The Viper - Mill Green

On my return journey from Norfolk last weekend, I managed to call in at another pub on CAMRA’s National Heritage Register. This time it was the Viper at Mill Green, a few miles from Ingatestone and one of only two pubs in the country to be named after Britain’s sole poisonous snake.

It wasn’t quite a spur of the moment decision to stop there, but having enjoyed my visit to the Cock at Brent Eleigh on the outward journey, I really fancied stopping off somewhere on the trip home. I always think it best to put the bulk of the journey behind oneself when planning such a stop; as that way there is far less driving to undertake afterwards. In addition after a couple of hours in the saddle, one is in need of a break, if only to answer the call of nature; something which seems to get more frequent as one becomes older!

I had a copy of the 2013 Good Beer Guide in the car, and was looking for a pub down towards the bottom half of Essex, close to the M25. I saw the National Inventory listed Viper, at Mill Green on the map, and noticed that it was just off the A12 and close to London’s Orbital Motorway, but the only problem was my road atlas wasn’t exactly the most detailed of maps. I had been staying at dad’s bungalow, where there is no Wi-Fi, plus mobile reception is at best sporadic,  and was cursing the fact that I probably had a much larger scale OS Map of the area sitting on the bookshelf at home.

Fortunately, on the Saturday, I decided to call in for breakfast at the Romany Rye; the Wetherspoon’s outlet in nearby Dereham, and so was able to reconnect with civilisation, as well as doing a spot of research. After my rather satisfying breakfast, I was clicking between WhatPub and Google Maps on my phone in order to map out the best route to Mill Green. By zooming in, I was able to get road names and all the information I required. I wrote the directions down, by which time I was on my third cup of the chain’s strong filter coffee, but I had what I needed, and when on the following day the time came to put the instructions into practice, they worked a treat.

I have reached the conclusion though that a Sat-Nav would make life a lot easier, even though I have always shied away from the idea of electronic navigation aids. However, it’s not a good idea trying to read directions whilst driving along; let alone trying to navigate off a map! Such a device would also come into its own when I’ve got the family with me, as none of them seem capable of reading a map

I said goodbye to dad just after half eleven on Sunday morning and set off down the A11 and M11. I left the latter at the junction prior to the M25 and headed east towards Chelmsford. The A414 isn’t the best of roads, but it did take me through some pleasant villages on the edge of Epping Forest. The rest of my directions worked a treat and just after 2pm I was pulling up at the car park opposite the Viper.
 
I thought I had missed the Viper at at first, because I noticed another fine looking pub, called the Cricketers, on my right as I drove into Mill Green. On the return journey I saw that the Cricketers belonged to Gray & Sons of Chelmsford; a family firm who stopped brewing in 1974, just as CAMRA was starting to get going. Grays are still independent, but for the past 40 years have operated as a pub-owning company, buying in their beers from a variety of other family brewers.

I digress. The Viper is situated on the edge of a wood. It is a white-painted building, which appears to be a pair of 19th Century cottages knocked into one. Extensions added to the left-and-right mean the Viper is now a four-room pub, but given the fact my visit was on a busy Sunday lunchtime, I didn’t get the chance to investigate the room at the far right. The right hand half of the pub is obviously the posh part; as evidenced by the notice requesting walkers in muddy boots to use the left hand section of the building. It was here that I parked myself at a small table in the equally small "tap room" which occupies the centre left of the pub. Service here is via a door which doubles up as a hatch.
This suited me fine and I enjoyed the feel of the simply furnished room, which I shared with a family and their dog. What is described as the "public bar" on the far left, but on Sunday it was being used by a number of family groups. According to English Heritage, it became part of the pub later than the rest of the building.

There were five cask beers on offer, with Brentwood, Mighty Oak and Nethergate all providing a brew each. There were also two beers badged as “Viper Ales”; and these were VIPA (Viper IPA) at 3.5% ABV, plus the stronger Jake the Snake at 4.5%. I opted for a pint of the latter, and found it pale, well-hopped and just what was needed following a long drive. Apparently, Viper Ales are brewed by Nethergate and Mighty Oak, but I am not sure what brewery produces which ale.

