Český Krumlov - UNESCO World Heritage Site

I’m feeling a little short of inspiration at the moment, especially when it comes to topics, events or places to write about, so instead, I’ve decided to take a look back at a few of the amazing places I have visited over the years. First up is the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Český Krumlov, situated in the far south of the Czech Republic. This picturesque city was a place I’d wanted to visit for a long time, but by the time the right opportunity arose, it had become the number two tourist attraction in the country, after Prague.

The story begins back in the early part of the twenty-first century when I picked up a copy of the Good Beer Guide to Prague and the Czech Republic. Written by Graham Lees, who was one of the four founding members of the Campaign for Real Ale, the publication is very much in the same vein as Lee’s earlier Good Beer Guide to Munich and Bavaria. I bought my copy of Graham’s Czech guide at the London Drinker Beer Festival; an event that until a few years ago was held at the Camden Centre, virtually opposite St Pancras station. That particular year the crowds seemed too much, so I decided to leave early and escape to somewhere less busy and with far fewer people.

My choice of the Spaniard’s Inn, on the edge of Hampstead Heath, might seem a little strange at first, but I had been reading Charles Dickens’s classic The Pickwick Papers and this atmospheric old coaching inn featured in a particular episode of the book. Being in possession of an all-zones London Travel Card, a journey to Hampstead would cost me nothing, apart from my time.

So, after taking the underground to Hampstead, followed by a brisk walk across the Heath, I found myself in the relative tranquillity of the Spaniards. After purchasing a pint, I found a secluded corner to sit in and took the opportunity to get stuck into my Czech Beer Guide. The book was published at a time when the Czech beer scene was in a state of flux, following the changes that happened after the fall of communism and the rush to embrace a free-market economy. The changes that occurred are too numerous and too complex to discuss here, but on a more general note one particular travel reference really caught my eye.

The guide author was describing a small town in Southern Bohemia called Český Krumlov, saying that no visitor could fail to be awestruck by the time-warp medieval beauty of this settlement constructed in a tight loop of the Vlatava River. He went on to say that it was as though some witch had cast a spell over the entire town, leaving it preserved, like Sleeping Beauty adrift from the modern world. For various reasons I had to wait until 2015 to make that trip and by then, as mentioned above, Český Krumlov had soared in popularity amongst tourists, and was now second to Prague as the “must visit” location in the Czech Republic. The concern was that with the granting of UNESCO world heritage status. more and more tourists would discover the town, thereby breaking the spell that had kept the town in a state of preservation, free from the embellishments of the late 20th Century. Wow! This was a place I needed to visit and visit soon.

Son Matthew and I took an eight-day break in early October of that year, spending four days in Prague before travelling, by coach to Český Krumlov, where we spent the second half of our trip. Our stay was characterised by sunny days, but increasingly cold nights. Autumn was definitely a week or two ahead of the UK, with some spectacular seasonal colours from the trees. Snow was forecast for the weekend after our visit but I’m sure that’s probably not that unusual for a mountainous region of central Europe.

Our Student Agency coach dropped us off at Český Krumlov bus station mid-afternoon, and after getting a bit disoriented, we managed to locate our accommodation, Penzion Kriz at the edge of town. After checking in, we took a walk down into the centre of this charming old town, with its well-preserved medieval buildings. Chief of these was the imposing castle which looms over Český Krumlov, virtually dominating the town centre. 

It is the second largest castle in the Czech Republic, after Prague and is well worth a few hours exploration. The views from the castle walls out over the town alone, more than repay the admission charge, although you will have to dodge the hordes of eager tourists – mainly Chinese and American. Apart from a brief look around the courtyard, below the castle entrance, we left our main visit until the following day and set off to find a place to eat. We found this in the form of an old medieval tavern, called U Dwau Maryi, located down a narrow alley. Here we sat out, under cover (it was raining slightly), on a heated terrace, overlooking the Vlatava River. A meal of chicken and smoked meat pieces, with potatoes and salad, washed down with several glasses of locally brewed Eggenberg beer (both pale and dark), left us both feeling satisfied and full, and was a good way to round off our first evening in Český Krumlov. We wandered back to the Penzion and turned in for the night.

