Celebrating one thousand beers on Untappd!

Last Saturday evening I finally hit the magic 1,000. One thousand what you may ask, and the answer is 1,000 unique beers ticked on beer-scoring app Untappd. The latter is the well-known app that I've been using on and off for the last dozen or so years ago. Untappd allows users to tick or “tap” beers in real time, that they’ve been drinking in pubs, bars, restaurants, or hotels, but not only places away from one’s dwelling, but at home as well. Using tracking software, linked to the app, the technology keeps a record of each individual beer scored by the user. It’s clever enough to note each time you tap a beer that you haven't tried before and then keep a running total. Slowly, and overtime, your score of tapped beers continues to rise until, like me, you hit a significant milestone.

Untappd is surprisingly straightforward, as long as you don’t forget to tap those beers as you go along, and slowly, but surely, over the years you will build up a record of all the beers you’ve encountered and enjoyed over the years. You can also track of the beers your friends, and acquaintances have been enjoying – as long as those people are fellow Untappd members, of course. Once you’ve set up your account, the Untappd will store details all those beers that you’ve sampled, even the ones that you’ve long forgotten about. 

Last Friday, I knew I was inching closer to that magic 1,000 beers, especially as I was convinced that the beer I had just cracked open, was a new one (unique, in other words). I was wrong though, and if proof was needed that Untappd doesn’t lie, my beer tally was stuck stubbornly on nine-hundred and ninety-nine! I wasn't even sure if the beer I'd picked next was a new one either, although I could have looked on Untappd first, but instead, I decided to take a chance. As luck would have it, this was indeed my first check-in with that beer, and the satisfying notification confirming that I'd finally passed the 1,000 mark. The beer in question was a 5.6% abv Festbier from Privatbrauerei Ettl, based in the small Bavarian town of Teisnach, situated approximately 95 km to the east of Regensburg. The brewery can trace its history back to 1543. It was a good beer to celebrate the 1,000 mark, even though it was an unexpected one.

On reflection, I have consumed well over 1,000 different beers during the course of my lifetime, with a substantial majority not recorded on Untappd. We are talking here about a period of over half a century, and many of these beers were regional brews from my youth, that are no longer available. Others were enjoyed in distant places—sometimes on the other side of the world. Examples here are the United States, Japan, and, to a much lesser extent, China.

One notable example relates to a brewpub near Solingen in the Wuppertal valley region of northwest Germany. I visited this area with a group of friends from Maidstone CAMRA, back in 2017, during a visit to Düsseldorf. On the second day of our visit, our tour leader had brought us out to the Wuppertal region so we could have a ride on the unique Schwebebahn Suspension Railway, but not before lunch and a few beers at a large brew-pub, houses in a former municipal swimming baths.  

 Gräfrath Klosterbräu was another brewpub, that was just a short trolley-bus ride away, and was situated halfway down a hill, and away from the main road. All the shutters, doors and windows of this attractive pub were painted a bright green almost as if it was some form of corporate colour scheme. There were three or four “house beers” on tap, and here friends with better, faster and cheaper, mobile data than me, were able to tick off these beers on Untappd. 

 

There have been countless other examples of missed opportunities to “tap” more beers, and I’m thinking here about the four Beer Bloggers and Writers Conventions that I attended during the years 2014 – 2018. These events, organised by American-based “Zephyr Adventures” saw me visiting European cities, such as Dublin, Brussels and Amsterdam, and then culminating in a visit to Virginia, USA and a long weekend spent just outside Washington DC. All four of these events allowed conference delegates to enjoy a wide variety of different beers, as well as visiting a number of iconic local breweries.

Although Untappd is a global app, accessing it does require an internet connection, either by Wi-Fi, or whatever data package is available on your phone. Although things have improved in recent years, prices for data, overseas, can still make accessing Untappd, expensive. For these reasons, there are some quite glaring gaps, in my beer-ticking record, especially during the second decade of the century. Whilst many individuals utilise Untappd to document their beer experiences; the platform primarily serves as a tool for personal record-keeping rather than for obtaining recognition or impressing others. It is common for users to comment on, or toast one another’s selections. Thus, Untappd functions as a social networking platform within the beer enthusiast community.

Founded in 2010, Untappd is a beer-rating app that encourages users to “check in” the beers they’re drinking, tagged to a physical location like a bar or restaurant—or, during the COVID pandemic, at home. It is a platform where users can rate beers, earn badges, share beer photos, and browse local tap lists. Headquarters: Wilmington, North Carolina, United States.  

If you're just getting started with Untappd, the process is quite straightforward. First, create a profile, then search for beers and "check in" whenever you try a new one. Each check-in lets you add comments, upload photos that highlight your beer, and specify flavour tags like hoppy, strong, or smooth. You can also note how the beer was served—whether on draft, from a bottle, can, or as cask ale, which will appeal to real ale enthusiasts. Additionally, you can record where you purchased and enjoyed each beer. All of your check-ins appear on your own timeline as well as in your friends' feeds within the app.

The journey toward this milestone has been enjoyable, although I am unsure what lies ahead for the next 1,000 beers. I noticed I was awarded the 1,000 Beer Badge, which may be worth highlighting or displaying on the website, although as stated earlier, Untappd is about keeping tabs on the beers you have enjoyed over the years, rather than an excuse for "bragging rights".

