Apple Cider Reconstitution

As you may have gathered from the previous post, I spent a quiet birthday at home with the family, or rather with Eileen, as Matthew was at work. I finished doing some tidying up in the garden, despite being under orders from my good lady wife, not to overdo it. I’m not sure what she thought I’d be doing, especially as the bone-dry ground far too hard for any digging.  in the meantime, she prepared a very nice joint of roast pork for our Sunday dinner. As far as the drink was concerned, I went for something a little different for this special occasion, by selecting two high strength alcoholic beverages.

The first of these was a large 750 ml bottle of Sainsbury's Taste the Difference Celebration Ale, which was given to me by a work colleague as a Christmas present. However, with a potency of 7.9% abv, and a volume one
and a half times that of a normal bottle of beer, I was reluctant to open it, because I thought it was a lot of strong, high-octane beer to get through in one sitting. I needn't have been concerned because the beer was packaged in a corked bottle, so it was quite easy to re-cork it, and save some for later - or at least it was until the cork dried out!

I’m pleased to report that the beer was excellent, and despite its high strength it didn't taste sweet, or cloying, as one might have expected from a beer of this gravity. According to the bottle, Celebration Ale is best served lightly chilled and is perfect to be enjoyed on any occasion, including celebrations, particularly in view of its strength. It is a blonde ale bursting with bright citrus and tropical fruit notes, balanced with a subtle herbaceous character, set against a warming spiciness, which derives from the use of Australian Vic Secret hops. Brewed in the French town of Arques, a commune in the Pas-de-Calais department in northern France, bordering Saint-Omer, an area that has been under Belgian, English, French and Spanish rule at different times, during it long history. It was definitely a fitting beer for a significant birthday celebration.

The other drink celebration drink I enjoyed wasn't a beer but was instead a bottle of Waitrose No. 1 English Vintage Perry. Produced in partnership with Weston’s, the renowned West Country cider maker, who were established in 1880, and made with 100% fresh pressed pear juice this Herefordshire Perry is made using fresh pears, selected from a single year’s harvest. The Perry is slow matured to bring out the complex pear flavours generously refreshing scrub that deliciously refreshing with baked fruit flavours and a hint of Ruby Grapefruit and spice. It's a perfect match for creamy cheeses according to the label on the bottle. I'd selected it as the perfect match for a joint of roast pork, and I certainly wasn't wrong with that judgement.

The only trouble was this enjoyable and rather good, sparkling perry has an alcohol content of 8.0% so, following on, from an equally strong beer, was probably not a good idea, even though I was celebrating a significant milestone in my life. As with the Celebration Ale. I didn't drink the bottle all at once, in fact I ended up re-capping it as best I could and drinking the remaining half, the following day. Kept in the fridge it was still good and hadn’t lost its sparkle or its appealing taste.

Now I was going to tell the tale about cider being responsible for the first time I became tipsy, at the tender age of 14, but looking back I discovered that I’d posted that particular story, back in August 2020. I must have been bored, during Covid, but the post is still worth re-reading, especially as it sets out my feelings about cider, and how I disapproved with CAMRA becoming sidetracked with their separate, and in my view completely unrelated campaign in support of fermented apple (and pear) juice.

That stance has mellowed since then, especially as I’m not longer a member of CAMRA, but also because I’m becoming more enamoured with traditional cider and perry, and the role these drinks play in pub life today. Give it a read, along with the other article it links to, which is about – you guessed it, Waitrose No. 1 English Vintage Perry.

 

 

Three score years & ten

When you’re in your twenties, you can’t even contemplate what it must be like to reach the grand old age of 70, apart from thinking that it’s positively ancient! The same applies when you reach the ages of 30 and 40. By the time you notch up your half century, you start giving creeping old age a bit of thought, but not a lot though, and even when you reach 60, the thought of surviving another decade doesn't register that highly on your clock.

And yet, here I am today, seventy years young, and apart from a little slower, slightly stiffer, plus and a few more minor aches and pains, nothing much is different. I’ve had to renew my UK driving licence, which was a change, as the previous one was a rather dog-eared, folding paper one – a legacy of not having changed my address these past 30 years, but then there are the other benefits – most of which have kicked in over the 4-5 years leading up to the big seven-O.

Free NHS prescriptions, free travel on UK buses (with certain time restrictions), reduced-price rail travel, and whilst that does involve purchasing a rail card, I’ve already re-couped the price of that. No National Insurance contributions, deducted from my wages each month, either. I was going to add free eye sight tests, but that benefit is down to an existing eye condition.