Now I’m not going to describe every meal we enjoyed during our stay, nor list every pub we visited, but apart from the medieval tavern described earlier, the large Bohemian-style beer hall attached to the Eggenberg Brewery was a good place to spend the evening. Its location, across the river and away from the town centre, did mean it was mercifully free of tourists. It is worth noting that Český Krumlov is quite a compact town that is easily covered on foot in a day. This does mean that a stay of two or three days is probably sufficient to fully explore the town and experience all it has to offer. Matthew, who was in his early twenties at the time, was a trifle bored by the end of our four day stay, as he was missing the shops and other bright-light attractions associated with larger towns and cities.

Despite these comments, the town did not disappoint, and I would urge anyone who appreciates great architecture in a spectacular setting to add a visit to Český Krumlov to their bucket list. The easiest and quickest way to reach the town is to follow our example and take the comfortable Student Agency coach. Services depart from Prague Florenc bus station, but there are also connections to and from Prague airport. Tickets, which are very reasonably priced, can be purchased in advance online, or from the driver. Journey times are just over two hours.

Is Untappd to blame?

Last Saturday afternoon, I visited a well-known local free house. The pub was quiet, although in mitigation it was the last weekend of the summer holidays, and the prelude to “back to school”, always a stressful time for parents with school age kids, teachers, and anyone else associated with the world of education. For those of us still gainfully employed, it would also mean that the stress-free and relaxed drive into work would be replaced by drivers jockeying for position at traffic lights and others pulling onto roundabouts without indicating. Worse still would be the school kids dashing out across the road, without looking, rather than walking the short distance along to a proper, traffic-light controlled, crossing.

Yes, welcome to the return of the dreaded "school run", where everyone’s in a tearing hurry, because they overslept, or their child was playing up. Fortunately, I only catch the morning rush hour, as my evening drive home takes place an hour or so after the afternoon session concludes. In addition, I only have three days of busy roads, and stressed-out drivers to contend with, so let’s return to the quiet pub I was referring to at the beginning.

It's a pub that offers a diverse range of unusual cask ales, sourced from a variety of different brewers, and sold at very reasonable prices. There is also an interesting range of keg beers, for those who prefer a bit more fizz with their beers. The pub has won numerous awards, mainly, but not exclusively, from CAMRA, and attracts beer connoisseurs from across a wide area. The pub has a lot going for it, but for some reason I seem to have been avoiding it, either sub-consciously, or possibly even consciously. After a lot of soul-searching, I realised that my main reason for swerving this otherwise excellent pub, is there is too much choice in respect of its beer range.

It’s that old paradox of more equalling less, and with such an extensive range of cask beers on offer, it was becoming increasingly difficult to select one I could enjoy, for its own sake, rather than being influenced by the novelty factor. It seemed that every time I reviewed the pub’s online beer list, I encountered numerous unfamiliar beers and also breweries. I used to pride myself on my knowledge of the UK’s breweries, but this is no longer the case due, to the massive increase in the number of new entrants to the scene, especially over the past couple of decades.

Then there’s the beers themselves, and with many produced by a “man in a shed” or a “woman in a lock-up” set up, the end result is often all too predictable. Many of these “home-brew on steroids” offerings can be unbalanced at best and of dubious quality, at worst, relying on an unusual name, or a colourful pump clip to catch the interest of the consumer. I realise this opinion might be at odds with that offered by CAMRA, but it’s one I stand by. Perhaps I am becoming more particular with age, (some would say, overtly fussy), but many newer breweries seem to be experimenting with styles, often at the expense of quality.