Final point. A growing number of pubs and bars display Untappd on screens, within the bar – usually when the screens aren’t being used to show sports events, or news stories. I noticed this the other day, at the Nelson, in Tonbridge, the day I finally managed to track down the first Harvey’s Old of the season. There, at the bottom of the screen, displayed in real time, was my Untappd profile picture, along with the words Paul Bailey is drinking Harvey’s XXXX Old Ale, at the Nelson Arms. I really ought to have taken a photo!

Some Harvey's Old, at last!

After my frustration, earlier this month, in searching for Harvey's Old, I was finally able to track some down this afternoon, thanks to a random notification on the West Kent CAMRA WhatsApp forum. Talk about the answer to a beer enthusiast’s prayer, it was as though the forum knew I was looking for this particular beer. The source mentioned that this fine, seasonal dark ale, had been spotted at the Nelson Arms, in Tonbridge, and, to coin a phrase, was drinking well.

This was contrary to what was showing on the normally reliable, Real Finder app that I’ve been using over the past few months. I had noticed that the Nelson’s listings hadn't been refreshed in weeks, so perhaps the pub has stopped using the app or had just forgotten to update its entry. To make sure, I checked the beer listings on the Nelson’s website, and these confirmed that Harvey's Old was indeed available, at the pub.

So, after taking care of a few chores along with some other mundane, household activities, I found a genuine excuse to go out. We were running low on milk, and I knew the milkman wouldn't be coming until the day after tomorrow. Mrs. PBT’s seemed genuinely surprised at the milk shortage, to the point of accusing me of tipping some away, just so I could go out and get some more! I was surprised too, but putting subterfuge to one side, the lack of the “white stuff” as football pundit, Ian Wright used to call it, was the perfect opportunity not only to pick up some more, but also to stop by at the Nelson Arms and enjoy a pint of Old.

Off I went, and enjoyed a pleasant stroll into town. The mid-autumn sunshine was just what was needed, after several days of gloomy and overcast skies, and despite a slight chill in the air, it was a fine mid autumn afternoon. Sunshine really does wonders for lifting one's spirits, and I had a real spring in my step as I headed down into the centre of Tonbridge. I stopped at Sainsbury’s to pick up a two-pint container of milk, along with some toiletries I needed, before crossing the High Street towards the sports ground—often called Tonbridge Park, these days, rather than its correct name of the Racecourse. 

From there, it wasn’t far to the Nelson, and I stepped inside, a little after half past two. Upon entering, I was surprised to find the pub nowhere as busy as I expected, apart from a couple of recent arrivals, just ahead of me in the queue. They were taking their time, deciding which beers they were after. I felt like stepping forward and stating, “I know exactly what I want: a pint of Harvey’s Old, dark, mysterious, and tasty, a beer which I’ve been craving ever since it vanished for the season, back in March!” I didn’t of course, and politely waited my turn, and before long, the friendly and ebullient barmaid was pulling  my pint.

I stood at the bar, raising the glass to my lips, savouring those first tentative mouthfuls of beer. It was almost black in colour, with a loose ivory coloured head on top, pure nectar in a glass. I didn’t note the price, because I paid by card, and after communicating my satisfaction regarding the beer, to all those in earshot, made my way to a nearby table, in sight of the bar. It was a pint to savour, but the thing puzzling me was how unexpectedly quiet the pub was. Checking the Nelson’s website, I noticed that Sunday’s food offering is roast dinners only, served between 12 & 3.30pm. I was there a around 2.40pm and saw few signs of anyone eating.

A mystery, although there’s probably a logical explanation. As far as I was concerned, the fact that the Nelson was serving Harvey’s Old, was sufficient for me, and I’m banking on enjoying many more pints of this classic old ale, before the long autumn-winter season is over. 

Out of step, out of time, and missing a few heartbeats!

Looking back to a post I wrote in February 2020, reminded me about the recent failure of my Smart Watch. The same watch that I’ve been using, since that article, on a daily basis to record my movements and track my fitness goals.  So, what happened, and what has failed? Mrs PBT’s and I had a lie in yesterday (Friday). For me, the day marks the beginning of three days of R &R, because whilst my 3-day work week ends on Wednesdays, I have to get up reasonably early, in order to take the lady of he house to her workplace. That place happens to be a scaffolding company, based on a nearby farm. Her one day a week work routine, is something of a token gesture, and before I’m accused of being patronising, she’d be the first to agree with me.

She would also admit that her part time job gets her out of the house, stops her going completely stir-crazy, whilst allowing her to reconnect with the outside world, even if it is just for one day. The 9.30am start still means a lie in for us both, and for me departing the house at 9.15am, is definitely more preferable than leaving the house at 7.45am, in time for an 8am start at my own place of employment.

Back to the narrative. After arising shortly before 9am yesterday, I made my way downstairs, as usual, to make us both a cup of tea. Returning back to the bedroom, with said refreshing and stimulating liquid, I glanced at my watch and was mildly surprised to notice that my step count was precisely zero. Perhaps, like me, my Garmin Forerunner 45 was taking time to get going, so I thought little of it, apart from placing the timepiece on charge, because the battery indicator was advising a recharge was necessary.

