An afternoon in Hastings, with a few good pub memories along the way

Crown

Last Saturday, I took a train down to Hastings. It had been quite a few years since I last visited this seaside town, although my decision to travel there was the result of that old, weekend favourite, “engineering works”. My original intention had been to travel to Lewes, as I had several bags of reusable bottles to return to the Harvey’s Brewery Shop. Remarkably, Harvey’s are one of the few UK brewers that still supply beer in returnable bottles—a practice that was once universal in the brewing industry. The brewery has refined its approach, opting for 500-millilitre metric bottles rather than the traditional half-pint or one-pint sizes. 

The bottles themselves are sturdy and purposely designed to withstand the rigours of numerous trips between the brewery and its pubs, and that latter category includes, or course, private individuals like me. For their part, Harvey’s claim it is beneficial for returned bottles to be cleaned and refilled for as long as is practically possible. For my part I feel a sense of responsibility in returning these items, knowing I am contributing to environmental sustainability. An additional reason for doing so is that a visit to Lewes provides me with an excuse to explore this charming old town, and its equally attractive pubs

The reason for my change of mind was the reduction in the normal train service, due to the aforementioned engineering works. There are normally, two trains an hour between Tonbridge and Lewes, that take advantage of the routes available. Both options involve a change of trains, either at St Leonard's, if one follows the Tonbridge-Hastings route, or Redhill, if one takes the cross-country option between Tonbridge and the latter mainline station. Both routes take a similar amount of time, with both charged at the same rate, providing flexibility to travellers journeying from Tonbridge.

Given the fact I was on a relatively tight time schedule, it made sense to go for the half hourly Hastings option, because if I just missed a train (which I actually did) I wouldn't have too long to wait for the following one. And why did I narrowly miss my intended train? I was ambushed by my next-door neighbour, whilst doing my good deed for the day, which was putting the wheelie-bins back after they’d just been collected. Terry has lived in the house next to us, for an even longer period than we have in ours, and whilst he’s a pleasant enough chap, he can talk for England and probably Scotland as well. But when you’re in a hurry he is the last person, you want to get caught with.

Amongst other things, he told me he was getting over the flu, or whatever bug has been doing the rounds recently. That was my cue to suggest he’d better get back in the warm, as well as the signal for me to disappear. I didn't take the quickest route to the station because I wanted to see what progress, if any, had been made on the former Somerhill pub in Pembury Road. This is the pub I mentioned before Christmas, now undergoing extensive renovations. After a decent exterior paint job, the top floor windows are being refurbished or replaced, with similar improvements on the ground floor. The rather scruffy area, at the front of the building is being upgraded to an attractive hard-standing—not likely for parking given the small triangular space, but probably to enhance the pub’s appearance.

I continued down the hill towards the station, and although the sun was shining and the sky bright and free from cloud, there was a bitterly cold wind blowing. Despite increasing my speed, I still missed the train, but only by about 20 seconds. Because after purchasing my ticket, passing through the barrier, and reaching the top of the stairs down to the platform, I witnessed my intended train pulling away. Thanks, neighbour, but with 30 minutes until the next service, I needed somewhere warm to wait in, and I also wanted coffee.

The coffee and refreshment room on the down platform, never reopened after the pandemic, so I headed back up the stairs to FCB, an independently owned coffee shop on the upper station concourse. I asked the ticket collector that having just come through the barrier, and missed my train, could I go back through and grab a coffee. No problem, mate, was the reply, so I dived into FCB and ordered a flat white. There’s a small area inside the shop, where customers can stay and consume their coffee and pastries, although after all that Christmas food, there were none of the latter for me. It was also warm inside FCB, and far more pleasant than waiting on the platform, although to be fair to South Eastern, there is a heated, waiting room where passengers can escape from the cold.

It's a long time since I travelled all the way to the coast on the Hastings line, although I have made a few visits to Robertsbridge, and Bexhill in recent years. With the sun shining, it was a pleasant journey, and on the way down I paused to reflect on some of the pubs that have been lost, along the length of the line. The Rock Robin Inn, directly opposite Wadhurst station was one such establishment, replaced now by some blocks of flats. Still standing, although unfortunately closed are the Bridge Inn, a smashing little pub, next to Stonegate station, whilst at Etchingham – the next former pub, is the De Etchingham Arms, visible from the railway and less than 10 minutes’ walk from the station. This attractive Victorian era pub, situated on the village High Street, was converted to a private residence in 1998.

The rest of the journey was uneventful, although the train was a little late in arriving at Hastings. This was annoying because time was at a premium, and I’d promised Mrs PBT’s that I wouldn’t be too late back. I certainly would be back in time for dinner or tea, as we like to call our evening meal. 

Alighting at Hastings station I realised there was a bus turn around outside the concourse, plus a selection of stops. The idea struck me that getting a bus along the sea front would not only allow a bit more drinking time at the other end but would also save a cold walk along the sea front by getting me away from the bitingly cold wind. In truth, conditions seemed a little warmer than back in Tonbridge, but it’s all relative, and when the Rye-bound, No.100 bus turned up, I was more than happy to hop on board and enjoy the ride.