I appreciate that introducing new options can be a valuable marketing tool, for the brewery concerned, and can also attract trade for those pubs that like to offer something different. But when the different and the new start elbowing more established and well-liked brands off the bar, then it can be a step too far. Moreover, when pubs start overreaching themselves by featuring, exclusive, rare, or obscure beers, to the detriment of established and better-known offerings, then it’s definitely a step too far.

I’m going to leave it there for the moment, even though such pubs are a paradise for devotees of the beer ticking phenomenon that is Untappd. According to the Untappd app on my phone, I’ve been on the platform since June 2013, but despite this I’m still hovering below the magic 1,000 unique beers sampled – or ticked! The topic of Untappd merits its own dedicated blog post, which I intend to publish once my total reaches the milestone 1,000 ticks, or should that be “taps”?

Without saying too much about my Untappd experiences, I can reveal that I have sampled well over a thousand different beers, although not all of them were “tapped” at the time. There are a number of reasons for this, ranging from those I sampled before Untappd appeared on the scene, to the many where, for a variety of reasons, I was unable to score them. This was particularly the case in the early days when, unless I was able to establish a Wi-Fi connection, for my phone, I was unable to tick the beer(s) in real time. During those times, I visited quite a few different destinations, including Germany, Belgium, the Czech Republic, Austria and the USA. The phone package I had at the time, came with a very limited data allowance, which was soon eaten up, after just a few attempts at posting.

I must have sampled dozens of beers in those countries, but apart from photos, the odd paper list, plus my memory, of course, it would be extremely difficult to “tap” those beers retrospectively, even if the “rules” surrounding Untappd, allow such a thing.  It’s frustrating though, because many of those overseas ticks, were beers that were not only hard to come by at the time, but also beverages that I am unlikely to encounter again – even if it was possible to go back in time and retrace my footsteps.

 

 

A couple more books at bedtime

This post is the fourth in a rather drawn-out series of the same name, and like its predecessors looks back at some of the books I’ve read over the last year or so. There’s much to be said about “a book at bedtime,” especially as one can lose oneself in another word, before drifting off into a restful sleep. Climbing into bed, and snuggling down under the covers, with just enough room to hold and read a book, is certainly a good way to relax and to forget about the trials and tribulations of the day just passed.

My most recent “Book at Bedtime” post appeared back in February 2024,  and covered one lengthy work of fiction - "Tom Jones", by Henry Fielding, plus one, non-fiction volume entitled, the "English Pub". Paul Jennings's history of the English pub is essential reading for all those who enjoy visiting and spending time in, what is definitely the UK's gift to the civilised world. Following that I polished off "Cask", Des de Moor's equally definitive book on cask beer, yet another gift from Britain, even though most of the world has turned it back on this uniquely British way of brewing, keeping and serving,beer. Less controversial, but no less a joy to read, is Adrian Tierney Jones's "A Pub For All Seasons".   

 Back to the present, and the book I’m reading at the moment, is book five of a six-book series, and I'm getting close to finishing that particular volume. What I'm about to write concerns a common thread, that runs between the books of what began as a three-volume series, and one that I first became acquainted with, 20 or so years ago. 

I expect that some of you will have heard of the “His Dark Materials” series, written by acclaimed fantasy author, Philip Pullman. It was a customer at my old off-licence, who first made me aware of this trilogy, and sometime after our conversation about this connected set of novels, I came across the first book in the series, in a charity shop. Tonbridge’s numerous second-hand shops were a rich source of both novels and CD’s, and back in those straitened times, when money was rather "tight", and provided some welcome relief to being “wedded” to my workplace.

“Northern Lights” was the title of the first book in the “His Dark Materials” series, and as my customer friend had hinted, it proved a gripping read. My weekly forays into the world of charity shops, eventually unearthed the sequels – “The Subtle Knife”, and “The Amber Spyglass”, but I’ve a feeling that I didn’t finish the series until I was gainfully employed in my current job. I found all three novels enthralling, with their intricate plot-lines, set against a background of familiar and not so familiar settings. They combine elements of adventure, fantasy which allow the reader to question the nature of authority and the universe itself.

