"Beer Burnout"

The end of the year is fast approaching and once again I find myself in a rather reflective mood. I will save the summary of “My Year in Beer” until January, but picking up on a recent blog theme, I see that I’m not the only one who’s feeling a bit jaded.

Over at Total Ales, Matt Curtis was complaining about “beer fatigue”, as it seems that sometimes you CAN have too much of a good thing. Well no shit Sherlock, but I’m not talking about over-indulgence here, and neither was Matt. I know what he was talking about, as I’ve experienced the same thing myself on several occasions in the past.

“Beer fatigue” is what happens when you no longer find beer enjoyable. You don’t dislike, but you do feel that it’s not giving you the same pleasure it once did. I found that these episodes usually coincided with my return from a foreign holiday, where I’d been drinking some fantastic beers. Back on home turf, I would find much of the local beer tasting dull and un-interesting; especially in comparison to what I had been drinking whilst away.

These episodes generally lasted a week or so, but sometimes a little longer. They always pass though, along with the mood associated with them. Personally I feel the term “beer burnout” is a more accurate description, and this I think has been Matt’s problem. On his own admission, he has spent much of the past year travelling extensively; primarily to major beer destinations where he obviously got to drink some truly amazing beers.

Coming back to Blighty is like coming back down to earth with a huge bump and “beer burnout” is pretty much inevitable. Matt even went on to say that after drinking all these world class beers, he didn’t think the majority of British beer is good enough to compete.

It took a response from veteran blogger Tandleman, to put things in perspective when he said, “As you get further along the beer journey you realise that the perfect beer, or even the next great beer, is just a will o' the wisp. Beer’s for enjoying and drinking.” I couldn’t agree more, as it seems that many beer lovers become so caught up in the “thrill of the chase”; that search for the elusive holy-grail of a “supreme” beer, that they miss out on what’s available on the way – often right in front of their noses.

As you get older you appreciate that life is much more about the journey than it is about the final destination. If you rush to get somewhere, without taking time to see and enjoy what’s available along the way, you will inevitably miss out on much of what life has to offer. This applies as much to beer as it does to life in general, but is often lost on the new generation of beer enthusiasts because of their rush to move onto the next “in thing.”

A post I wrote, back in September, made the point that like the Emperor’s New Clothes, devotees of the new, the novel and the downright bizarre, will sooner or later get tired and will inevitably end up suffering from “beer burnout.” Tandleman is right; beer is for drinking and enjoying. It is essentially a long drink best enjoyed in the company of friends or like minded individuals, and whilst beers at the cutting edge of what’s possible in a brewery will always have their place, the pursuit of something different, just for the sake of it, is a road which will eventually lead to nowhere.

By writing this I don’t wish to denigrate, in any way, the enthusiasm of the younger generation of beer enthusiasts in their pursuit of beer excellence. On the contrary I admire their keenness and zeal. I can remember acting with much the same sense of urgency in my desire to sample as many of the UK’s remaining cask beers, when I first discovered the delights of “real ale”.

I though am much further along the beer journey, described so succinctly by Tandleman, and I have learnt to savour the moment, rather than rushing on to try the next new beer, or the latest “in thing.” The younger generation will find this out for themselves, and my message to them is this doesn’t mean the end of trying to push the boundaries of beer. Instead you will find yourself appreciating beer all the more, and even beers you might consider as dull and boring, can have their place, given the right context or occasion.

To finish on a high note, Matt Curtis made the point, in his post, about the inherent value in a beer's “sense of place.” This is something I whole-heartedly agree with, as there is nothing quite like enjoying a world classic beer on its home patch. To use just a handful of examples, a nicely chilled glass of fresh, unpasteurised Pilsner Urquell, served up in the cavernous beer hall-cum-restaurant attached to the brewery in the city of Plzen takes some beating; even though I can enjoy the virtually the same beer in bottled form from my local supermarket.

Similarly, whilst I have a couple of bottles downstairs of the excellent Aecht Schlenkerla Märzen; Bamberg’s finest "smoke beer", I doubt they will taste anywhere near as good as the two Seidla’s (half litre glasses) I enjoyed, of the same beer, in the city’s wondrously unspoilt Schlenkerla Tavern, back in June 2015. 