The bus dropped me at the area known as the Stade, which is opposite those tall wooden buildings, formerly used for the drying of fishing nets. I continued a little further along the sea front, towards the start of Hastings Old Town. I had identified four pubs to try and whilst I knew that I’d been in at least two of them, I wasn’t quite sure about the other two. My first port of call was the Dolphin Inn, a traditional, brick-built, town pub, dating from the 18^th century, and set slightly above pavement level, in the quaintly named Rock-A-Nore-Road.

There are views out towards the seafront, where a few hardy souls were sitting out at the tables in front of the pub. Unless you are a smoker, this is more of a summer attraction. The Dolphin has been in the same family for twenty years and has well-established links with the local fishing community. The place was quite busy, although not absolutely rammed, which meant there were a few vacant tables. I found one to the left of the serving area, which afforded a good view of what was going on in that half of the pub. I plonked myself down, but not before ordering a beer.

The choice was Young’s London Special or Three Acre Brewery Extra Pale. I chose the latter, especially as Young’s beers are a shadow of their former selves, and nothing like the fine, traditional beers that came out of the Ram Brewery, in Wandsworth.  The 4.5% Three Acre beer was very good, though, so I obviously made the right choice. As for the Dolphin, it is definitely an old-school pub, with a few modern twists. I'm not sure whether I've been there before, but if I had to guess, I’d say that I hadn't.

I had definitely been in the next pub, even though I’d forgotten its name in the interim. The Crown is an independent family run free house, in the heart of Hastings Old Town at the foot of the clifftop country park and just a short distance from the beach. It was tastefully refurbished by its current owners, back in 2014, and its wooden floor, hand-made tables and chairs help to creating a relaxed atmosphere. It is a relatively small building, and its popularity means that space is often at a premium at peak times, when it can get very busy.

The pub was certainly heaving when I arrived, which meant I struggled to find space at the bar. I squeezed myself in amongst the drinkers at the bar and ordered a pint of Best Bitter from local brewery, Romney Marsh. 

Their other offering was a golden ale, a style of beer I am not particularly fond of, but I was more than content with the best. Romney Marsh beers crop up in various parts of this area of Kent and East Sussex, with one particular favourite outlet being the Pilot, at Dungeness, a pub famed for its legendary fish and chips.

The food I saw being brought out at the Crown looked equally appetising, but given the number of people inside, I had visions of a lengthy wait, even if I managed to find a place to sit and eat at. I also knew that Eileen would be knocking up a tasty meal for when I got home, so dining at the Crown was a definite no-no, and it was time to move on. I didn’t have to walk far as the Cinque Ports Arms was also in All Saints Street. Dating from 1642, this small pub in the middle of the Old Town, blends in well with surrounding buildings, and is a magnet for tourists and locals alike. The inside has timbered panel walls and pictures of local events. The pub is said to have a sun trap garden at the rear, although this wasn’t really of interest on a freezing cold, mid-January afternoon.

I got the impression that despite its obvious, tourist appeal, the Cinque Ports is very much a locals pub, as evidenced by its 5pm weekday opening time. This is extended at weekends, to midday. Harvey’s Sussex Best and Pells Pale were the cask offerings. I opted for the latter – a relatively new brew from Harvey’s, described by the brewery as “South Downs Sussex spring water, infused with zesty New Zealand and UK Hops”. Despite its relatively low strength of 3.7%, this pale ale is available in both cask and keg forms, all the year round.

One more pub to go now, and not only is it a good one, it’s an establishment that is pretty much mandatory on any visit to Hastings. Situated in the Old Town High Street and navigated to via a couple of narrow side streets, is the First In – Last Out, universally known as the "FILO". This cosy free house is said to date back to the 1500’s and has been an inn since 1896. Family owned since 1988, the FILO began brewing its own beer soon after, initially in the pub itself, but now in a separate facility, a few hundred yards away.

The FILO remains as an attractive and atmospheric single bar pub, which is dominated by a central open fire. The latter proved most welcome last Saturday, as did the FILO’s own beers. There were four on tap, as shown by the photo of the pump clips. With outside temperatures close to freezing it is perhaps no surprise that I should have chosen the 4.6% Cardinal Sussex Porter. I have enjoyed some of the FILO’s other home-brewed beers, during past visits but despite the pub’s reputation for good food, I still haven’t eaten there.

With time marching on, it was time to make my way back to the station, but not before treating myself to a “cone” full of freshly fried chips – courtesy of one of the many fish and chip shops along the seafront. Smothered in salt and vinegar, I scoffed them down greedily as I walked back to the station, enjoying the taste and the mouthfeel of this most traditional seaside snack. With the cold wind on my face, and combination of sea air, fish and chips, plus some fine, unspoiled pubs to reflect on, it was a great time to be alive!