I had only ordered a cheese sandwich, as I knew my wife had a stew on the go, in the slow cooker, waiting for me when I got home. It was a decent sandwich though, with chunky slices of bread, some nice strong mature Cheddar in the middle and some crisps and salad to go with it.

I only stayed for the one beer, but I have to say I was very taken with the Viper, its setting, its unspoilt plain interior and its friendly and efficient staff. It is hard to believe the pub is so close to both London and major transport links, as it seems a world away. It would be nice to return for a more leisurely visit; ideally after a walk in the woods.

I re-traced my route back through Ingatestone and then onto the A12. Forty-five minutes later I was back home, after a tiring, but enjoyable and most rewarding weekend.

The Cock - Brent Eleigh

As mentioned in a previous post, last weekend I visited two pubs on CAMRA’s National Heritage Register. The first of these was the Cock at Brent Eleigh, in the south-western corner of Suffolk. I managed a brief stop there on my journey up to Norfolk, where I spent a couple of days visiting my father.

My usual route to this part of East Anglia  is via the M25 and M11 motorways, followed by a long slog up the A11. The latter road is now finally dual-carriageway all the way to Norwich, but it is still very monotonous. I therefore occasionally travel via the A12 and A14 trunk roads, before heading directly north along the A140 towards Norwich. The latter is not the best road either, with speed restrictions, and cameras, along much of the road, but on this occasion it provided the most direct route after I had visited the aforementioned Cock.

I won’t bore you further with the details of my entire journey, but I navigated my way to Brent Eleigh after making what the Americans would euphemistically describe as a “comfort stop” in the pleasant Suffolk town of Sudbury, just over the border from Essex.

The Cock is an attractive thatched and pink-rendered wayside inn which dates back to the 18th-century. The pub still retains its two room and off sales layout. The main bar  is on the left and is accessed from a corner door. There is a quarry tiled floor, a 1930s brick fireplace with a coal fire (complete with dog laying stretched out in front of it), and seating consists of two basic bare benches, an assortment of chairs and a few bar stools. Apart from a few changes which took place in 1976, the interior remains pretty much the same as it has been for decades. The main alteration was the replacement of a serving hatch by the present  bar counter and the installation of the bar back shelves.

The timeless "Old Bar"

The smaller "old bar" is on the right, and has its own front door; but it can also be accessed via a narrow door from the main bar. Like the main bar, there is a quarry tiled floored room, a low tongue and groove panelled ceiling and some old wooden panelling around the room. There is an old bench on the right near the servery and a small shelf to rest your drinks. A large scrubbed table forms the centre-piece of the room.

I arrived at the Cock shortly after 3pm; its distinctive pink exterior standing out against the surrounding country side which was looking rather drab at this time of year. After parking the car, I crossed the road to take few photos, before the light began to fade, and then made my way into the main bar of the pub. There were a handful of regulars, sat around a large table, plus the odd dog, but there were also a couple of seats next to the bar. An old-fashioned cabinet-type, bank of hand-pumps, was attached to the opposite wall, with three cask beers on offer. The choice was Adnam’s Southwold Bitter, Greene King Abbot, plus a guest ale, whose name escapes me. I ordered a pint of Adnam’s, which at just £3.10 a pint, represented good value.

It was in excellent condition as well, and as glasses were re-filled, I noticed that practically everyone was drinking it. I did see one pint of Abbot ordered, slightly more expensive at £3.40, but I like Adnam’s, and at 3.7% ABV, one pint was not going to put me over the limit. The bar started to fill up during the half hour or so I was there, and I counted a dozen people there, including myself. The banter seemed friendly and good-humoured, but as it was of a slightly personal nature, I decided against joining in.

A visit to the Gents

I asked the landlord if I could have a look in the adjoining bar, which was reached through a small door, just behind where I was sitting. "Of course", was his reply and I was rewarded by the sight of an empty, but totally unspoilt traditional old bar and was able to take a few photos.

I only stayed for the one, but just before I left I enquired as to the whereabouts of the toilets. I had an inkling they were outside, and this was confirmed by the landlord who remarked that “Inside toilets are unhygienic!” Mission accomplished, I bid my farewells to this timeless old pub. I can strongly recommend a visit, and if you want to linger rather longer than I was able to, the Cock offers Bed and breakfast accommodation in a building at rear of pub. I also understand that the home-cooked food is very good.

