An early spring walk to the Plough, at Powder Mills

We've had a few bright and sunny days recently, a welcome change from the wind, rain, and grey skies. With Mrs. PBT's busy with VAT returns, Friday seemed perfect to go outside in search of a country pub. After finishing my chores, I put on my hiking boots for the first time in months and headed down into Tonbridge. I was making for the Plough, at Leigh, a classic country inn that dates back to the 16^th century. It’s a pub I have known well over the years, and one that is quite easy to reach on foot, from my house in Tonbridge.  

The route goes across the sports ground, under the railway, over a footbridge, and then through to an area known as the Powder Mills. This settlement is close to the neighbouring village of Leigh and was once home to a number of gunpowder mills. The nearby streams provided power for the water mills, used to grind the charcoal, sulphur and saltpetre components that when mixed and finely ground together, make up gunpowder. The isolated position of this enterprise ensured that should the worst happen collateral damage to nearby houses and farm buildings would be minimal.

Pharmaceutical giant, GSK (Glaxo-Smith-Kline) once operated a research plant near Powder Mills, but it has since closed, leaving no trace. Despite this, the area is still known as Powder Mills. The closure of local industries, including multinationals, is unfortunately quite common, especially given the shenanigans of big business, and the increasing value of land, especially here in the south east. It will come as no surprise then to learn that the former GSK site is now occupied by housing. This does have the benefit of an improved footpath, leading to the lane where the Plough is situated, but is of little comfort to former GSK employees. I have known several of these over the years, and a recently appointed new member of our management team, worked at the site.  

I had been planning to walk to the Plough for some time and had considered doing it earlier in the year, but the short daylight hours deterred me. Walking back in the dark wouldn't have been wise. Now, with sunset around 6pm, there was plenty of time for a walk in the sunshine. Most of the path is tarmac or compressed rock chippings, except for one particularly muddy section that ruined the appearance of my nice clean boots. It was an enjoyable walk that was mostly flat, except for a slight hill near the Powder Mills. It was just before there that I noticed some sheep, but no lambs yet. However, with many ewes looking quite “bulky”, I’m sure that lambing must be imminent.

It was a lovely day for a walk, with just the bird song and the occasional buzz of aircraft, way over head, to disturb the rural tranquillity. Actually, the birds chirping away added to the occasion and the unmistakable sound of a woodpecker at work, was a sure sign that spring is on its way. Another sign was the patch of snowdrops, as I approached the pub. Even better were the daffodils blooming under the sign near the car park entrance. Upon arriving at the pub's main entrance, I did a quick look around before heading to the bar. Nothing seemed to have changed from previous visits, which is always a good sign.

There were two cask ales available, one each from Tonbridge Brewery (Old Chestnut) and Pig & Porter (Got The Face On). Pig & Porter seem to offer a different beer every week, but according to Untappd, I had drank this one before. It might be heresy for me to say so, but Tonbridge beers often feel a bit dull to me, although there are one or two exceptions. I ordered a pint of Pig & Porter, and the barman suggested I sit at the large, empty table, constructed from ancient, polished wooden planks, since they weren't expecting any large parties that day. I inquired if there were any weddings planned, as the Plough often hosts receptions in the adjacent barn. He said not this week, but it wouldn’t be long before the wedding “season” kicks off in earnest.  The beer was a bit too citrusy for my taste but after my walk, was still pleasantly refreshing.

The pub itself has been extended gradually, over the centuries, but in a timeless and seamless manner, meaning the sprawling interior is divided into several interconnected areas, that integrate well with one another. The main bar is dominated by a doubled-sided open fire, situated close to the doorway that leads down to the garden, and also the Great Barn. As might be expected in a pub of such antiquity, there are plenty of ancient, low, sturdy beams, blackened by centuries of age. The clientele that day seemed mainly elderly diners, although there were a few locals and their dogs who had popped in for a quick one. The stone-flagged floors mean that muddy paws, as well as mud-encrusted hiking boots are not a problem.

I didn’t fancy another pint, as neither of the two beers impressed me, so I set off on the walk back to Tonbridge, with the intention of diverting onto the path leading to Haysden Country Park. From there I could cut through the late 19^th and early 20^th Century housing developments that have grown up on either side of the railway. It had been some time since I’d last walked that way, but I followed my nose and eventually ended up at the Nelson Arms, where I knew I’d find a beer more to my taste.

I arrived at the pub just after 3.30pm, in the midst of that afternoon lull that many pubs seem to experience. There were nine cask beers on offer, plus a similar number of craft keg ales. I fancied something low in strength, but high in flavour, and Kernel Mild fitted the bill nicely, coming in at 3.4%. I hadn’t been in the Nelson long, when Jon, from Hadlow came in. I hadn’t seen him for a long time, so he came over and joined me for a chat. Coincidentally, Jon used to work at the GSK Powder Mills site but now works for a company that manufactures gas detection equipment.