So, on balance, it’s all good, with my Bus Pass coming out way on top. It’s a benefit I take advantage of most weeks, even if it’s just taking the bus back from a trip into Tonbridge. Before anyone says I ought to walk, I do rely on shank’s pony to reach the town centre, it’s just that the walk back, involves a steep climb in order to reach Bailey Towers. Free bus travel comes into its own when planning pub trips out to rural areas, and this has fast become my favourite means of accessing those hard-to-reach rural gems, without risking my driving licence, my own safety, and that of other road users.

Seventy years, translates to 52 years of legally permitted beer drinking, although as with many of my contemporaries there were a couple of years preceding my 18^th birthday, when the odd pint or two was quaffed in pubs where the licensee was either unaware of my age, or turned a blind eye- Nelson fashion. There have been numerous changes on both the beer and pub scenes, and whilst not all of them have been for the better, the choice of different beers, and the increase in both range and styles, has been phenomenal. Spoilt for choice, is certainly an understatement, and yet, in a perverse sort of way there is a nostalgic longing for the pubs of yesteryear.

Two-bar pubs, offering a choice of public or saloon bars, and sometimes even more. Most pubs tied to the owning brewer – back in the day when breweries cared about their tied estates, and the people (mainly tenant licensees) who lived and worked in them. Sensible prices, that meant affordable beers, and brews with character, that still tasted of malt and hops. Many more pubs too, as looking bad it’s sad to recall how many we’ve lost over the years. The joy, and sheer excitement of travelling to a different area of the country where you knew, even without publications like the Good Beer Guide to direct you, that there would be a different local brew to become acquainted with and, depending on the area, quite often several.

It isn’t all doom and gloom though, as on the plus side, drinkers have at last been treated as adults. The fact that a piece of legislation, introduced during the Great War, to stop munitions workers enjoying a mid - afternoon pint, was allowed to last so long, is a sad indictment of not just our political system, but also of the straight-laced puritan morals, of certain parts of society. For example, having to wait until 7pm on a Sunday evening, for pubs to re-open, following on from a paltry two-hour lunchtime session, the same day, seems absurd now, yet UK drinkers endured this for the best part of 50 years.

Also, on the plus side, the enormous explosion in the number of small and often local breweries, is something very few drinkers would have envisaged, back in 1973, when I had my first legal pint. Sadly, I can’t remember the time or the place, although I suspect it would have been in the Honest Miller, which was the pub in the small, Kent village of Brook, where I spent my teenage years. I also suspect that it was my father, who bought me that pint, despite him not being a beer drinker, or a pub man. (Footnote, the Honest Miller re-opened as a community-run pub, in July last year, after closing in 2020, and falling into disrepair. It is currently only open Thurs-Sat, whilst the renovation work continues).

The influence of CAMRA, and the huge role the organisation played in saving traditional cask ale, is also something that would have been hard to imagine, 52 years ago, and I’m immensely proud of my time as a member of one of the most successful consumer groups, ever, along with the numerous pub surveys I undertook, the branch newsletters I help write, as well as edit, the beer festivals that saw me and numerous other volunteers, serve pint after pint of tasty and characterful, local ales to an appreciative public.

I still think that CAMRA’s proudest achievement was enabling beer drinkers all over the globe to discover and embrace, their own local beers styles, to run beer festivals, and eventually open breweries of their own, committed to promoting local beers and local brewing traditions. I’ve been grateful to have experienced some of this for myself through visits to countries such as Belgium, Czechia and Germany, with their own proud brewing traditions. 

I've also come across similar scenarios in countries such as the USA, Ireland and many other European countries, who have followed CAMRA’s example, as well as some of their neighbours, by resurrecting some of their own indigenous beers and brewing styles. It is now, virtually impossible to travel anywhere in the beer-drinking world, and not find a beer with character and appeal, which above all else is satisfying and enjoyable.

This brings me on to the many friends and acquaintances, I have met along the way, the people I have shared a few beers with, chewed the cud with, in a pub or bar somewhere along the line, or whose company I have enjoyed on days out, trips abroad or whilst walking a long-distance footpath or two. It is people who, at the end of the day, make these occasions so special. Beer, in its many different varieties, acts as the social lubricant for these events, and they in turn enhance the whole beer, pub and walking experience.