After a fairly hectic schedule the day before, I didn’t have a lot planned, apart from catching up with this blog, and sorting things out for our forthcoming cruise. The weather was dull and overcast, but I was still looking forward to a walk, after breakfast. When I fastened the watch back around my wrist, the step count was still showing zero, even though the power indicator was showing the unit was fully charged. That was when the “fun” started.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the most tech-savvy of people, and I will also say that smartwatches aren’t the easiest of devices to programme or adjust. There are five buttons, located around the periphery of the watch casing, and whilst one is just a light, the others allow access to a number of other functions that allow the user to scroll up and down. They have to be pressed in the correct order, sometimes holding one down whilst pressing another. This isn’t exactly intuitive, and there have been past occasions where I have ended up accessing the completely wrong part of the built-in programme, and I think this is what happened when I attempted to re-engage the step-counter.

Unfortunately, rather than re-connecting the step counter, I ended up by disengaging the heart-rate monitor, so I now have a smartwatch where two of the most important functions don’t work. Not smart at all, and despite various online guides and You Tube videos, I have not been able to rectify the matter. Mrs PBT’s had already told me to stop obsessing about the issue, saying that it’s just a watch, and to a certain extent it is. However, both functions, although more so the step counter, form part of my daily routine, giving me something to aim at each day, as I head off on a walk, or make a decision to leave the car at home and go on foot instead.

The ultimate solution, of course, would be a factory re-set, but as I don't know how to do that, I shall leave things until Monday, and consult one of my work colleagues. The person in question, is not only very tech savvy, he’s also a smartwatch user as well – a Garmin model too, albeit a higher spec model than my own. He’s a keen cyclist too, and uses his watch to record his various cycle rides, so if he can’t help me, then I don’t know who can.

First world problems, of course, but still a very real one, and for someone determined to remain fit well into the next decade, a rather important one as well.

150-year-old, Jersey brewery moves its brewing operations to the UK.

The story I’m about to repeat below, caught my eye the other day, whilst browsing the internet for beer and brewing - related news. It concerns the sad closure of yet another piece of the UK’s brewing heritage, even though the location of the brewery concerned, isn’t actually in the United Kingdom. The territory concerned is much closer to France than it is to Britain, although because for historical reasons, it has strong ties to the United Kingdom.

I’ve never visited the Channel Islands, although this Crown Dependency, is high on my travel wish list. One of my colleagues holidays in Jersey on an annual basis. I forget how many years she and her husband have been visiting the island, but they stay at the same hotel, every year. It reminds me of a former colleague, in a previous existence who, together with his incredibly bossy wife, did the same thing in Cyprus. Not only did the couple stay at the same hotel, but they ensured they were allocated the same room, each year. Furthermore. they always chose the exact same week in August, for their stay. Talk about boring!

 Returning to the Channel Islands, and to Jersey, the largest of the inhabited islands, the closure of the 150-year-old Liberation Brewery has recently been announced. Liberation began life as the Ann Street Brewery, and became famous for visitors to Jersey, for its Mary Ann beers. Somewhere along the line, the company changed its name to the Liberation Brewery, to commemorate the islands' liberation, in 1945, from five years of German occupation, during World War II. In , the company purchased Butcombe Brewery, a company that was one of the original micro-breweries, having been founded in the Somerset village of Butcombe, back in 1978. Renamed as the Butcombe Group, the company controls over 130 UK pubs, in the Channel Islands as well as on the UK mainland. 

The parent company are now saying that, due to dramatically increased costs over the past few years, it is no longer viable to run their Jersey brewery. The latter, which-is based at Tregear House in St Saviour, has been a quintessential part of Channel Island life for nearly 150 years. A  statement issued by the group, just over a week ago said: "The costs of brewing beer and operating the brewery have dramatically risen over the last few years. To make sure we can continue to run a viable brewing business, including brewing a range of Liberation beers, we have evaluated the current effectiveness of the brewery in Jersey and made this difficult decision to shut the brewery at Tregear House. Pat Dean, Head brewer for the Liberation Brewing Company, will transfer to the Somerset site. Some jobs, in Jersey, could be affected but the firm was confident other roles would be made available for those employees".

Managing director Tim Hubert said it was a "sad day" and a "difficult decision" to close the brewery and relocate brewing operations to Somerset, although he did offer a sop to islanders, by confirming that the Liberation wholesale and distribution business would remain unchanged and would continue to operate from the St Saviour site. This concession is little consolation for Liberation's loyal customers,  and is disappointing too for visitors to the island, as well as potential visitors, like me. The Butcombe Group is owned by the investment company, Caledonia Private Capital, whose main objective, like all such groups, is to maximise the returns on investors' capital. And therein lies the clue, as speculators and property investors, are no strangers to the brewing industry. 

At the other end of the spectrum, and still keeping tradition of brewing in the Channel Isles alive, is Matt Topman, who co-founded the Jersey's Stinky Bay Brewery Co in  in 2017. Describing the closure of Liberation, as a sad day for the industry. He explains: "I'm pretty gutted actually, I feel for the guys at Liberation. "It's a real shame, especially when the guys that work there have put so much effort over the years into keeping it going and that local tradition alive."