The Cock is situated on the not terribly busy A1141, which runs down from Lavenham to Hadleigh. Alternatively, you can do what I did and follow your nose up from Sudbury; a route which takes you through some charming villages. The villages on the route I took northward, after leaving the pub, are if anything even more charming with Chelsworth and Bildeston absolute gems. Just don’t try arguing with a fully-laden grain lorry!

"Roast beef on Sundays, all right!"

In something of a shock move, pub chain JD Wetherspoon have announced the scrapping of their traditional Sunday lunch roast dinners. According to press reports, the Sunday Club roast dinner section has already been removed from the company’s website, but today my local JDW outlet in Tonbridge, the Humphrey Bean, was still advertising Sunday roasts.

The pub chain announced the decision to drop the Sunday staple meal as customers opt for more "fashionable fare" such as Mexican food and curries. Wetherspoon’s will concentrate instead on pub classics such as fish and chips, pies and sausage and mash, alongside more contemporary offerings such as burgers, hot dogs, ribs and wraps. This will enable the company to focus on the range of items on its all-day, "core" menu.

There are around 950 Wetherspoon’s outlets in the UK, and the chain has sold roasts for the last 15 years; offering meal deals as low as £6.59, normally with an alcoholic drink thrown in. Many customers were disappointed to hear the news, but a spokesman for the company, which has food sales of around £800 million per year, insisted the decision, was not taken as a result of plummeting sales. Despite this, he confirmed that the last roast dinner will be served this coming Sunday March 6th, Mothering Sunday, as the firm “just don’t want to do it anymore”.

There is obviously more to this decision than this throw-away remark, with cost-cutting and streamlining of the whole operation the most likely reasons. As a number of commentators have pointed out, there is a problem associated with Sunday Roast of keeping the food at a perfect condition to be served, throughout the period of service which, in Wetherspoon’s case, can often be several hours.

Others have claimed that the chain recently changed over from carved freshly cooked joints to pre cooked and sliced packet meats which, although would have made a reasonable sandwich, are no good when it comes to a proper roast dinner. I have noticed the use of frozen roast potatoes, as well as frozen (and under-cooked) vegetables, and many have gone so far as to accuse the firm of “penny pinching".

In contrast, there is very little waste with the rest of the Wetherspoon’s menu as it's all “ring and ping”. Food is pre-cooked and then held for up to three days when it is popped in the microwave and warmed for service Place your order for a burger and 6 minutes later there it is!

I have eaten a number of Wetherspoon’s roasts over the years; although I doubt that number reached into double figures. Nevertheless, like many customers, I will be sorry to see this traditional Sunday staple disappear. I would imagine too that farmers and meat suppliers are also rather concerned by the axing of a dish which many people still regard as part of the traditional British Sunday.
 
"Roast beef on Sundays, all right". From the Kinks' 1967 Top Twenty Hit,. "Autumn Almanc"; a song which encapsulates many quintessential things about English life.

Images are from the JDW website.

A New Challenge

I was away in Norfolk again at the weekend, and I’m pleased to report that my father has settles in well in the care home and is comfortable with his new surroundings and his fellow residents. Despite his Alzheimer’s he not only recognised me, but was genuinely pleased to see me.

As you can imagine, knowing that dad is being well cared for is of great comfort to my two sisters and I  expect  to carry on making regular visits to see him. One thing which doesn’t get any easier though is the journey up to Norfolk and back. I feel that I know every inch of both the M11 and the A11, and whilst on a good run I can accomplish the journey in just over two and a half hours, it is a tiring and rather monotonous trip.

Now that I am no longer bound by time constraints, I have decided to vary my route and, where possible, include the odd pub stop on the way. On previous trips I have visited the Green Dragon at Wymondham and the Chequers Inn at Thompson; both of which are listed on CAMRA’s Pub Heritage Website of Historic Pub Interiors, so I considered this to be a good selection criteria for future pub stops. I noticed though that the Green Dragon has a “Blue Star” listing, whilst the Chequers has just a “Yellow Star”. The former indicates “an historic pub interior of regional importance.”, whilst the latter signifies “an historic pub interior of some regional importance.” Pubs with “an historic pub interior of national importance”, qualify for a “Red Star”, on the site.