The most interesting aspect is that whilst the stories are set in Oxford (the familiar), it is an Oxford that exists in a parallel universe, with subtle differences to our own world. In Phillip Pulman’s alternative Oxford (and other familiar places), people have animal companions called daemons which, in effect, are physical manifestations of a person’s soul. This means they can communicate with their human “owners”. The principle characters are Lyra and Will, both in their early teens, but belonging to different universes. Lyra inhabits the slightly strange, alternative Oxford, whereas Will’s Oxford belongs very much in our own, early 21^st century Britain. The way their paths first cross, and their lives become intertwined, forms the background to the trilogy, although there are also some fascinating diversions.

Following the success of “His Dark Materials”, Pullman started writing a follow-on series, entitled "The Book of Dust”. It is a sequel with a difference, because the first novel, “La Belle Sauvage”, serves as the prequel to the original trilogy, whilst the second book, “The Secret Commonwealth”, picks up the story, years later, when Lyra, who is now a young adult, embarks on a perilous journey of her own, traveling across Europe in search of her estranged daemon, Pantalaimon. Hot on her heels are agents of the Magisterium, the sinister and all-powerful religious body, that was first encountered in “Northern Lights”. This is the 686-page book I am reading at the moment, and whilst I’m nearing the end, it’s the type of novel you don’t want to finish.

All is not lost though, because the “Rose Field”, the final novel in this particular trilogy, is due for publication in the autumn (23^rd October). Pullman, who is 78, is reported as being "relieved" to have "come out of the end alive and able to see this final part of his six-book series, being made into a book and published". I can’t wait to purchase a copy, and get stuck into the novel.

Footnote: just to confuse matters, the American publishers of the first three books, decided to rename "Northern Lights" as the "Golden Compass". The latter happened to be Pullman's original title for the work, so perhaps we can excuse them, in this instance.

The "Dog Days" of summer are over

Following a record-breaking four heat waves, the summer of 2025 appears to have suddenly come to an end. Looking out at the weather this morning, the sun is shining, after some much-needed overnight rain, although there has been a noticeable decrease in temperature. While it may be premature to describe the air as chilly, the period of warmer weather does seem to have finally concluded. Accordingly, the title "The Dog Days of Summer are Over," reflects this shift, and with 

Florence & The Machine's bizarre music video as a backdrop, it is appropriate to reflect on this record-breaking summer and highlight some of its more significant moments.

It is increasingly apparent that this record-breaking summer has accelerated the seasonal cycle – a phenomenon I first noticed a few weeks ago, during one of my regular lunchtime walks. I noticed then that many of the blackberries in the hedgerows were already ripe and ready for picking, several weeks earlier than usual. Of more concern though was the observation that many of the trees were showing premature browning of their leaves, which appears to be a stress response, most likely associated with conserving water. 

Although the warm weather may well benefit fruit crops by speeding their ripening, the prolonged lack of rainfall, over recent months, will almost certainly reduce overall yields come harvest time, especially for staples such as wheat, barley, and oats. With insufficient rainfall, the grains will not have had sufficient moisture to swell to the correct size. On my return drive this morning, after dropping off Mrs PBT’s at her workplace, I was struck by a distinct sense of the season drawing to an early close, as I drove along the farm track leading back to the main road.

Autumn has always been one of my favourite times of year, and I expect this year will be no exception, but seeing ripened fruit and already harvested fields, whilst visually appealing, gives rise to apprehension about the possibility of the early onset of winter. As always, the precise nature of the coming winter remains uncertain, but mother nature may well still have a surprise up her sleeve. Last year’s winter saw very little frost, which was not necessarily a bad thing for those who commute early in the morning, where icy road conditions can be disruptive, and often dangerous.