Sad news then, that the Channel Isles are now left without a brewery of any size, a situation that makes any visit to the islands a lot less appealing to beer lovers like me. Fifty years ago, things were a lot different, as described in Frank Baillie’s “The Beer Drinker’s Companion”. Published in 1973, this ground-breaking book gave details of the four independent brewing companies based in the Channel Islands, at the time.  There were two in Guernsey – Guernsey Brewery Co, and R.W. Randall Ltd, plus two in Jersey -Randalls Brewery (seemingly unrelated to their Guernsey neighbour), and the Ann Street Brewery Co. The latter, famous for their Mary Ann Ales, are the forerunners of Liberation Brewery who, after two surviving two World Wars, German occupation, depressions, recessions and cultural shifts, are being closed by an investment company that seems more interested in making money, than respecting the heritage and traditions of its spiritual home. 

 

Missing out on the Harvey's Old

I’ve got a number of half-written blog posts that require further work, before they’re fit to see the light of day, and without being too pedantic, or too self-critical, most of these posts might best be described as half-baked as well. So, before I give up completely on these unedited ramblings, here’s a quick article regarding a pleasant half-hour interlude that I spent, earlier today, in a local pub.

I’ve been trying for a week or so to track down some Harvey’s Old Ale, the dark and delicious seasonal offering from the brewery that is launched with a flurry of publicity at the start of October. Looking back at last year, I noted that it wasn’t until the third week of the 10^th month, that my quest for Harvey’s Old finally succeeded, so I was looking to better that. Another factor that’s driving me, at the moment, is that in 19 days’ time, Mrs PBT’s and I are heading off on an Atlantic cruise, an outline of which was given in the previous post.

Time definitely isn’t on my side, but neither are the limited number of pubs selling this dark and delicious nectar. This is where the Real Ale Finder all on my phone, comes into its own. Even then though, one has to be quick, as it seems that already I’ve missed a couple of potential opportunities. The first of these was at a well-known local free house, where a cask of XXXX Old Ale seemed appeared to have been consumed in a day and a half. This was the pub I was criticising for stocking too many unknown, “man in a shed” type beers, at the expense of more established brands.

The fact that the old ale vanished so quickly, is proof that my point about stocking the odd “cherished” brand, was correct, but it didn’t help my own quest for the beer. Unfortunately, the tendency of Harvey’s Old to fly off the bar (or out of the pumps), proved correct at another nearby outlet, that is an occasional stockist of this beer. 

I noticed late on Friday night, courtesy of Real Ale Finder, that this dark seasonal was on sale at the Dovecote, situated in the nearby hamlet of Capel. There wasn’t time to head out to Capel, that evening, and yesterday (Saturday), Mrs PBT’s and I had a family birthday to attend. Sunday though was different, and after driving down into Tonbridge for petrol, and to check my tyre pressures, I set off in the direction of Capel. 

Before leaving, I phoned the pub as a precaution, just to double check, so imagine my disappointment at being told that the Harvey’s Old had sold out the evening before. It sold out very quickly, the landlord informed me, but in its place, they did have Devil’s Dyke Porter, from Downland Brewery. This 5.0% abv dark beer, whilst not quite the same as Harvey’s Old, is still a decent and satisfying dark beer. With nothing to lose, I continued my drive over to the Dovecote. I was surprised to discover the car park almost full and was lucky to find a place to park the car.

One possible reason for this unexpected popularity, was the presence of a 10-piece jazz band playing on the rear patio. The musicians sounded good, but with no obvious free seats, plus the fact that I wanted a beer, I made my way inside the pub. It was encouragingly busy, with people enjoying Sunday dinner, although it did seem that the lunchtime rush, was drawing to an end. At the bar, I ordered a pint of Devil’s Dyke, before retiring to a vacant table, close to the fire place, at the left-hand side of the pub,

The beer was good, although it did seem to be lacking a little in condition. I’d ordered a bag of ready salted, Kent Crisps, just because I felt a little peckish, and I sat there enjoying them along with the porter. We see quite a bit of Downland, in this part of Kent, and their beers seem generally well received. I visited the brewery, back in May 2017, as part of a tour group from West Kent CAMRA, that was calling in at a number of breweries, that had picked up awards at the previous autumn’s Spa Valley Railway Beer Festival. I don’t recall that much about the tour, apart from the brewery itself being a little cramped, and not really set up for visitors.

So, that’s it really. After finishing my beer, I handed my empty glass back across the counter and mentioned to the landlord that I was the person who had phoned earlier, regarding the Harvey’s Old. He smiled and replied that the beer had literally flown out over the past couple of days. He would be getting some more in but couldn’t say when. For my part, I shall be keeping close eye on the various pub information and beer ticking sites, just to make sure that I don’t miss out again!

 

 

 

A Tunbridge Wells saunter

Having recently enjoyed a Sonder around Broadstairs, spoiler alert - partially made-up word, although AI is not responsible, exactly a week ago, I headed over to Tunbridge Wells, ostensibly on a clothes shopping expedition. It was more of a saunter really, plus an excuse, to visit a few local pubs, whilst at the same time following Mrs PBT's suggestion to treat myself to a “smart jacket”. By smart, I mean one suitable for wearing in the evening, on board a cruise ship. It’s a style that’s best described as “smart casual”, and basically is a jacket, that I can wear with my regular chinos, and a decent shirt (one with a collar). Nothing too fancy, if I can help it, and definitely not too formal (or uncomfortable), but a garment that will make an evening visit to the posh restaurant, or bars like the Commodore Club, the Chart Room etc much more pleasant. It will also stop the “stuffed shirts” staring at me, although as most of those seem to be ballroom dancers from Pontefract, we can conveniently ignore them!