Now I wrote several years ago that I thought this was nit-picking; and the input here of English Heritage and their almost fanatical pursuit of architectural perfection hasn’t helped matters, but in some ways the rather strict guidelines set by CAMRA and EH have helped in my latest slightly obsessional quest. Some people set themselves the target of visiting every pub listed in the current CAMRA Good Beer Guide; others decide to visit every Red Lion in the country. Football fans will try and visit the nearest pub to every Football League ground, and cricket fans will do similar by visiting pubs close to each county ground. 

As I am still gainfully employed, and have a limited amount of annual leave, I thought something a little less arduous would suffice. So without setting any timescale I have decided to visit every pub in England (other parts of the United Kingdom may follow later), with a  “Red Star” listing on the Heritage Pub Website; in other words every pub with an historic interior of national importance.

I haven’t totalled them all up yet. The National Inventory Website states there are 275, but is unclear as to whether this includes blue and yellow star entries as well. Looking through the list there are quite a few which I have already been to, but I also notice that there concentrations of entries in certain areas, with Greater London topping the list. Certain counties do much better than others; for example there are five pubs listed in Suffolk, but none at all in Surrey.

I clocked off two “Red Star” pubs this weekend; one on the outward journey and one on the return. The first was in Suffolk, whilst the second was in Essex and surprisingly close to London.

I intend to write about both in a subsequent post, but in the meantime if anyone has any tips or recommendations as to the best way to approach this task, then please get in touch.

The Chiddingstones - Part One

Part One- Chiddingstone Causeway

Dukes Factory- Chiddingstone Causeway

For the past 10 years I have worked for a company which specialises in the manufacture of dental materials. The firm is based in the village of Chiddingstone Causeway; a small settlement about 6 miles west of Tonbridge. The village is a relatively modern one which sprung up around Penshurst station, on the Tonbridge to Redhill line. One of the quirks of the Victorian railway era was that many stations were often several miles from the places they were named after.

Penshurst is no exception, with the village being some two miles or so away, but it is worth noting that the station was originally built to provide rail access to Penshurst Place; ancestral home of the Sidney family, and one of the most complete surviving examples of 14th-century domestic architecture in England.

The settlement which grew up next to the station became known as Chiddingstone Causeway. The “Causeway” part of the name is thought to refer to the route across boggy ground towards Sevenoaks, whilst the first part comes from the nearby village of Chiddingstone; a much older settlement which dates back at least to Anglo-Saxon times, and possibly before.

There is also a small hamlet called Chiddingstone Hoath, which is about two miles to the south of Chiddingstone village. The three settlements are known collectively as “The Chiddingstones”; a name which is also the title of the local Parish Magazine.

Winter scene- Little Brown Jug

The initial settlements which grew up around Penshurst station, were those connected with the transport of rich and famous visitors to Penshurst Place. Before long these businesses developed into shipping firms, set up to transport farm goods to the towns via the railway, and soon after a number of other small businesses sprung up.

The most famous of these was the firm of Duke and Sons, who started to make cricket bats and balls in the 1860's; initially for Penshurst Place but then, due to the proximity of the railway, to sell further afield. When I started with my present firm, the former premises of Duke and Sons, housed the company offices, but in late 2008 these were relocated to the main manufacturing site across the road. A row of new cottages now occupies the site.

Because of the increase in population a church was built of corrugated iron but in 1898, as congregations increased in size, an attractive stone church was erected towards the crest of the hill, and dedicated to St Luke. Nowadays the village consists mostly of housing, a few local businesses, of which my company is the largest, plus a shop and post office. There is also a pub in the village, and as this blog is primarily about beer, the local hostelry is well worth a mention.

The pub started life as the Station Tavern; an appropriate name given its location directly opposite the station. It is an attractive late 19th Century building which despite being enlarged over the years, still retains much of its original character. For most of the last century, the pub traded under this name until it was bought by a jazz and big-band enthusiast and renamed the Little Brown Jug, after the well-known Glen Miller tune.

By the time I moved to the local area, the pub had been the Little Brown Jug for quite a number of years. The big-band enthusiast landlord was called Don, but that is all I remember of him.  As far as I recall the Jug was a Charrington’s house, and back then, it still had two bars. A change of management, in the later 1980’s, saw it dramatically increased in size, with new kitchens, a function room and even bed and breakfast accommodation added.