Even more of a coincidence was the fact I was looking for a specialist company in relation to our pressurised gas systems at work. It was talking shop on a grand scale, but Jon promised to forward some details over to me, providing proof, if it was needed, that it’s who you now, rather than not what you know, that can make all the difference in life. We both left it at just the one pint each. Jon was keen to get over to Fuggles, as they were still running their “Dark Life” event, although this February promotion was now starting to run down. The idea behind Dark Life was a month-long celebration of dark and delicious beers. Whilst I was tempted, I knew that I t wouldn’t just stay for one so, as the News of the World used to say, I made my excuses and left.

Portsmouth, but what about Southsea?

We now return to the continuation of the recent tour of Portsmouth alehouses undertaken by myself and two legendary pub men - Paul Mudge and Dave Southworth. At the end of the previous post, you left us shortly after 1pm, at Portsmouth City Wall disappointed at finding that the Sally Port Inn didn’t open for a further two hours. There was nothing for it but to head for the next pub on the list, that being the Pembroke. On the way, we stopped at the City Wall for a brief look at the sea and following a spot of research I'm pleased to report that the portal in the wall is in fact the Sally Port and is in fact the feature from which the aforementioned pub, gets its name.

We walked a little further along on the landward side of the wall before heading inland past the large and open green space, of Governor’s Green. The Pembroke is located on a street corner, overlooking the green, and dates back to 1711. The pub became the Pembroke in 1900, having previously been known as the Little Blue Line. Its large, single room reflects the street corner aspect and as might be expected, its L-shaped bar is decorated, with naval memorabilia. I didn’t notice, until leaving, the signs below the windows describing the Pembroke as “Old Portsmouth’s Proper Pub”, but that was exactly what it was, and immediately the three of us felt the same. Without doubt, this basic and down to earth drinking establishment was that increasingly rare species, a proper stand-up-to-drink boozer, where decent beer, lively conversation and good company take pride of place.

There was proper beer too, in the form of Draught Bass, served alongside London Pride and GK Abbot. All three of us opted for the Bass and a mighty fine pint it was too. Served in proper, straight-sided glasses, bearing the famous Bass Red Triangle trademark, it was the perfect and most appropriate beer for this honest, working man’s local. Apart from the beer, and sense of camaraderie, there was little in the way of other attractions. As far as food was concerned, I was pleased to notice, a stack of cling-filmed cheese rolls (cobs if you prefer) on sale at the bar, from one of those see-through plastic containers.

On leaving the Pembroke we caught a glimpse of Portsmouth Cathedral, in the next block. According to Google, the cathedral has been a place of worship since the 12^th Century, although I was unaware that Portsmouth had such a building. If you look at the photograph, you can see the upper section of the Spinnaker Tower, poking up from behind the neighbouring buildings, making a perfect contrast between the old and the new. As we made our way towards the third pub, Dave remarked on how clean and tidy, Portsmouth looked, when compared to other towns, both here and in the US. The absence of litter, as well as that scourge of modern society the street “artists” with their spray-cans, mindless tags and squiggles, was another bonus. It amazes me why “graffiti” is given an air of respectability, by well-meaning people who describe such vandalism as art.

We headed off in a roughly easterly direction, ending up in Southsea, although it isn’t abundantly clear where the latter begins and Portsmouth ends. We eventually reached the Barley Mow, an unusual looking pub with an extensive ground floor extension, capped with a flat roof.  A number of signs around the exterior advertising the presence of cask ales, live music an award-winning patio garden give a taste of what to expect, although it definitely wasn't garden weather! The first impression, upon walking inside, was a substantial bar area, with wood-panelled walls, bedecked with numerous nautically themed, photographs, plus various items of assorted Bric a Brac. Guarding the fireplace was the model of a rather fierce looking witch.

The Barley Mow had an interesting selection of beers to tempt us with, including the ubiquitous London Pride, Gales HSB, GK Abbot, plus Hogs Back England’s Glory. It must be several years since I last had a Hogs Back beer, but it was obviously well worth the wait, and made a pleasant change from the other beers that we’d seen on sale, in other pubs. We found a table and sat down to enjoy our drinks. The pub wasn't exactly heaving but from the posters on the wall, plus the Barley Mow’s website, we soon ascertained that this was a real community pub. Other clues came from things such as quiz nights, live music evenings (Sunday and Thursday), weekly meat raffles, plus summer barbecues.