The fact that I’m splashing out on a new garment, when I’ve spent part of the recent summer, getting rid of unwanted clutter, hints that Mrs PBT’s and I have another ocean-going cruise coming up. It’s booked for the last week of October, through into the first week in November, and will see us heading out into the Atlantic on a voyage that takes in a couple of islands in the Azores archipelago, before a two-day stopover in the lovely island of Madeira. We then head back towards mainland Europe, where we will be calling at destinations in both Portugal and Spain.

Seeking suitable attire for a gentleman/man-about-town, I visited the recently renovated Marks & Spencer store in central Tunbridge Wells, expecting to find options that would complement my style. Unfortunately, I was disappointed that after extensively browsing the store – five minutes max, suitable jackets were apparently, unavailable. When I asked a staff member for assistance, she informed me that suits were in stock but not individual jackets, and she was uncertain about future availability. I appreciated her candour and resolved to check the website periodically for updates. With my shopping concluded, I proceeded to complete my other, and far more important errand, such as visiting a few local pubs.

My journey across to Tunbridge Wells began with an unduly long wait for a bus into town. Eventually the 402 service, one of several running between the two towns, turned up. Typically, this route is operated using double-decker buses, but that particular service was a single deck vehicle, which meant it was standing room only. Fortunately, quite a few passengers left the bus at Southborough, allowing me to claim a seat. I remained on the bus until the town's rail station, as the pubs I intended to visit were located at the bottom end of town. I then made my way up the nearby Grove Hill Road before stopping at a pub that has undergone several changes of name and ownership over the years. I was curious to see what difference its latest reincarnation had made.

The pub in question, has traded under various different names during the four decades that I have been visiting Tunbridge Wells, and after many years as the Kentish Yeoman, this Victorian town alehouse, has been the Black Pig, the Orson Wells and is now known as the Claremont. It is a two-minute walk from the station, and is a deceptively large and rambling restaurant-cum-pub.  It is reported as having a large garden at the rear, but I can’t vouch for this. It had been many years since I last set foot in the pub, so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Upon entering I noticed a sign indicating that the pub is managed by Brakspear’s of Henley-on-Thames, a name I’m sure all beer lovers remember with sadness, following the owning family’s decision to close the brewery, and become a pub-co instead. There are at least two other Brakspear’s owned pub locally, with the George & Dragon, Speldhurst, plus the Leicester Arms, at Penshurst, springing to mind.

Nothing much seemed to be happening in the pub, and with no one present behind the bar, the enforced wait allowed me time to look around. I shall refer you to the pub’s website, for an over-effusive description of the pub, but despite that, the beer options, for serious connoisseurs seemed confined to a mix of the latest “in-vogue” lagers, plus the odd token craft beer. I can’t tell you which ones, as I neglected to take a photo, but had I stayed longer I’m sure I would have done. 

It was still quite early, and the fact that the clip on the single hand-pump had been turned round, didn’t allow for much optimism on the cask ale front. When the barman eventually appeared, he confirmed my fears about the lack of cask, so I asked for a flat white coffee instead. He muttered something about the pub not having a coffee machine, which seemed incredible for an establishment with such upmarket aspirations, but he could “do me a coffee with cold milk”. I presume he meant a cup of instant coffee, which wasn’t at all what I was looking for. I politely declined his offer and bade him farewell.  

On the basis of what I’d experienced since stepping into the Claremont, my verdict was one that was definitely “underwhelming”, especially on a Friday lunchtime, when might expect the pub to be busier. In addition, when viewed against the puff-piece on the Claremont’s website, I was beginning to think that I’d walked into the wrong place, altogether. Take a look, and you will see what I mean.

Undeterred, I continued up the hill and took one of the turnings into the area known as the Grove. I hesitate to call this area a park, even though it has a play area with swings and a side, but the main users of the of this green space, appear to be dog walkers. Sited in the middle of Tunbridge Wells, the Grove is a very pleasant and welcoming public space, and despite its proximity to the shops, the rail station and the general hustle and bustle of a busy west-Kent town, an air of peace and tranquillity hangs over the place. The leaf canopy from the many trees, helps filter out the noise of the traffic, although in a month or so’s time this will all change, as the annual, autumn leaf fall gets underway.

Virtually hidden by the trees, is the rear entrance to the Compasses, a pub with the distinction of being one of the oldest, and one of the cosiest pubs in Tunbridge Wells.  It's a long time since I last set foot in the place, and trying to find the entrance from the Grove, was as difficult as I remember. I walked along the path, which skirts the periphery of the park, and for a short while, things didn’t look too hopeful. It wasn’t until I was almost right upon it, that I found the moderately overgrown entrance leading to the rear of the pub. With parts dating from the early 17^th century, the Compasses blends in well with its surroundings.

There are still two separate bars, plenty of old wooden beams and floors, plus a number of open fireplaces. Leading off from the bars is a space set aside for dining with a quieter snug area looking out over the sunny terrace at the front of the building. The pub also has its own, small garden close to the Grove. My request for a flat white was more successful than in the previous establishment, and I was served a nice, and well-presented cup of coffee. At £3.00 this represented better value than the Costa’s and Starbucks of this world, and was light years away from the instant coffee, with a dash of cold milk, offered at the Claremont.