In some ways, experiencing a harsh
winter, with abundant snowfall and freezing temperatures, would be a re-assuring sign of a return to normality, as the mild winters of recent years, have meant we have hardly used our log burner. I purchased it originally as a “back-up” source of heat, should the boiler break down, but it does have other uses, and there is something warm, comforting, and almost mesmerizing about a roaring log fire in winter. Writing these lines, has reminded me of the need to get the chimney swept, before the real onset of winter. I did say that the stove hasn’t been used much, but despite this it is important to ensure there are no obstructions, such as bird nests, blocking the flue. We have a substantial supply of well-seasoned logs, that feel light and able to burn without cracking or spitting. They should provide ample warmth, although I normally leave the lighting and stoking of the stove to Mrs PBT’s.  

Back to the present, and on reflection I haven’t been out and about as much as I would have liked, and apart from a welcome and very enjoyable day out on the Surrey-Hants border, I haven’t been anywhere of note. l am making progress on our ongoing de-cluttering project, getting rid of things we no longer need or require. Like many people we tend to hang on to things we no longer need, either for sentimental reasons, or because we feel they may come in handy, at sometime in the future. Fortunately, I am getting much better at getting shot of stuff we no longer require, unlike Mrs PBT’s who’ s something of a serial hoarder.

I’m shortly going to take a wander down the garden and check out the shed, because there are three bikes in there – one for each family member. I'm probably the last person to use one of them, and that was three or four years ago possibly longer. Eileen and Matthew haven't used theirs in over a decade or more, so the idea is to clean them up a bit and find somewhere to take them off my hands. I’m sure that with a little TLC, these machines can be spruced up and re-homed. “Re-purposed” is the buzz word, here, but I'm not after money for them; I just want others to get the same use and the same pleasure out of these bikes, that family Bailey have done.

 So that's my project for later this morning, along with contacting a chimney sweep, as mentioned earlier. Showers are forecast for later today, so I need to get the bikes sorted sooner, rather than later. Tomorrow, I've promised to take Mrs PBT’s out for a spot of lunch, and the venue we’ve chosen is the Swan on the Green at West Peckham. Eileen has never been there before, so it will be good to introduce her to the pub and also see how things are progressing there, following the community buy-out. Looking at the forecast for Friday, I’m fairly certain that we shall be eating inside, so it’s just as well I booked a table.

We have arranged a cruise scheduled for mid-October through to the first week of November that will travel across the Atlantic, with planned stops at the Azores and Madeira. I previously visited both locations many years ago during an "educational school cruise"on the SS Nevasa, a converted troopship, owned by the British India shipping line. The accommodation on Nevasa was pretty basic – dormitories, fitted out with bunk-beds, a far cry from the unbridled luxury of a state room, on Cunard’s Queen Victoria. Not as much fun though, and when you’re 16 years old, and bedding down for the night, with a bunch of your schoolmates, you’re not overly bothered by a lack of creature comforts.

Eileen is particularly looking forward to our visit to Madeira, following her niece’s positive experiences there, during a recent holiday, and I shall be looking out for the wine lodges, where the island’s potent, fortified wines are matured. I recall, sampling a few glasses of Madeira, as a 16-year-old, schoolboy - an activity perhaps best reserved for adulthood, even though such misadventures are often part of growing up. Apart from getting mildly pissed in Madeira, my memories of the two island groups are somewhat vague. This particularly applies to the Azores, although I do recall a particular island with a large, volcanic crater that contained two adjacent lakes. One lake was a striking blue, while the other appeared an intense green. The colouring was something to do with the mineral contest of the two bodies of water, although I cannot recall which lake was which, or on which island they were located.

Beyond this, I have few specific recollections of that trip from over half a century ago, apart from the fact that like our upcoming cruise, most of the destinations on the 1971 voyage had a Portuguese connection. This then continues with the inclusion of Porto on the return journey, although we will also be calling at the port of Vigo, located on Spain’s southern coast. We stopped off at this compact and picturesque port city, during a cruise to Greece and some of the Greek islands, back in 2023. From memory you can walk straight off the ship in Vigo, and with a few shady bars, down some of the city’s narrow streets, it should prove a pleasant way of whiling away an hour or two.