Finally, a mug of Harvey’s perfectly balanced Sussex Best Bitter, freshly drawn straight from a cask, and served with its characteristic loose head, in the public bar of the Cricketers at Berwick, nestling in the shadow of the South Downs, is another of life’s pleasures, but this time much closer to home. The same beer, served up in one of Tonbridge’s pubs, somehow isn’t quite the same. All these examples surely represent the very pinnacle of beer enjoyment, and are for me what makes travelling and beer hunting such a joy.

Sun, Sea and Sand in the Maldives

Sun, sea & sand

I have several posts that I’ve written recently, which haven’t been published  because they’re awaiting appropriate photos. I wrote a while back about the importance of illustrating a post with decent and high quality photos, which are relevant to the subject being discussed, so until the opportunity arises to get out and take a few shots, these posts will remain under wraps.

In the meantime, here’s an old article I came across the other day, whilst tidying up my growing number of Word documents. It’s about a holiday I took, nine years ago, to the Maldives. I’m not sure why I originally wrote it, although I do remember publishing a much truncated version on Trip Advisor. There is very little mention of beer in the post, but as this blog is as much about travel, as it is about beer, I thought it worthy of seeing the light of day.

Read on and see what you think, particularly if you’ve always fancied getting away from it all and relaxing in that special place in the sun.

Taking it easy

In March 2007 I spent a most enjoyable and relaxing week in the Maldives. This holiday followed a very stressful six months period where I was working full-time in a new job, whilst at the same time running my existing Off-Licence along with trying to find a buyer for the business. Although we received a firm offer for the shop in October 2006, it took a further four months for the various solicitors to sort out the legal side of things. There was a lease involved, which for us had to be wound up, whilst a new one agreed for the ingoing tenants. The business itself also had to be sold – goodwill, turn-over etc, the stock valued and the new owners briefed and trained on the various aspects of running the shop. I had hoped to complete the sale by Christmas but hadn’t planned on our solicitor disappearing for practically the whole of December! (Nice work if you can get it!)

Tropical sunset

A recently retired friend agreed to manage the shop during the day whilst I was at work. However, I still had to work evenings and weekends, manage all the ordering and make frequent trips to the Cash and Carry to purchase stock etc. Looking back I’m not sure how I managed it, but somehow I did, and by the end of January the sale was complete. We were absolved from our responsibilities under the lease, and after paying our legal fees and those charged by the business transfer agents for finding our buyer and selling the actual business, we were left with a bit of money in the bank. Not much money mind you, but at least we hadn’t lost on the affair.

A holiday was definitely in order and a lazy relaxing one at that. The Maldives seemed to fit the bill perfectly. One of my regular customers had holidayed there on several occasions and although he and his family were keen scuba-divers, he thoroughly recommended it as a place for just chilling out. as well.

Equator Village

Even whilst I was waiting for the sale to go through I had been searching on-line for the best deals to the Maldives. I found that unlike most of the other holidays I have arranged, the Maldives is one place where you really have to book a package, rather than trying to arrange the flights and accommodation separately. I had a budget figure in mind but found it quite difficult finding a package that fitted the bill. Eventually I secured what I was looking for through First Choice Holidays, but although I was online at the time it was necessary to speak to one of the company’s advisers by phone, in order to complete the booking.

The helpful lady at the other end of the line sorted me out an all inclusive package to a resort called Equator Village on the Island of Gan, in Addu Atoll. A quick look at the map revealed that this is about as far south as you can get and still be in the Maldives. The rep had already told me that I would be crossing the Equator, so that sounded worthwhile in itself. We agreed dates, she confirmed the price, I confirmed my credit card details and that was it. I had just over a month to wait before departing for seven days of sun, sea and sand.

Reception

The big day eventually dawned and I made my way to Gatwick leaving plenty of time to catch my early evening departure. The Monarch Airbus A330 plane was full, but left on time. Ahead was a 10 hour flight through the night, arriving at around 10am local time, but five in the morning by my reckoning! Fortunately, after the in-flight meal and in-flight film – Casino Royale, I fell asleep. When I was awakened for breakfast, at what by reckoning was three o’clock in the morning, sunlight was streaming in through the cabin windows, heralding the bright tropical day that lay ahead.