As I sat enjoying my drink, I couldn’t help chuckling at the dithering of two, late, middle-aged couples who’d met up for a meal. They took ages deciding which table and which chairs to sit at, and then they weren’t sure whether to have a lite-bite, or something more substantial. The thing that really made me laugh though, was the insistence of one of the men for a “best bitter” for his lunchtime tipple.  This could be interesting I thought, as the gentleman in question was obviously not a regular pub goer. Sure enough, his request threw both the bar staff and the customer himself into a state of confusion, when it came to deciding which of the several bitters on sale, might be classed as “best”.

By this time, I too found myself fancying a glass of bitter, best or otherwise, so I wandered into the left-hand bar, where the pumps were situated, to check out what was on offer. My eye was drawn to a striking looking, sky-blue coloured pump clip, advertising a beer called Genevieve. This is a cask beer, brewed as a collaboration between Greene King and Thornbridge, which later research revealed to be a hop-forward, clean and crisp, West Coast IPA, with an ABV of 4.5%. This collaboration beer looked really tempting, so imagine my disappointment at being told that the beer was “resting”. I presumed the young barman meant the beer hadn’t settled yet, although it was quite obvious the young lad didn't really know much about the mystique involved with cask ale (train your staff properly!)  That's a shame I said, as I really fancied the Genevieve, and with IPA and Abbot not really ticking the right boxes, I made my excuses and left a pub, for the second time that afternoon.

Departing via the front door, I paused to take a few photos on the way. My eye was drawn to another pub which serves the needs of this “village” area of Tunbridge Wells. Sited further down the hill, in the direction of the High Street, is the Grove Tavern, a smallish pub with an l-shaped bar. The first thing visible on entering, is a pool table which takes up most of the front bar, a feature I always think is rather off-putting. I also find the pub to be rather cliquey, and although I know quite a few of the people who drink there, I’ve never been overly keen on the place. The Grove ticks all the right boxes with CAMRA though, as it’s a Good Beer Guide regular, and keeps a well-cared for range of Harvey’s Best, Timothy Taylor's plus the odd guest beer or two.

I didn't fancy the Grove Tavern that Friday, so I headed back up the hill and then into the top part of the Grove. I then walked through the park and after crossing the road, found myself in a narrow street, containing a row of well-kept, terraced Victorian terraced houses. A narrow gate, at the far end of the road led into another of Tunbridge Well’s famous green spaces, namely Calverley Grounds, a popular and historic park with attractive lawns, ornamental gardens and welcoming café. During the run-up to Christmas, there is also an ice-rink, located on an area of flat ground, below the Calverley Hotel, now known as the Hotel du Vin. On Friday, the grounds were busy with people, mainly young, out for a stroll.

Time for one more beer before heading for the bus stop. I was in a bit of a hurry to get out of Tunbridge Wells, because come mid to late afternoon, the local schools all spill out at the conclusion of the academic day. There are three or four schools at the St John’s end of Tunbridge Wells and then going through towards Southborough. With hundreds of pupils, spiling out onto the streets at the same time, all pushing, shoving and jostling for space, travelling by bus, during this period is definitely best avoided. I therefore wanted to make sure I was sat on the bus before it got crowded and full of boisterous schoolchildren. They are normally quite well behaved, just a little noisy and excited, especially at the end of the week.

The pub I was making for was the Guinea, in Calverley Road, an establishment that has had a substantial of money thrown at it recently. Formerly known as Guinea Butt, but now just the plain “Guinea”.   I can't remember the last time I visited this town pub, but it must have been a long time ago, and as I stepped inside the first thing that struck me was the large expanses of dark wood. The interior was surprisingly spacious, certainly when compared against the pub’s frontage.

At the bar there were hand pumps for beers from Pig & Porter, alongside Downland, but the ones that caught my eye were dispensed from the T-bar and consisted of several genuine Oktoberfest beers. The bartender was enthusiastic and also very knowledgeable about Oktoberfest and its attendant beers, so we had a brief conversation, about this annual event. I chose the versions from Hacker-Pschorr, which is a slightly darker and more robust brew compared to some of the others. He also mentioned that all the Märzen beers from the festival were now available, at the Guinea, which was another plus point for me.

The pub itself wasn’t overly busy, although there were several parties of “ladies that lunch”, and I obviously chose the wrong area to sit.  I did consider moving away from the closest of these groups, particularly when the topic got around to breastfeeding, who was managing OK and who was having difficulties. It certainly wasn’t your average lunchtime conversation, but at the same time it is a perfectly natural thing, and if one or two group members were having trouble, or just seeking reassurance, then where more natural to talk about it than amongst your peers? (A slightly less public location might have been better, and certainly more discreet!) Moving swiftly on, the beer was very good, and if I hadn’t been rushing to catch that 3pm bus, I almost certainly would have stayed for another.

As I made my way towards the row of bus stops, there were already signs that the school exodus had begun. I didn’t have long to wait for a Tonbridge bound bus, and surprisingly very few school passengers were onboard. The same applied for the journey back to Tonbridge, which was just as well as it allowed me to scoff the reduced, price roast chicken and stuffing sandwich that I'd purchased in M&S. You're not supposed to eat on Arriva buses, but I was on the upstairs deck, and whilst I might have been visible on the vehicle's CCTV, no one said anything. I arrived back in Tonbridge just in time to cross the road and wait for the 219 bus, that would take me up the hill, and back to Bailey Towers.