As you might be aware from previous posts, Mrs PBT’s and I have celebrated a couple of significant occasions, including a milestone 70^th birthday for me, plus our Ruby wedding anniversary a couple of weeks’ ago. The week after next, Mrs PBT’s will be celebrating her own 70^th birthday, so there’s plenty  happening in the Bailey household, during the run up to our next cruise.

Fine dining, or something in-between

After my visit the other week to the upmarket Poacher & Partridge, I thought I’d take a look at another “fine dining” outlet. The pub I had in mind is just a couple of miles away from the Poacher but has a strikingly large number of similarities. It’s a public house called the Carpenters Arms, and it’s one that I’ve written about a couple of times in the past, mainly in connection with eating, and work’s summer parties. 

That would be Mrs PBT’s work’s bash, rather than my own, but since the pandemic the parties seem to have dried up. I’m not sure if that’s in line with the firm’s order book, or whether there’s some other reason, but these aren’t the sort of questions for me to ask. Instead, I used to just turn up, when instructed, and enjoy an evening of drink, plus a buffet, along with some interesting construction-like conversation.

Before getting down to the nitty-gritty of the article, it’s worth noting the unusual appearance of the Carpenters Arms. The pub is constructed to look like a “Dutch Barn”, a look which for a short while, was the house-style of former Maidstone brewers Style & Winch. The current building was constructed in 1932, and replaced two old cottages, which had formerly housed the pub. There are a number of other pubs, built in the same style, but only one is still trading as a pub. the World’s Wonder, in the village of Warehorne, on the edge of Romney Marsh. Style & Winch were a well-respected local brewer who were bought by the London brewers, Barclay Perkins shortly before the new pub was built. The company continued brewing their distinctive “Kentish Farmer” brand beers until well into the 1950’s when Barclays merged with their Southwark neighbours, Courage. The Maidstone Brewery then switched to producing Courage beers, until its closure in 1966.

The Carpenters underwent an extensive renovation several years ago and has since become a sought-after destination for residents of Tonbridge seeking a rural experience without venturing far from the town centre. The pub is conveniently accessible by bus during daytime hours, and offers a blend of bar, restaurant, and accommodation in a contemporary style. The interior features black and white photographs depicting the local area in former times, adding to the venue's character. An extensive and well-regarded menu appeals to a broad range of diners. The thoughtfully designed interior creates a welcoming atmosphere that balances modernity with comfort. 

Guests can enjoy al-fresco dining or drinks on either the front patio, the side garden, or the heated rear terrace. Upstairs, there are nine recently refurbished rooms that provide accommodation, for those wishing to stay longer. The Carpenter’s Arms is owned by Young’s plc, who reputedly paid a handsome sum for the pub.  Last time I called in, Young’s London Original, was one of the two cask offerings, but the beer isn't a patch on the Wadsworth-brewed original. So, here we have a beer that’s brewed at Burton-on-Trent, masquerading as a beer originating in the capital! Fortunately Harvey’s Sussex Best came to the rescue.

It’s a relatively easy journey to the Carpenters, from my house in Tonbridge, as the No. 7 Arriva bus, passes the junction where Three Elm Lane joins the A26, Hadlow Road. The bus stop is just before the large ESSO filling station, and shop – a feature you can’t really miss. The only slightly dodgy section in reaching the pub is the 6-minute walk along the lane to the Carpenters. 

I say dodgy because there is no pavement, and in places the hedge encroaches on the road, but it’s only a problem for a very short time, and if you keep your wits about you, with both eyes on the road ahead, whilst at the same time listening out for any traffic coming up behind, you will be fine. Then, before you know it, the pub will loom large on your left. The first part you’ll see is the raised, terrace garden, in front of the pub, and during the summer months you will probably hear the sounds of revelry, as well. I undertook this journey a couple of Sundays ago and am pleased to report that the outward and return journeys worked seamlessly. It is worth getting to the bus stop several minutes in advance, because buses sometimes run early, not often, I’ll grant you, but you don’t want to be the individual who gets caught out.