A couple of hours later the captain announced that we would shortly be making our approach to Male Airport. Male is the capital of the Maldives, but the international airport, which is the main entry and exit point for visitors to the islands, lies a mile or so off the coast on what is totally re-claimed land. It was hazy as we made our approach, so I didn’t see that much, but after making a faultless landing, our plane taxied back to the terminal and after the aircraft came to a halt we got ready to disembark.

Took my chances on a big jet plane.............

The first thing that struck me on exiting the aircraft was the extreme heat. Having left a damp and rather cold England behind, I wasn’t prepared for either the heat or the humidity. After disembarking we walked across to the main terminal which, thankfully, was air-conditioned. Our passports were stamped by a rather scary-looking immigration officer, and after that it was across to baggage reclaim.  It seemed to take ages for my suitcase to appear on the carousel, and I was beginning to think that it had not been loaded on the plane, when thankfully it turned up. After that it was through customs. We had been warned that it was prohibited to bring certain items into the Maldives. The list included alcohol (the Maldives is a Muslim country), drugs (that went without saying) and pornography – but their definition of pornography also includes most so-called “lads magazines”, as well as anything remotely “hard-core”.

As I had none of these items in my case I was not too concerned, and more to the point was not picked out to be searched anyway. Once through to the arrivals hall I spotted a man carrying a card bearing my name. “Mr Bailey, please come this way quickly”, he said “your transfer flight is waiting to depart”. Having just passed through arrivals, my guide hurried me back to departures. Fortunately it was only domestic departures, but he was correct, the twin-engine, propeller-driven plane was due to depart shortly. What followed was a piece of amusement, as after my main suitcase had been weighed and checked in, I was instructed to step onto the scales, complete with my hand baggage, to be weighed as well! After that, it was up the steps and onto the plane.

Never let them tell you that they're all the same.........

It was a 90 minute flight to Gan, and as I had a window seat I was rewarded with spectacular views of the hundreds of small, coral islands that make up the Maldives. The slight haze, and the high altitude for such a small plane, spoiled the view slightly, but as we approached our destination and came in low over the palm trees, I could see just what a tropical paradise awaited me. As I mentioned earlier, Gan is situated south of the Equator, so before landing, we were each handed a certificate to commemorate our crossing.

For many years, the island of Gan was home to the Royal Air Force, during the time in which the Maldives were a British dependency. A large concrete runway, capable of accommodating large transport planes had been constructed, because the base was once an important staging post in the supply of Britain’s far-eastern interests, such as Hong Kong. Although the RAF departed in 1976, the air-strip is still in daily use with two daily connecting flights to the capital. The authorities have constructed a large, modern airport terminal with the idea of allowing direct international flights between this remote, southern part of the Maldives and the rest of the world. The RAF connection did not end at the airport, as Equator Village, the resort I was staying at, was formerly the NCO’s quarters.

The bar

Myself, plus a few fellow Brits were picked up from the airport by the resort’s mini-bus. Once checked in and shown to my comfortable, air-conditioned, chalet room, I couldn’t wait to don my shorts and get out exploring the resort. I was just in time for lunch, and was shown to my table by Ibrahim , who would be my waiter for the duration of the holiday. Ibrahim asked me where I was from, and when I told him England, he said he would sit me with some other English guests at dinner that evening. He explained that most of the guests were from Germany, with only a small contingent from the UK.

I enjoyed a couple of cold beers with my buffet lunch of chicken soup, followed by tuna with saffron rice. Unfortunately the only beer available at the resort was a canned one, imported from Indonesia and brewed by a subsidiary of Heineken called Bintang.  Although I count myself as something of a beer connoisseur, I wasn’t really expecting much else. Instead I was looking forward to trying some interesting cocktails come the evening!

Swimming pool - minus the bats!

After lunch I walked along the beach before venturing out to one of the small souvenir shops, just outside the compound gate. I bought some postcards and sat out in the veranda area of the bar writing them out, trying to make the folks back home jealous. Later on I decided to give the resort’s swimming pool a try, which was a nice way to cool off. The water was just the right temperature, and afterwards, as I relaxed on one of the many sun-loungers around the pool, I was slightly alarmed to see what appeared to be some huge bats flying around the tall palm trees that fringed the complex. I later learned that these creatures were fruit bats, completely harmless, but possessing a wingspan of up to four feet! It was a good job my wife wasn’t with me as I know they would have really freaked her out!