Mrs PBT's said I should have just looked online, something I actually did in the end, and I’m currently waiting for the jacket to be delivered. However, she didn't quite suss out the logic behind me wanting to visit the town in person. It was the opportunity to visit a few Tunbridge Wells pubs, ones which, with the honourable exception of the Compasses, I wouldn’t normally have set foot in, that made that unsuccessful shopping trip, all the more worthwhile.

A Sonder in Broadstairs

OK, folks, after having set the scene in the last post, it’s time now to reveal the details relating to the six Broadstairs pubs my companions and I visited, but over a week ago. The pubs were all in easy walking distance of one another, and they were all micro-pubs. Our visit was an official CAMRA tour, and for that reason, the beer range, coupled with the availability of some “exotic” brews, appeared to take preference over the pubs themselves. In some ways, this was a shame, as there were several traditional pubs that piqued my interest, notably Neptune’s Hall—a Shepherd Neame owned establishment featured on CAMRA's National Inventory of Historic Pub Interiors.

My previous visit to Neptune’s Hall was during a CAMRA tour of the island with my local branch, where we took advantage of the “hop on-hop off” Rover Tickets valid for the Thanet Loop Line. The latter is a circular bus route that traverses the island in both directions. For the price of a ticket, one could board or disembark at any stop, making it possible, through careful planning, to visit most of the notable pubs in the Thanet area within a day.

I also remember taking young Matthew for a visit to Neptune’s Hall, when he was around 3-4 years of age. We were in Broadstairs for a family wedding, but partway through the church service Matthew was losing interest and began playing up. Getting fidgety, would be an apt description, so I decided to take him out of the church, and nip into the Neptune, which was conveniently close by.

 I didn't see any problem with him coming into the pub with me, and neither it seemed, did he, or the pub’s management, for that matter. I ordered a pint of Master Brew and was just getting stuck into it when another refugee from the wedding appeared. It was Eileen’s brother David who, having seen me disappear, thought he'd come and join me. He didn't really have the excuse that I had, but hey-ho!

As well as Neptune’s Hall, there are several other traditional pubs located near the beach, including The Tartar Frigate, an establishment which I have yet to visit, but intend to in the future. Before moving on to the places we visited, it’s worth noting that I am relying on Untappd for a record of the beers I consumed that day, primarily because I wasn’t taking notes. The same can be said of the pub descriptions, where I have allowed the photos I took, to do the talking.

The first watering hole of the day was the community-focussed, Magnet, situated on the road leading down to seafront. Opened in February 2019, this micropub, is a tribute to The Magnet, a boys’ comic, created in the early days of the 20^th century, by Broadstairs author Frank Richards. With its stories about the boys of Greyfriars School, a fictional public school located somewhere in Kent, the Magnet was definitely a product of its time. Best remembered today for Billy Bunter, a greedy and overweight schoolboy, whose character, leaves little in the way of introduction.

The Magnet’s owners Will and Sam were on duty behind the bar, when we called in, engaging with customers, and helping create that warm and welcoming space, where beer take centre stage. The place was certainly buzzing when we pitched up, shortly after midday. The pub has a reputation for concentrating on Kentish beers, and I enjoyed a pint of XPA (Extra Pale Ale), from Bexley Brewery, plus a half of Blarney Stone, a rich and creamy, Irish Stout from local boys, Gadd’s.  The pub interior is decorated with all sorts of bric-a-brac, including plenty of ironware, of the type that would be attracted to a magnet, but rather than attempt to describe it, the best thing you can do is take a look at the photos.

Moving swiftly on, and just a short distance away, downhill towards the seafront, brought us to the Chapel Bar & Book Shop. This micro-pub is a strange combination of a former, non-conformist chapel and an old-fashioned library. The remains of the 14^th century, St. Mary's Chapel, which are claimed to be the oldest surviving building still standing in Broadstairs, are incorporated into a more modem structure. The latter is furnished, from floor to ceiling, with shelves of old books everywhere one looks, and these extend into the upstairs drinking areas, as well. Whether it works, is open to question, but this cask ale and cider outlet, which opened in August 2012, is still going strong.

The friendly licensee told us the books were on sale for just a pound each, but despite being draw to the myriad of shelves, I couldn’t see anything that took my fancy. This was probably just as well, as Mrs PBT’s and I are currently “de-cluttering “Bailey Towers", and the last thing we need are a load of dusty old books! As far as the beer was concerned, there were two “guest” cask ales on sale, alongside Tonbridge Coppernob – a beer that seems to crop up everywhere.

So, with a choice of Morello Bordello, a 5.3% porter – infused with cherries, by the sound of it, from Frome Brewery, plus Hop Lobster, described as a “hop monster”, from Norwich based Golden Triangle, which one to go for. With the barman advising that the latter was an acquired taste, and cherry-flavoured beers never up there amongst my go-to-drink beers, I played it safe and went for a half of each, a decision that was definitely the right one. Apart from a couple sitting at the bar, we were the only customers in the Chapel, and with a rather strange choice of beers, it was time to move on.

We carried on walking, in a downwards direction, until we came to the seafront. Here we stopped to admire the view out across Viking Bay, and I took several panoramic photos to prove that we’d been there. At the far end of the promenade, it was back up the hill, and past the imposing Charles Dickens, Pub & Restaurant. You just knew that there had to be at least one establishment in Broadstairs named after the iconic, Victorian author, but giving this self-styled, gastropub a miss, we continued up the hill.