The new owner was a shrewd businessman called Charlie Cannon. He was a nice chap with a genuine interest in “real ale”, which obviously endeared him to the local CAMRA branch (myself included), but more tangibly saw a wide range of different cask ales being sold at the pub. One evening, Charlie gave a group of us a tour of his cellar; such was his pride in the beer he sold at the Jug.

Sometime towards the end of the 90’s, Charlie received an offer he couldn’t refuse, so he sold up and moved on. I think it was around this time that Greene King appeared on the scene. The extensive range of interesting beers was replaced by standard GK offerings and the pub fell out of favour with the local CAMRA branch, and generally off the radar altogether.

In the summer of 2006, I started work at my present company, and gradually renewed my acquaintance with the Little Brown Jug. Further alterations were made to the pub, with the B&B accommodation converted into additional dining space. It opened in its most recent incarnation in February 2007, and I must say the design team did a pretty good job on it. Although tied to Greene King, the Jug is owned a company called Whiting & Hammond, who operate a small chain of food-oriented pubs in this part of the county. The beer is still standard GK stuff, but local favourite Larkin’s Traditional is stocked, and is probably the pub’s best selling cask beer – certainly amongst the locals!
 

Walk across the old airfield

I've obviously known the pub over the years, especially as it's easy to reach by train, but despite walking past it most lunchtimes it’s not that often I call in. I am not a fan of lunchtime drinking these days; especially when I am working, but the Jug has been the venue for several memorable company Christmas meals, and it’s something of a tradition to pop in for a few beers when we close for business at lunchtime on Christmas Eve. The pub is also the obvious place for entertain customers, and I have been fortunate to partake of quite a few excellent lunches there.

If you walk up the hill from the Little Brown Jug, you will come to a tarmac footpath, on the same side of the road and just past the church. This will take you across an old World War II airfield to the Greyhound pub, situated in the tiny hamlet of Charcott.

The Greyhound is a pleasant bright and breezy local, with views across the fields towards the hills that form the start of the High Weald. It has a separate restaurant area, as like many country pubs these days it relies heavily on the food trade. There still seems to be three distinct areas in the main part of the pub, although the divisions that marked the former bars are long gone. During the winter months, open fires supplement the central heating.

The Greyhound is close to my workplace, and I often walk by during my lunch break noting the substantial number cars parked outside. The other day, I noticed Harvey’s Best, Tonbridge Copper Knob and a Westerham beer on sale, but the Greyhound has also featured Otter beers in the past. There is a secluded garden to the left of the pub, plus benches and tables directly outside.

Both pubs are easy to reach for those not fortunate to either live or work in the village. Penshurst station is just two stops from Tonbridge, on the line out to Redhill, and there are also buses from Tunbridge Wells.

Robertsbridge - East Sussex

Robertsbridge High Street

My friend Eric and I hadn’t intended to go to Robertsbridge, yesterday. Our original plan was to travel one stop further down the line to the town of Battle, where we had earmarked a couple of pubs to visit. Eric had been to the Bull, back in the summer, so it looked like a good option, and we also intended to visit the George as well.

The town of Battle grew up around the Abbey, which was erected on the site of the most famous battle in English history, by the victor, Duke William of Normandy. On 14th October 1066, the area witnessed the most celebrated confrontation to take place on English soil – the Battle of Hastings; an event so significant it completely changed the course of English history.

Following the battle William the Conqueror built Battle Abbey, as a penance ordered by the Pope for the loss of life incurred in the conflict. Today, Battle is a thriving market town featuring Georgian and medieval cottages amongst a host of interesting shops, restaurants, historic pubs and tea-rooms.

Battle Abbey

It seemed the ideal place to visit and with easy access by direct train from Tonbridge, we could be there in just under 40 minutes. Ideal, that is, until Network Rail placed a weekend closure on the line between nearby Robertsbridge and Hastings, in order to carry out essential engineering works. Eric had phoned me the previous day, to report the bad news so we agreed to each investigate other possibilities and then report back.