So, there we have it, another “fine dining” pub, worthy of a visit if you like that sort of thing, but if you want something more traditional and down to earth, then it’s worth shopping around. A mile and a half further along Three Elm Lane, in an easterly direction, will take you to the tiny hamlet of Golden Green and the Bell Inn. I’m fairly certain that I’ve never set foot in what CAMRA describes as “A well-kept traditional village pub, which is now a Free House and serving various local ales including Tonbridge Brewery.” With no mention of food, or even snacks, the Bell is the antithesis of fine dining, and a pub that sounds like the complete opposite to the Carpenters. I shall make a point of calling in, the next time I am passing, just so I can tick the place off.

Continuing for an additional mile and a half, towards the large, and sprawling  village of East Peckham, and you will see on your left, the picturesque Man of Kent, overlooking the river Bourne, in the hamlet of Little Mill. Now this 16^th century old inn is a pub I’ve been to several times in the past, and it's one I’d describe as being somewhere in between the Carpenters and the Bell. The Man of Kent is unusual these days in having two bars. The saloon bar has a very low oak beamed ceiling, so care is needed on entering! To the left is an alcove for dining while a massive, double-sided fireplace to the right separates the cosy public bar. The 208 bus, running between East Peckham and Tonbridge stops conveniently outside the pub, so there’s no excuse for me in not visiting this one. It has been on my radar for some time, so a trip out to the Bell, followed by  a stop off at the Man of Kent, sounds plausible for the next pub Friday!

Halfway House re-visited

I’ve written before about how I’ve gone off large, CAMRA style beer fests, whilst continuing to enjoy pub beer festivals, or similar, small-scale events. Speaking of which, one particular event provides a real attraction, and particular affection for me, and here I’m talking about the beer festival, held twice-yearly at the Halfway House, just outside the village of Brenchley. It’s been several years since I last attended this excellent festival, so on Friday I decided to make up for the deficit. August Bank Holiday being almost a week early (due to the 25^th being the last Monday in August), really threw me, and neither I nor Eileen had made any plans.

My decision then, to attend the event on the opening Friday, was made very much on the spur of the moment and was made with virtually none of the forward planning I usually put into such outings. For example, I hadn’t been in touch with any friends or associated from CAMRA, and whilst travel arrangements had been notified in advance, there seemed little consensus, certainly on the local WhatsApp group, as to which bus(es) to go for, and who exactly was.  The specified bus was the 12:15 Hams Travel service from Tunbridge Wells station, but as I had a few things to sort out at home first, I ended up taking the next bus, scheduled to depart at 14:10.

It was already running 10 minute’s late, and was then beset by the inevitable roadworks, this time in both Matfield and Brenchley. Worse still I had to endure two complete strangers, sat a couple of rows behind me, discussing their various ailments and medical conditions – a trait that doesn’t seem confined to just the elderly! That was definitely an occasion when a pair of earphones would have come in handy! 

I was losing the will to live by the time the bus deposited me outside the Halfway House, and with the time at almost 3pm, I had quite some serious catching up to do. The festival was in full swing, when I arrived, but first I popped into the pub to “top up the lager barrel” as an old CAMRA friend used to say. Being jolted around on a bus, was putting unwanted pressure on my bladder, so a nice clean pub toilet was most welcome. It was also a pleasant contrast to the “trough” – quite literally a re-purposed, farmyard drinking trough for cattle, that represented the facilities provided for male festival goers.