I ought, also to mention, that I’ve enjoyed a long and varied career, that began following my graduation in 1976, from the University of Salford, and which took me into the fields of wine & spirits, water treatment, veterinary pharmaceuticals, organic peroxides & powder grinding, and then finally, for the best part of 20 years, Medical Devices, in the form of dental materials. 

 Sandwiched in between, was a five-year period of running my own, off-licence, specialising in cask ales to drink at home, along with bottled beers from both home and abroad. The late Brian Johnston titled his autobiography, “It’s Been a Lot of Fun,” and on the whole, it certainly has. 

Special mention too, should be made of my family who have supported and put up with me over the years, especially Eileen, my wife of nearly 40 years, plus of course son Matthew who has turned out to be an all round good fellow, and a son to be proud of. Last, but by no means least, I would like to thank all friends and other family members who have helped along the way, regardless of the assistance rendered, or whether it was just a case of them being there, that propelled me along the way, on my journey through life, and for getting me to this stage. Thank-you all, I couldn't have got here without you!

 

 

Still firmly Anchored in Sevenoaks

 

On Thursday evening, for the first time in a long while. I participated in a meeting of my local CAMRA branch. Despite no longer being a member, I still keep in touch with events at a local level, so It wasn’t as if I had been actively avoiding the branch. Instead, finding an evening where I did not have work the following morning, and where son Matthew would be home sufficiently early from his job, to enable us to have dinner at a reasonable hour, often proves a challenge, especially prior to heading out to an evening meeting venue. In short, I don’t like rushing!

The meeting took place at the Anchor in Sevenoaks, located a short distance from the town’s marketplace, and was an opportunity for West Kent CAMRA to present legendary Sevenoaks licensee, Barry Dennis with a well-deserved award for best pub in Sevenoaks. Barry, and his business partner Phil Wheeler, have managed this traditional town local, for the past 46 years and during that time the Anchor has become something of institution within Sevenoaks. The pub has achieved numerous awards, and the latest falls under one of the categories determined by the local CAMRA branch.

The awards appear to be part of a growing trend, within CAMRA
which, if it continues, could perhaps see presentations or awards for various niche categories - pub with the most attractive wallpaper, anyone? None of this though, diminishes Barry's achievements at the Anchor, such as his longevity as licensees, and his exemplary skills and performance as host behind the bar. He is certainly a larger-than-life character and a real showman as well, conducting himself more like a “Master of Ceremonies”. He never seems to stand still, and there is always something “going on” at the Anchor.

A text reminder was sent out to CAMRA members, and supporters, a few days in advance of the presentation, suggesting that individuals traveling from Tonbridge or Tunbridge Wells might prefer taking the bus rather than the train. This recommendation was made due to the substantial uphill walk to the Anchor, from Sevenoaks station, meaning those who opted for the bus could conveniently disembark at the bus station, which is just a short distance from the Anchor.  

This was fine, so long as the buses ran to time, but following a 15-minute wait for the last 402 service of the evening, I was on the verge of swapping on to the rails, when the bus finally turned up. I climbed to the top deck and enjoyed the view, as the journey took us north through Hildenborough and then up the steep incline of River Hill into Sevenoaks itself. One friend, who had opted for an earlier bus, gave up after 40 minutes, and took the train instead, whilst his travelling companion returned home. None of this is good publicity for Arriva, the bus company concerned.

Despite a relatively low turnout, which might in part have been due to factors, such as buses not playing ball and other delays caused by the inimitable roadworks - scheduling the work for school holiday periods, almost certainly played a part here, it was a good evening. My appearance surprised a few familiar faces, but not to the extent of "you're still alive, then?" As previously mentioned, circumstances such as conflicting dates or inconvenient timings have prevented me from attending in the past. Despite this it was quite gratifying reconnecting with friend and acquaintances who I hadn’t seen for a considerable period, probably since before Christmas!

When I arrived at the Anchor, there was a quite diverse crowd present, and this was aside from the CAMRA contingent. Barry has a knack for attracting people from various walks of life and making them feel welcome, for instance, he manages to attract custom from the traveling players, performing at the nearby Stag Theatre. Additionally, he organizes various activities, including a meat raffle, poker evenings (with no money changing hands), open mic nights, quizzes, and much more, to his unashamedly old-fashioned, but very welcoming local.