The next pub was the Hole in the Wall, situated in the next street. Described on the pub’s website as a “proper old local with wooden beams and a snug,” the Hole was virtually empty when we arrived, although it didn’t take long for things to liven up. It offers an ever-changing selection of cask beers, but the one that caught my fancy was Cinder Toffee Stout, from the New Bristol Brewery – but just a half, mind you! The pub is long and quite narrow, which might explain why I didn’t take any photos of the interior, but like the nearby Barley Mow, it’s obviously a popular place. Virtually next door, is a former Gales pub, as evidenced by the attractive tile work, spelling out G. Gale & Co’s Noted Horndean Ales.

Our final pub of the day was the King Street Tavern, a Wadworth pub, with interesting interior, and a wonderfully ornate, tiled exterior, which is the work of Portsmouth pub architect A E Cogswell. He was commissioned in the late 1880’s, by the pub’s former owners, Brickwood's Brewery, to come up with this attractive frontage, which has certainly stood the test of time. Today, this lovely, Grade II listed Victorian street corner local, is a perfect example of traditional pub architecture. In 2006 the pub was acquired by Wiltshire brewer, Wadworth of Devises, and renamed the King Street Tavern – clue, the pub is situated in King Street.

The pub’s interior is more contemporary in style, with wood panelled walls, green-coloured tiling behind the bar, and strategically placed, soft-lighting. Wadworth 6X was the cask beer of choice for the three of us, but an array of taps, on the rear wall, dispense “craft” beer for those who like that sort of thing. Furnishings are a mixture of traditional tables and chairs, plus upholstered bar stools and high tables. The King Street Tavern was starting to fill up when we arrived, and we were lucky to get a seat. We were also fortunate to secure some food, from the selection of American-themed menu – smokehouse ribs, brisket, burgers etc. My “dirty mac & cheese” was the right choice for keeping me going, and for soaking up some of the excess beer.

We called it a day there and made our way through the fading light to the city’s other station – Portsmouth & Southsea. We boarded the London-bound train, which called at Chichester on its way to the capital. Paul and Dave left the train there, and I thanked them both for their company over the past couple of days and said how much I had enjoyed the time we'd spent together. My onward journey was delayed by a points failure, just outside Gatwick station, but I was still back in Tonbridge before 9pm.

So, an excellent couple of days on the south coast, with some fine company. Now the only question left to answer, is where to next?

 

Verdigris - casual, riverside dining

I appreciate that a number of readers were looking forward to the next installment of my recent visit to Portsmouth, but I’ve a busy day ahead tomorrow, so not for the first time this week, I’m crying off on completing the Pompey article. Tomorrow I’m off on a boy’s day out with son and heir, Matthew – destination to be revealed after the event, and also when I’ve had time to write up our trip. Needless to say, the place we’re going to has some classic pubs, along with plenty of history. It’s also a relatively short train away.

What I’m doing instead, is to offer you a brief write up about a Tonbridge establishment that in many ways defies categorisation. It isn’t a pub, although it once was, in fact it this attractive looking, later Victorian building was once one of the town’s premier inns. Today, the former Castle Hotel, is a restaurant, cum-cocktail bar, combined with a riverside terrace, overlooking the River Medway. Judging by the scaffolding outside, a substantial sum is being spent renovating this attractive looking building, and not before time.

The Castle Hotel was built in 1888, following the reconstruction, and widening of the Great Bridge, across the River Medway. The first public house on the site, was constructed in 1759, by the Medway Navigation Company, a powerful organisation that controlled traffic on the river, charging tolls for vessels passing through the various locks, and for loading and unloading cargoes, such as timber, iron ore as well as finished goods. To this end, there were once numerous wharf buildings lining both sides of the river, to the east of the Great Bridge.

The Castle Inn started life as a simple beer house for MNC employees working on the river. They were paid 12 shillings a week and allowed a free jug of beer every day, but following the construction of the new Great Bridge, the old inn was demolished, and the "Castle Inn" then became the "Castle Hotel." The pub was under threat of development in early 1960’s, but appears to have been reprieved, following a change of mind by the then owning brewery, Courage & Barclay.

Things the remained much the same, and when I first came to Tonbridge, initially to work, and then later to live, the Castle was a typical Courage tied house of the period, that had seen better days. Since then, the establishment has had a varied history and for a period was known as the Castle Gold Bar. It then became “Graze”, for a while, but despite its central location on the High Street, opposite the castle, it never seemed to achieve its true potential. This was surprising given its setting by the river, with its own terraced area.