Our next halt was the strangely-named Sonder – the name apparently coming from a word that means "the acknowledging of others and having feelings of empathy for them". The pub started life as the Thirty-Nine Steps – see previous post, but changed its name in early 2023, when it came under new management. As well as being renamed the pub received a makeover, and today is a spacious and welcoming corner pub, fitted out in the style of the arts and crafts movement. With a wood panelled ceiling and two large internal arches, Sonder has a bright, airy seaside feel about it, and in my view was the best pub of the day.

When the Thirty-Nine Steps opened in 2017, it was planned to be a brewpub producing beer under the name Town Brewery, but this did not come to fruition. Some high-level external signage, advertising this aborted venture remains, and I have taken the liberty of pinching this photo from the CAMRA website to show this. There are four hand-pumps, and eighteen craft-beer taps at Sonder, and this time around I selected the Miller’s Ale, from Canterbury Ales, followed by Cascade, a single-hop beer from Sussex-based, Downlands Brewery.

Onward, upwards, and then time for a spot of lunch. Earlier that morning, we’d noticed a fish & chip shop, on our walk down towards the seafront. It was one of several in Broadstairs – it is a seaside town, after all, but having made a mental note of the place on the way down, we ended back up at the modestly-named, Best Fish & Chips. We ate in, and the food certainly lived up to its name.  Two of us opted for haddock, whilst the other group member went for cod. All freshly cooked to order, and with decent portion sizes, our meals were satisfying and filling.

We headed back up the hill and towards the station, where the railway themed, Mind the Gap, a straightforward shop conversion, was pub No. 4 on our list. Opened in July 2016, this micropub is on two levels, with a seating area on the ground floor, and a bar counter, with chilled cabinets behind it, on the upper level. Cask ales, ciders and perries are sold on gravity dispense, from the aforementioned cabinets. This type of set up is fairly common with micropubs, and we were to encounter it again, at the next bar. Mind the Gap was a pleasant enough place, but for both me and my companions, was spoiled by the solo, live performer with his guitar, plus box of tricks.

Under the right circumstances, live music in a pub, can be OK, but in this case the pub was far too small, even for a bloke on his own. The performer and his sound system took up half of the bar space, which probably explains why many customers were sitting outside. I am also of the opinion that someone strumming a guitar, whilst the rhythm section (bass, drums and lead guitar), are supplied electronically, is cheating. Some decent finger-picking, to go with the vocals, would have been far more natural, and more honest too, otherwise the performance is little more than glorified karaoke!

Haffen Den, a 4.2% best bitter from McCanns, was my choice of beer, and for those readers who remember my visit to Hukins Hops, at their Haffenden Farm home, just over three years ago, McCanns are the micro-brewery based on the premises. It would have preferred sampling my first pint of McCanns, at a more appropriate location, but we can’t always have everything we want out of life. Consequently, the three of us weren’t sorry to say goodbye to Mind the Gap, which was a shame, as under different circumstances I’m sure it would have been fine. 

 

A short distance west from Mind the Gap, and on the other side of the rail line, was the penultimate pub on our tour. The Royston is a stylish, and multi-award-winning alehouse, decorated in a mix of Victorian, steampunk and art deco themes. As in the previous pub, a showpiece chiller cabinet dispenses four carefully selected local and national cask ales, plus ciders for those who love a drop of fermented apple juice. 

An extensive wines and spirits, selection, plus barista quality coffee, are also available, and in fine weather, there are seats outside. The place was buzzing, when we arrived, and the throng of people in the bar, made it difficult to move. Perhaps the customers were refugees from the place down the road? Although the more likely reason relates to the Royston being voted, Kent Pub of the Year 2025. Despite the crush at the bar, the sartorially dressed manager/owner found time to demonstrate the state-of-the-art lifting gear, used to lift, and the manoeuvre casks into position on the stillages, inside the chiller cabinet. In my professional capacity of company Safety Advisor, this is a pretty cool piece of kit, that eliminates the need for stretching and pulling, when placing casks into position. Beer wise, I opted for a glass of Lightbulb, a hazy but very drinkable New England Pale Ale, from Verdant Brewery.

I was slacking by this time, and it was quite a stroll to the final pub of the day. The Four Candles Alehouse is a corner micropub that appears larger from the outside than it does, once inside. The premises was a hardware store for many years, which led to the shop acting as a prompt for the "Four Candles" sketch written by Ronnie Barker of the Two Ronnies. Although of modest size, the interior is light, bright, and complemented by large windows. This combination attempts to give the pub a sense of space. but there’s no getting away from it being rather cramped. 

The pub brews its own beers, down in the cellar, facilitated by a hatch in the floor, with a hoist above for the delivery of brewing ingredients, as well as for hauling up of casks. According to Untappd, I sampled two of the pub’s house-brewed beers - Session Green Hop Pale 3.6%, my first, and so far, only Green Hop Ale of the season. This was followed by Target Bitter, a darker coloured 4.4%. beer brewed using Target hops.

After leaving the pub, we made our way back to Broadstairs station and the train back to Tonbridge. It had been an interesting day with the chance of catching up with a couple of old friends, but it also afforded the opportunity of a rare visit to this cut-off, and slightly isolated corner of Kent.