I looked at several options, but as well as somewhere with a decent pub (or pubs) serving good beer, I wanted a place which offered reasonably-priced food; something not always readily available on a Saturday evening. Quite independently we both decided on Robertsbridge; one stop nearer to home, and the place where trains would be terminating and the rail-replacement buses would be taking over.

We had noticed the village supports two pubs; with a third currently closed. The Ostrich Hotel, virtually opposite the station, looked the best bet so far as the reasonably-priced food was concerned, but the George Inn in the centre of the village, also looked worthy of closer inspection.

Robertsbridge is a large village which dates back to the 12th Century, when a Cistercian Abbey was founded there. The latter was dissolved in 1538, on the orders of that well-know Tudor vandal, Henry VIII, but the town continued to prosper and today contains some attractive half-timbered cottages and other buildings dating from the 14th and 15th Centuries. The opening of the London to Hastings Railway, in 1851, brought further prosperity to the town, and the completion of a bypass in 1992, removed much of the traffic which had been choking the town.

We caught the 16:29 train from Tonbridge, travelling down through the attractive countryside of this part of the Sussex Weald, and arrived in the village just before 17:10. After confirming the departure times for the return journey, we walked across the road to the Ostrich Hotel, which shone out like a friendly and welcoming beacon against the gathering dusk.

Ostrich - Main Bar

The Ostrich Hotel opened in 1851, following the completion of the railway from London. The name is derived from the coat of arms on its sign, which are those of the lordship of the Manor of Robertsbridge.  It is a comfortable pub with a large “L”-shaped bar and separate games room and restaurant. There is also an upstairs function room. The walls are adorned with an assortment of paintings, prints and other pieces from the landlord’s collection, and there are some rather saucy Edwardian prints in the gent’s toilets. (I gather there are some in the Ladies as well). With a number of comfortable old sitting chairs, the place had the feel of a 1920’s sitting room

Harvey’s Sussex Best and GK Old Speckled Hen were the two cask beers on offer, and I also spotted the Curious Brew lager, which I wrote about last week, available on keg. There was a group of walkers sat around one of the tables; we almost tripped over their boots which were stacked just inside the door!

Ostrich - Games Room

The Harvey’s was in excellent condition, and after quizzing the friendly barmaid about the availability of meals, the landlord, who is also the chef, came over for a chat. Fish is the speciality of the house; sourced locally from Hastings fish market, and his suggestions were either halibut or sea bass; both of which he’d procured that very morning. He particularly recommended the former, which neither of us could remember having tried before. We told him of our plans to try the George Inn up the road, but confirmed we would definitely be returning to eat later, and would make our menu choices then.

We had already decided not to dine at the George, having previously on-line at the menu options for both pubs. Prices at the George were around 50% higher than the Ostrich, but we set off anyway, just o give the pub a try. We walked up the narrow road, which leads from the station, to the High Street, and turned right towards the George, which we could just see at the end of the road.

The George is an imposing red tiled fronted building which, before the coming of the railway, was formerly a coaching inn. The pub dates from the 18th-century, and as expected has plenty of low beams. The bar area occupies the far right of the building, and most of the drinkers were gathered here in front of the warming inglenook fireplace. There are views from the bar, back down the High Street with the distinctive War Memorial clock tower, erected in 1926, featuring prominently just across the green.  Most of the interior though was given over to dining, and although there were plenty of tables laid out for dinner, none were occupied.

Beer-wise Harvey’s Sussex Best and Dark Star APA were available, but unfortunately the latter had run out, just as we arrived. We went for the Harvey’s again, even though the landlord said Tonbridge Rustic was about to come on. The Sussex Best was, if anything, even better than in the Ostrich. The landlady was quite chatty, but the locals were all busy engaged in their own conversations. We both liked the George, more than we thought we would, but as we were getting hungry, we headed off back down to the Ostrich.

George Inn - interior

We had missed out on the halibut, as in our absence there had been an influx of diners. Instead we each ordered an item off the lunchtime menu, which was still available. I opted for pie of the day, whilst my companion went for an omelette. We stood chatting at the bar until our food was ready and we were ushered in to the restaurant. My steak, ale and mushroom pie was a real homemade job, and a “proper pie” at that, with the filling completely encased in pastry. With new potatoes, green peas and carrots, plus a small jug of gravy to go with it, I was well set up. Eric’s omelette looked equally good.

