Lewes on a mission

 

Friday’s trip to the charming Sussex town of Lewes, saw me notching up a further four pubs, taking my total for the first month of the year to 20. If I can keep this rate up over the next 11 months, then I should quite easily pass last year’s total of 106 different hostelries. Despite this flying start, I’m not really in the numbers game, as if I was, then I’m sure I could squeezed in a few more pubs. 

My reasons for travelling to Lewes were two-fold, and despite my protestations of innocence, Mrs PBT’s quite easily saw through my non-too cunning plan. That plan was to return  twenty or so, empty beer bottles to that jewel in the brewing crown, Harvey’s of Lewes. These bottles had accumulated over the past 18 months or, and were taking up space in the garden shed, Admittedly, not a massive amount of space, but I still wanted to return them to the brewery and do my bit for the environment. More to the point, a trip down to Harvey’s would provide the perfect opportunity to visit a few of Lewes’s charming pubs, as well as being an enjoyable day out, with a welcome change of scenery.

With three shopping bags full of these rather sturdy returnable bottles, waiting by the back door, it was just a matter of time before the lady of the house noticed them. “You’re not going to lug all those bottles down to the station?” she asked. “Why not”, I replied, but then, after thinking about it some more, I had to agree that my wife was right (she quite often is!) She suggested waiting, until we were going down that way, by car, but if I was to agree with that, the reasoning behind my trip to the town, would be lost. I compromised, by taking just two bags, which was the far more sensible approach, although I didn’t tell her, so!

I set off for the station, with the intention of taking the 10am train, but as with my trip to Hastings, a couple of weeks earlier, it was a question of history being doomed to repeat itself. I had allowed sufficient time for the walk, and for purchasing my ticket, but what I hadn’t allowed for was being caught by a former neighbour, who ambushed me as I strolled passed the local newsagents. My protestations about not stopping, as I had a train to catch, seemed to fall on deaf ears, and by the time I’d managed to extricate myself, I was in serious danger of missing my train. (What is it with well-meaning neighbours, with far too much time on their hands?

As things turned out, I missed the Redhill train by the same margin as a couple of weeks ago, but only because the three-coach Southern train was parked at the far end of platform one, due to a twelve coach South-Eastern service, seemingly abandoned, and taking up most of the available space. I heard the departure announcement, and tried legging it along the platform, but it wasn't easy with two bags of bottles hampering my efforts to put a spurt on. Unfortunately, the Southern driver ignored my arm waving and impassioned pleas for him to wait, and the train departed dead on the dot of 10am.

I seemed doomed, and what was worse was the alternative option of the Hastings train, was just pulling in on platform 3. This meant a hurried sprint, back along platform 1, up the stairs and then back down. Fortunately, I managed to hop on in time, although it was a close-run thing. Who says this pub-ticking lark doesn’t keep you fit? So, once again it was a journey along the 1066 Line, if the successors to British Rail still call it that, with a change of train, and platform at St Leonards. This is a slightly strange journey, because for a while the route follows the coast, and the pebble beaches of Bexhill and Pevensey, before heading into Eastbourne, where the imposing heights of the South Downs rise ominously to the left of one’s vision. The service then reverses back out of Eastbourne, before heading off in a north-westerly direction towards Polegate and Lewes.

This visit to the Sussex County Town, was going to be different, because I would be avoiding the familiar honeypots of the Gardeners, the Lewes Arms, the John Harvey Tavern and several other hostelries, for a selection of the lesser visited, but no less worthy of Lewes’s pubs, places that I either hadn’t visited before – quite difficult after working in the town, for three years, during the early 90’s, establishments I hadn’t been back to, since that time. But first there was the question of those empty beer bottles to deal with.

I arrived in Lewes, shortly before
midday, relieved to have left the rather crowded train behind me. I walked up, across the bridge towards the Landsdown Arms, a corner pub that also titles itself as Platform 6, due to its proximity to the rail station. Continuing along Landsdown Place, I eventually reached the area of town known as Friars’ Walk. On the way, I couldn’t help but notice the independent shops and businesses whose number increased, the closer to the town centre that I reached. Over several visits to Lewes, during recent years, I’ve come away with the impression that the town has a real independent streak, running through its heart, and by the later comment I feel that nonconformity is the name of the game, but without any of the religious baggage associated with that term.

I’m reminded of several other UK towns that have a similar feel to them, places such as Hebden Bridge, and Totness, even though it is many years since I last visited either settlement – note to self, I must rectify those anomalies, sooner rather than later. However, it was whilst sitting in  a pub, in the Cliffe area of Lewes that I was reminded of the “free spirit” vibe associated in the town that manifests itself, every November 5^th that encapsulates the town, even if the events commemorated on that day do have a religious significance – “We won’t be druv,” as the local legend has it!

Arriving at Harvey’s attractive and well-stocked brewery shop, the first thing I did was to hand over my stash of bottles, which was gratefully received by the counter staff. Whilst there, I couldn’t resist picking up a couple of new Harvey’s beers, although as they were both in canned form, they wouldn’t need returning to Lewes, to be recycled. And then for the pubs – four of them, and each with their own individual stories to tell. As a clue, all but the final one were Harvey’s tied houses, and the one that wasn’t, forms the lone outpost of a brewery a couple of counties to the west, of Sussex.

I’m afraid their story will have to wait until next time, in order to do them justice, but what I will mention instead is that after the dramas of missed connections, and which route to opt for, my homeward journey passed surprisingly smoothly, even if it did involve an additional change of train. After being advised by booking office staff, at Lewes station, I joined the 15:35 service to London Victoria. With no connection to Redhill, I had to hop off at Gatwick and join a Thameslink train. Arriving at Redhill, the conveniently timed service to Tonbridge was waiting to depart from the adjacent platform, enabling me to make a virtually seamless connection. Now, if only my outward journey had been that simple!