old Ale, which is Harvey’s seasonal offering, available from October through to March.

As you can imagine, my face lit up at the sight of the Old Ale, as it is quite hard to come by outside of the Harvey’s’ tied estate. I inquired about the availability of food, whilst my beer was being poured, and was told that the Red Lion specialises in Thai cuisine. Although that sounded tempting, I declined because all I really wanted was a roll, or a sandwich. Fortunately, as compensation of sorts, the pub redeemed itself by stocking Piper’s crisps. After exchanging a few pleasantries with the barmaid, I took my beer and crisps across to a table next to the window, and chose a position where, with my back to the window, I could see what was going on in the rest of the pub. Unless I am physically standing at the bar, this is my default position in any pub.

There wasn’t much happening, until a couple who seemed slightly older than me, came in. They dithered over which drinks to have, although the man sensibly opted for Harvey’s Best.  I didn't notice what his female companion went for, because the next thing that happened was the pair obsessing over where they should sit. The woman muttered it was a shame that the fire hadn’t been lit, at which point the barmaid came over and offered to switch one of the electric heaters on. Seeing as it wasn’t cold in the pub, this seemed a rather superfluous gesture, but the pair obviously weren’t listening, as they plonked themselves down at the table next to mine. Safety in numbers, or some strange kind of herding instinct, but they couldn’t have sat much closer to me, if they tried!

Fortunately, they didn’t have much to say, so I got stuck into my pint of Old Ale, whilst soaking up the atmosphere of this centuries old pub. Like many buildings of a similar age the Red Lion has plenty of old, exposed beams, and bare wooden floors. There was also a fireplace in each bar, and whilst neither was lit, the pub was already warm and welcoming enough. I imagine the place comes into its own during the evenings, as according to the posters on the walls, plus assorted placards, the Red Lion majors strongly on live music, spread across several different genres.

The bus back to Tunbridge Wells runs on an hourly basis, so I needed to time my departure from the Red Lion, accordingly.  There was time for another half, but not for full pint, so I carried out a spot of online searching to decide where to go next.  I was mindful being stuck on a bus between Tunbridge Wells and Tonbridge whilst the schools are chucking out. I've been in that situation before, with a bus crammed full of boisterous school kids, all pushing, shoving whilst attempting to shout above one another. That’s bad enough on its own but given the various respiratory ailments circulating at the moment, I certainly had no wish to contract something nasty.

This aside, I finished my beer, returned my glass to the bar, thanked the barmaid, and headed off back through the village, to the main road, and the bus stop. Next time read how luck was on my side that afternoon, how I avoided the "plague-carrying" school kids, and ended up in a pub that also had a dark beer on tap.