We returned to the bar after our meal, and continued our pre-dinner conversation with one of the pub regulars plus, when he could spare the odd moment, the landlord. The latter told us he had bought the Ostrich from the owning brewery, back in the mid 1990’s, and described the establishment as a “proper pub”. It certainly is a good, old-fashioned sort of pub, of the type both of us remember with affection from our youth. We chatted briefly about the potential re-opening of the Rother-Valley branch line up to Tenterden, and also about the Seven Stars.

The latter is a 14th Century at the opposite end of the village to the George. It is a Harvey’s tied pub, which makes its current closure all the more strange, but there was talk of high rents and equally high business rates. Perhaps in today’s changing times, there just isn’t sufficient trade in a village the size of Robertsbridge, to support three pubs.

Interestingly, the locality boasts a further pub in the nearby hamlet of Salehurst. The Salehurst Halt is a traditional family run pub, popular with walkers and locals. It is adjacent to a disused railway halt on the aforementioned Rother-Valley rail line. The local sitting at the bar, had recommended it to us earlier, and had claimed it was only a 15 minute walk. A look at the map suggests it might have been a bit further, but we were happy with the two pubs visited that night, and will save a walk out to Salehurst for the hours of daylight, and also for the warmer weather.

We caught the 21:14 train back to Tonbridge; well-fed and suitably refreshed. We were glad that Network Rail had scuppered our original plans, but we will make the trip out to Battle before too long. We will also be returning to Robertsbridge and its two excellent pubs.

TW3 -That Was the Week that Wasn't!

TW3 – That Was the Week that Was; a satirical comedy programme, first aired on the BBC. Fronted by the late Sir David Frost, TW3 broke new ground for British comedy by poking fun at politicians and establishment figures. I was only seven years old at the time, so I don’t remember it. I don’t remember my parents watching it either, although they may well have done, as I suspect the programme went out long after my sister and I were tucked up in our beds.

All this is irrelevant really apart from using the acronym to describe the past week; the exception being that instead of the week that WAS, it was the week that WASN’T!

I spent a frustrating week trying to put a trip to Germany together, on behalf of a small group of local CAMRA members; only to see it all untangle on Thursday afternoon. I don’t want to say too much here, apart from the fact that I learnt a few things, and also learnt how NOT to organise such a trip, but all is not lost and there may be the opportunity to re-schedule something for later in the year.

Having a busy work schedule didn’t help matters, and whilst there has been quite a lot to write about recently, there has not been sufficient time for any serious blogging. There are nevertheless a few things I would like to share, which I may find time to expand on later, but for now it’s worth mentioning the following:

A mid-week CAMRA Meeting, at two pubs within walking distance of my workplace is certainly worthy of a post; as will be today’s outing with my friend Eric, across the border into deepest Sussex. Continuing the Sussex theme, I am still working on my piece about the legendary Bonfire Night Celebrations which take place in the ancient town of Lewes, every November 5^th. I’ve also been making inroads into the beers left over from Christmas, discovering along the way one of the best Christmas Ales I’ve had in a long time, but also being rather disappointed with another.

Other matters are also conspiring to eat into my writing, especially as I will be away for the following two weekends. The first trip will see me driving back up to Norfolk, to visit my father. I’ll also take the opportunity to catch up with my sister, who lives nearby. I strongly expect there will be one or two pubs visited over the course of the weekend, but my main objective is to see how dad is getting on now that he has settled in at the care home.

The weekend after will see me flying off to Barcelona for three days. The city will be holding its annual Beer Festival; now in its 7^th year I believe. There is a real burgeoning beer scene in the Catalonia region of Spain, and whilst we caught a brief glimpse of it during our visit in December 2014, it will be exciting to experience it at first hand, in all its full-on, in your face glory.

I haven’t a clue what the weather will be like there at the beginning of March, and it doesn’t really matter as I will be under cover most of the time. However, the city’s Maritime Museum, which hosts the event, is close to the seafront, so it would be nice to spill out into the open and enjoy some al fresco drinking.

Well that’s all until tomorrow. I must now hurry down to the station and meet my friend for a light evening’s drinking in Sussex. Cheers for now.