I'm not sure when the former Castle became "Verdigris", a food-focused cocktail bar, but it has definitely brought something unique to Tonbridge. Enjoy casual riverside dining with views of Tonbridge Castle and relax as you watch the world go by. The bar specializes in fine wines and cocktails, so there's no cask ale. However, the Bavarian-brewed Hofmeister Helles lager on keg is well worth trying.

The building has had significant money spent on it and, as mentioned above, is currently surrounded by scaffolding for maintenance. In its later years, the Castle was notorious for the amount of pigeon droppings on the roof and first-floor windows, so it's good to see the building finally receiving the care it desperately requires. I visited one afternoon a couple of weeks ago to have a coffee and look around. The atmosphere was quiet and relaxing, with an unhurried feel about the place. I found a comfortable armchair and sat, watching the world go by.

I cannot comment on the food personally, but I have seen mixed reviews. Mrs. PBT and a few of her friends dined there some years ago, before the pandemic, and comments were made about the portion sizes, but that was over five years ago, and things may have changed since then. On the other hand, a friend from CAMRA praised Verdigris highly, remarking on the quality of the food on offer. Although it might not be my choice for a full meal, despite its fine dining reputation, in the summer, it seems like an excellent place to enjoy a relaxing pint of Hofmeister by the river, watching the boats go by. It would be an enjoyable way to spend a couple of hours on a summer afternoon.

That’s all for now folks, but I shall be catching up with readers, later in the week.

 

Portsmouth - first impressions, plus a classic pub with annoying opening times

We now come to the second day of my South Coast mini-break, and despite the late-night road works going on close to the Chichester Inn (installing a Dutch-style roundabout) I had a reasonable night’s sleep. I awoke at around 7am, feeling refreshed and raring to go. The outlook from my room, across a grey and rather dreary looking Chichester, was perhaps to be expected for mid-February, but the greyness was tempered by me looking forward to travelling across to Portsmouth later that morning.

There wasn't a huge rush to get up because Stafford Paul and I weren’t due to meetup with Dave and Joan until 11am. Before doing anything else, I made myself a cup of tea, something I do every morning, regardless of where I am in the world. After a quick shower, I packed up my trusty, small red rucksack – the one that has been my faithful companion on various hikes across southern England. I’d certainly travelled light this time around, taking inspiration, from Christine Taylor’s excellent, One Small Bag website. I then headed down to the bar ready for a full English breakfast, which I knew would set me up for a walk around Portsmouth and fortify me against the chilly February weather.  

Paul was already there, and getting tucked into his breakfast. He was looking pleased because the landlord had furnished him with a nice large pot of coffee. After checking my breakfast drink requirements, mine host brought me an equally large, and most welcome pot of tea. As is common in many B&B establishments, breakfast was cooked to order, and when it arrived the plate was nice and hot, which is always a good sign! What really made it special, was the quality of the ingredients, a point I emphasise when out to breakfast with son Matthew.  

Quality comes across in the taste of the ingredients, especially the bacon and the sausages – something you just don’t get with cheap, mass-catering packs from the Cash & Carry. Mrs PBT’s agrees with me on this one, in fact she is the one responsible in our house, for the maxim, "you get what you pay for", and if we could instill this one point into our son and heir, it will be an important life lesson learned. (Cost considerations, of course, play a part here, but if finances allow, it is usually worth splashing out a little bit extra, especially where quality is concerned!). Whether young master Matt takes this on board, remains to be seen, but if he does, then maybe he will thank us one day.

Moving swiftly on, Paul and I enjoyed a leisurely, and very satisfying top-notch breakfast, which was spun out by the plentiful supply of tea and coffee we’d be provided with. There was just the two of us left in the bar by the time we'd finished, and we spent the time chatting partly about pubs, but mainly about the Campaign for Real Ale. We touched on memorable events associated with the campaign, both  past as well as present,  including various AGM’s we'd attended, (Paul is way ahead of me there), and some of the much-missed characters who seemed to come and go. CAMRA certainly attracted plenty of them and I think we both surprised each other bringing up name after name, as well as the foibles associated with many of these people, and how they helped shape the campaign, particularly in the early years.

Once the drinks were finished and the conversation had slowed down, it was time to make a move. I collected my rucksack from the room, ready to check out, but Paul was due to stay another night at the Chichester Inn and would be travelling back to Stafford the following morning. I believe he was planning to stop off in London on the way, where he had a number of carefully selected "heritage pubs" to visit. 