Last Thursday, the CAMRA crowd was able to choose from three different cask ales, including the “must stock” Harvey’s Best, alongside two offerings from Thanet breweries, in the form of Seasider from the long-established Gadd’s, plus a beer from nearby Wantsum, whose Anchor Imperial Ale is brewed specially for Barry’s pub, as implied by the pump clip. If I’m honest, I’ve never really taken to Wantsum Ales, despite the obvious, strapline appeal of the brewery’s name, but this darkish bitter was eminently drinkable, as was the Gadd’s offering. Again, there are other beers I prefer from this Ramsgate Brewery – No. 3 plus No.5, but this 4.3% amber ale was still very pleasant.

Before the presentation of the certificate, plus the obvious photo opportunity, made by Tony, the West Kent chairman, Barry brought out some plates of sandwiches, although having not long had a substantial dinner, I managed to resist temptation. I spent the rest of the evening catching up on what had been occurring recently, both within CAMRA – quite a lot of dissent over reorganisation plans for both branches and regions, plus what various friends and acquaintances had been up to – far more interesting!

The three of us travelling back towards Tonbridge and Tunbridge Wells, left the Anchor just after 11pm, glad that the walk back to the station was all downhill. Unlike my two companions, I needed to buy a ticket, and whilst there was still time (just), I almost missed the train due to the tidal wave of commuters, streaming their way up both the up and the down staircases from the platform. The herd instinct is obviously still alive and kicking! It is an uphill walk to Bailey Towers, back from the station, but it’s something I’m used to after 40 years or so of living in Tonbridge. I was still glad of my bed though, when I finally reached home.

Walking for pleasure

 

As well as beer and travel, one of my other main interests is walking. By walking I mean being out in the great outdoors, travelling from one destination to another, preferably across country. This cross-country walking, as opposed to pounding the streets in urban areas, is variously described as hiking, rambling, hill walking, trekking, or backpacking. The latter two terms refer to long-distance walking where participants carry their entire luggage required for a multi-day hike, on their back in a rucksack. Walking, particularly in high mountain areas for several days, is also known as trekking.

Rambling normally refers to organised groups of between six and twelve people, following a clearly defined route plan. To me, rambling, conjures up middle-aged men in shorts, over-sized leather boots, brushed-cotton shirts with the sleeves rolled up and a large, stiff, and well-worn canvas rucksack on their backs. The women are of similar age and similarly attired; possibly with a tweed skirt replacing the shorts. Whether it’s a rucksack, a knapsack, or a backpack they’re carrying (the terms are largely inter-changeable), it will invariably contain an Ordnance Survey map, a flask of tea, packed lunch, plus that confectionery no serious rambler would be without – Kendal Mint Cake!

I prefer the term walker, and most of the walking I undertake is either a circular hike to a nice country pub, or a linear hike following an established long-distance footpath (LDP), of which there are many in the UK. The former are normally undertaken with a small group of friends, whilst the latter are either solo walks, or with just one fellow walker for company. They quite often involve at least one overnight stay, and often several more. The latter two are my favourite types of walking, as they afford a real opportunity of getting away from away from it all; a break as it were from the stresses and strains of modern life.

I have only completed three long-distance footpaths all of which are in the UK. The first of these walks was the South Downs Way, which is one of the oldest of Britain’s LDP’s. The SDW is a 100-mile trail which follows the line on the chalk South Downs uplands from Eastbourne on the East Sussex coast to Winchester – the ancient capital of England. The second LDP is the Wealdway, an 83-mile trail from Gravesend on the Thames Estuary to the town of Eastbourne, on the south coast, overlooking the English Channel. As its name suggests, the walk traverses the Weald area of Kent and Sussex, in a roughly north-south direction.

I completed both these walks over 10 years ago, and last autumn (2022), I finally finished the North Downs Way. The latter LDP is perhaps a mirror image to the SDW, as it takes a similar east-west route, but along the chalk escarpment of the North Downs. It broadly follows the historic pilgrims would have taken, from the Surrey town of Farnham to the shrine of St Thomas Becket in Canterbury. It doesn’t end at the cathedral city, as it carries on towards Dover and the famous White Cliffs, and just to complicate matters, the path splits just to the west of the river Stour, with northerly and southerly routes, both of which finish at Dover,

It took me much longer to complete the NDW, as with a couple of exceptions, I walked the route a section at a time, on the odd day off from work. This was in contrast to the other two walks which were completed several sections at a time, with overnight stays, either at pubs or bed & breakfast establishments along the way. Overnight stops were a key feature of these walks and added to the sense of freedom and relief that goes hand-in-hand with “getting away from it all.”