A group of friends from West Kent CAMRA branch had arrived before me, but had taken a different bus out to Matfield, walked down to Hopbine at Petteridge, in order to check it out, and then walked along to Halfway House. They followed the well-trodden, cross-country route between the two pubs, that many of us have used in the past. The news from the Hopbine was positive which is good to hear during these difficult times for the pub trade. I joined the group in one of the barn-like structures, sited towards rear of site. There was plenty of seating, although if truth be known, I would have preferred to have sat outside – so did a couple of others, but that’s another story.

With an impressive lineup of 60, gravity served beers, racked up in the outside barn, plus an additional 10 in the pub, cask drinkers were certainly spoiled for choice. At the outside bar, there was none of the glass deposit nonsense that is so much a feature of CAMRA events, and no wretched tokens either - just good old-fashioned cash or card if that’s your preferred method of payment. 

I know apologists for CAMRA style events claim that punters like to take a festival glass home with them, after the event – a souvenir, but there must be cupboards and cabinets throughout the land, groaning with the weight of yet another “festival” glass.  They eventually end up at the charity shop, which is where a load of mine are going, next week! Others argue that tokens help overall security, plus centralise cash collection and storage. I did notice at the last GBBF I attended (2019), that bars were sensibly taking cash, or card, so perhaps things have changed on a national level, within the Campaign.

The Halfway House beer festival is a very laid-back event, which on the surface, appears more or less to run itself. Behind the scenes though, a lot of detailed planning and organisation goes into the event, which has now been running for 22 years. With two festivals a year, the current event represents the 46^th beer bash for this family-run, country pub, and whilst much of the organising might seem like second nature, I suspect there’s a highly polished, well-oiled machine, behind the laid-back approach.

My only look inside the pub, the other day, was that visit to the Gents, but for those unfamiliar with the Halfway House, it is well-known among pub enthusiasts, for its emphasis on cask-conditioned beer. The casks are stored in a temperature-controlled room directly behind the bar, and beer is dispensed through extended taps that pass through specially designed wooden barrel facades of the back wall of the serving area. This arrangement ensures that the beer is served at an optimal temperature and in its most authentic form—directly from the cask. The pub itself lies in an idyllic countryside setting, between the villages of Brenchley and Horsmonden. With a large and extensive garden to left of the pub, that leads down into the bottom of a valley, bucolic would be the best way to describe the Halfway House.

Another characteristic of this easy-going, laid-back event, are a number of live groups of musicians or solo acts that provide an entertaining, but not intrusive musical background to the event. The final ingredient, of course, is something solid to help soak up all that beer, and once again the Halfway House delivers, with items from the pub’s main menu available during normal opening times for the kitchen, supplemented by barbecue items on the Friday, plus Hog Roasts on both Saturday and Sunday.

What about the beers themselves then? Well, with 70 cask offerings to choose from, visitors to the festival really are spoiled for choice, but in common with most other festivals of this size and scope, I do find a slight tendency for them all to start tasting the same, especially after three or four pints, drunk as halves. I normally start with the lower strength stuff, and then work my way slowly upwards, but Friday was something of a blur. With a two-hour interval between the last bus and the penultimate one, my friends who had been there longer than me opted for the latter bus. This meant drinking up and heading along to the bus stop, outside the pub along with a couple of dozen other people. We all managed to squeeze on to the 16:46 bus, and whilst I would like to have stayed longer, it was probably the sensible thing to do. The last bus departs at 18:32, and I could just imagine the ensuing chaos if an even larger number of punters all tried piling on to that final service of the evening.

It was probably just as well that I left when I did, my companions certainly thought they were doing the right thing, but it did mean missing out on a few more beers, plus some barbecued food. I shall plan things differently next time, but whether I shall revert to walking there and back, as was my wont prior to the pandemic, is open to question. As in previous years, the event attracted a diverse group of patrons who appreciated the beer, sunshine, barbecue, and convivial company. Held in the expansive pub garden, surrounded by picturesque rural scenery, the Halfway House beer festival embodies a quintessentially English experience, and for many, including myself, often provides an ideal conclusion to an excellent summer.