After handing back my room key, and thanking the landlord for a most pleasant stay, I headed off into town, with Paul, towards the station. We hadn't gone far before bumping into Dave, who was heading towards us. He was alone, as Joan had decided to enjoy a quiet day back at their Airbnb, so the three of us continued on to the station. A little grumble here regarding the new style tickets recently introduced on Southern Trains, which sees thin, flimsy paper replacing the card ones, that have been in universal use across the rail network for decades. Promoted as "kinder on the environment", but rather too easy to lose, or mislay, as Dave discovered, although fortunately he found his ticket, in the end.  

The train journey of just over half an hour, took us through the relatively flat coastal area of West Sussex, and into Hampshire. As a bonus the sun was peeping out from behind the clouds, which was the first time I’d seen it for several weeks. There was still a cold wind blowing, as we discovered when we alighted from the train at Portsmouth Harbour, but spirits were running high, and we were looking forward to getting to sampling a few of Portsmouth’s finest public houses. I'd been lazy again and had left the planning of the trip to Paul and Dave, and they came up with a good selection. The plan was to work our way from the harbour station and then make our way back slowly towards Portsmouth & Southsea - the other main rail station in the city. On the way we would be calling in at the pubs selected by the two pub men.

As mentioned in the previous post, I’d been to Portsmouth once before, but that was almost 60 years previously. Consequently, there was nothing of the city that I recognised, and that includes the iconic harbour – spiritual home of the Royal Navy. As we exited the harbour station, we could see the sea with the recently restored, Victorian warship, HMS Warrior taking pride of place. Launched in 1860, HMS Warrior was the world's first iron-hulled warship, and was larger, faster, and more heavily armoured than any ship before her. Her impressive size and firepower made her a symbol of British naval supremacy. We couldn’t see Portsmouth’s most famous preserved ship, HMS Victory because that is berthed in a dry dock, on the other side of the National Museum of the Royal Navy. The Victory is undergoing an extensive renovation so we wouldn’t have been able to have visited it, anyway. Nelson’s flagship is probably the only thing that I do remember from that 1969 visit.

As far as pubs were concerned, we were aiming for a Fuller's pub situated at Camber Dock, on the opposite quayside to the Isle of Wight car ferry terminal. It took a bit of finding, and we had to double back on ourselves at one point, but the Bridge Tavern was well worth the effort. The pub overlooks the water, and there were several boats moored up next to the quayside. Some were so close that, if you wanted, you could literally jump on board. Dave found this area particularly interesting given his experiences, several decades ago, of working on a lobster fishing boat, operating out a Maine port – possibly Portland.

We were not disappointed with the Bridge Tavern, where the nautical theme extended into the pub’s interior. There was an impressive bar counter, set towards rear of the building and a number of alcoves leading off either side. We sat, close to the window, in one of these, from where we had an excellent view of the nautical scene outside stop. I opted for a pint of Gale’s Seafarers, a beer we don't often see in Kent, but HSB was also available, alongside the ubiquitous London Pride – and before RM asks the question, I have no idea as to whether the Pride was “drinking well.”

We had an interesting chat, which included quizzing Dave about his time spent lobster fishing, before deciding to move on to the next pub. This was supposed to be the Sally Port Inn, a famous Portsmouth pub created in 1947 from a war damaged residence, dating back to the 1600's. Situated just a few yards from the seawall, in the midst of Old Portsmouth's High Street, the pub takes its name from the gate in the fortified section of the seawall, which is known as the “sally port”. There was some uncertainty regarding the pub’s opening times, but a visit to the Sally Port confirmed this was 3pm, as listed in What Pub. 

 

This was a shame, as from the outside, at least, the pub looked well worth visiting, but for those interested in the cold war, tales of espionage and the charismatic naval diver, Commander Buster Crabb RN, there’s a fascinating piece about Cdr. Crabb, who disappeared after embarking on a secret mission to investigate a Soviet warship, as part of a unauthorised spying exercise. Crabb had spent the night, prior to his disappearance, at the Sally Port. So, it was best foot forward and off to the next pub. 

 

Our route took us down to the water's edge, just below the sea defences of Portsmouth City Wall, and whilst I didn’t think to take a photo, right by the seawall, and adjacent to the Falklands Campaign Memorial, here was a small portal in the stonework, which led onto a paved walkway, overlooking the sea. Could this have been the Sally Port? (Yes, it was!) The sea looked rather choppy, and undoubtedly very cold, but there were a couple of hardy souls sea fishing off the break water. This was a hobby I dabbled in during my youth, and whilst never really catching much, it was an activity I enjoyed during my early teenage years, and it is one Matthew and I have had several attempts at, in more recent times.  You have to get used to being cold. Not just cold, but bl**dy cold!!

Well with four more pubs to write about, it make sense to draw the narrative to a close here, and continue next time, as I describe the remaining quartet of Portsmouth pubs, each with their own charm and unique character.