Sometimes it's nice to walk alone, especially when you fancy a bit of solitude, but the enjoyment which comes from shared experiences on the trail, such as appreciating a spectacular view, laughing at a particularly funny joke, or sinking that first pint of the evening, is something which cannot be under-estimated. It’s nice to set a challenge, plan it out and then set off to accomplish it. If the challenge is a physical one, then so much the better, and as I experienced on the NDW, walking the entire length of the county, and then heading into neighbouring Surrey, took me to places I hadn’t been to before, even though they’re at most a few hours’ drive or train ride away.

There are several other LDPs I would like to have a go at, Including the famous Pennine Way, the Cotswold Way, and nearer to home the Greensand Way. If I had my time again, or was perhaps 30 years younger, the world famous, 2,200-mile-long, Appalachian Trail in the east of the United States would be the long-distance walk to aspire to. The American writer Bill Bryson famously recounted his experiences attempting to walk the trail, in his book, “A Walk in the Woods,” but the book that really inspired me was “Journey Through Britain,” by British walking enthusiast, John Hillaby. 

Published in 1968, the book describes Mr Hillaby’s epic eleven-hundred-mile trek from Land’s End to John O’Groats. My father, who was an avid reader, as well as a collector of books, lent me his copy. I read it whilst in my teens and still living at home with my parents. I eagerly devoured the book, fascinated by the author’s narrative and descriptions of the places he passed through on his epic journey. From memory, he had an interesting and slightly eccentric view of life, and this comes across in his often-witty observations. A few years later, he published a follow-up in the form of “Journey Through Europe.”

Both books inspired me to take up walking for both fitness and pleasure, and I have enjoyed walking since my mid-teens. During this time, I lived in a small village, with poor or non-existent public transport links. This meant it was often necessary to resort to shank’s pony as a means of getting about. I was also a member of a local youth group which, during the school holidays, embarked on a number of Youth-Hostelling trips. I’ve got the leader of the group to thank for taking us on these holidays, which involved a fair amount of walking and, whilst it may on occasion have seemed hard going at times, just being out in the fresh air and enjoying the local scenery, instilled a love of the great outdoors which I still have today.

For the record the group leader was the local vicar, and the locations we visited, and walked, included the South Downs, North Wales, the Peak District, and the Isle of Wight. On one of these trips, I learned how to take compass bearings and follow these across open moorland, without getting lost. You don’t lose these skills and even though navigation by GPS has largely augmented proper map-reading, there is still no substitute for being able to follow a map, unaided.

A few years ago, I heard an article on the radio entitled, “It’s the sitting down that kills you”. Apparently, research has shown that sitting down in excess of six hours a day makes you up to 40% more likely to die within 15 years, than someone who sits for less than three hours. This applies, even if you exercise! Fortunately, as stated earlier, I’ve always been fairly active, and my current job allows me to walk around the factory on a regular basis.I also go for a walk most lunchtimes, covering between a mile and a mile and a half. This allows me some exercise before getting back to my sandwiches and a cup of tea. I really enjoy being out in the fresh air and getting away from the factory, whilst the rural setting of my workplace adds to my enjoyment. Following a small number of set routes also allows me to appreciate the changing seasons; something which is obviously far more noticeable in the country than it is in a town.

I shall end by describing briefly, the sense of achievement and euphoria I experienced on my first LDW, which was the South Downs Way. It was the spring of 2008 when a friend and I set off to walk the 100 or so miles from Eastbourne to Winchester. We completed the walk the following year, having divided the trail up into three manageable sections. We stayed overnight at B & B establishments along the way; some of which were pubs, and in the evenings especially, there was normally plenty of beer consumed to rejuvenate a tired and aching body. I cannot overstate the enjoyment of walking through some of the most attractive landscapes in southern England, the camaraderie, and the people we met along the way.

We felt a real sense of achievement at finishing this LDP, and the following morning celebrated our arrival in Winchester, by visiting the Hospital of St Cross, just outside the city. Having followed the outward path through the water meadows surrounding the river Itchen, we arrived at this venerable Christian establishment, where we asked for, and received the "Wayfarer's Dole" of bread and ale. Whilst neither of us are religious, we still felt like modern day pilgrims, and that sense of fulfillment is something I still remember to this day. Walking then, can be good for the soul, as well as the body, and is an activity that I highly recommend.