At dinner that night, Ibrahim was as good as his word and sat me with a couple from Bristol called Tony and Anne. I recognised them from the flight over from Male. Tony had been stationed on Gan 30 years ago, during his time in the RAF, and was on a nostalgic visit back to the island. It was interesting to hear him describe over the next few days, what had changed on the island since he was last there. After dinner, I sat in the bar with him and his wife for a while, before retiring to my bed at 9.30pm to catch up on some much needed sleep.

I must have been tired, as I didn’t wake up until 8am the following morning. I hurriedly washed and dressed and rushed down to breakfast. I was pleased to see that the weather was hot and sunny as this after all, was what I had paid to come all this way for. The chef cooked me a nice omelette, which I enjoyed with some mushrooms and frankfurter-type sausages.

Afterwards I borrowed a bike from reception and set off to explore a bit more of the island. I was allowed to keep hold of this bike all week; parking it up on the veranda outside my chalet when it was not in use. It had a handy basket on the front, but no gears. This was not a problem though as the island is to all intents and purposes flat as a pancake, but it was extremely hot and humid. I purchased a sun hat from one of the souvenir kiosks, as well as a bottle of water. I cycled one way as far as the airport, before heading in the other direction across the concrete causeway leading to the neighbouring island of Fedhu.

The imaginatively-named Bushy Island

It was far too hot to cycle any great distance, so I returned to the resort and spent most of the day relaxing on a sun-lounger beside the pool, sliding in to the water every so often to cool off. The pool had its own bar which one could swim or wade out to, complete with submerged concrete stools. Sitting on one of these, whilst enjoying a cold beer, or fruit juice, was a great way to relax and was another reason I had come to the Maldives in the first place.

The resort’s management were certainly keen to ensure their guests didn’t go hungry, as between lunch and dinner tea and cake were on offer. Despite doing a fair amount of swimming, and taking care not to stuff my face too much, I still managed to pile on several pounds during the course of my stay.

Pick your own

I soon worked out that dinner each evening followed a theme; the first night had been barbecue night, with the second night being Asian night. Over the course of the week we also were treated to Italian and Chinese nights as well as “Pan-grilled flambé” night. That night, after an excellent chicken curry, we met up with another British couple from the Isle of Man. They too had been on the same connecting flight from Male, and were joking that my late arrival had nearly caused the plane to be delayed. This time I stayed up a bit later, in fact it was gone midnight by the time I left the bar.

I have mentioned a couple of times previously that this was a chill-out holiday, and that’s exactly what I did, spending much of the time relaxing by the pool, and leaving the bike riding until the sun was starting to set. I did do a bit of snorkelling, having borrowed a mask plus set of fins from the German couple in the adjacent chalet, but found it difficult to see much owing to the fact I need to wear glasses in order to see things that are more than a few feet in front of me!

Local street-view

So that was it basically. I spent most of my stay swimming, sun-bathing, eating and drinking, plus the odd bit of cycling and snorkelling. Included as part of the package were a couple of excursions; one was called “Island Hopping”, the other was a night-fishing trip. The first excursion was a trip in a flat-bottom boat, complete with canopy to shade us from the sun, across the still waters of the lagoon, to one of the other islands that make up Addu Atoll. The highlight of this part of the trip was encountering a school of dolphins, who entertained us by swimming right up to the boat and practically jumping right out of the water. We landed on one of the islands and were taken on a brief tour by one of the guides. All I remember was the intense heat and lack of shade, although we did walk to a beautiful and secluded beach.

Beach barbecue - note complete absence of shade!

After that it was back to the boat and a short voyage to the uninhabited Bushy Island. To reach this small sandy islet, we had to transfer into a smaller boat and were taken across in relays. A couple of people swam over with one of the guides, but  these people were obviously much stronger swimmers than me, besides I had my camera with me and I didn’t want to get that wet. The idea behind our visit was to enjoy a beach barbecue. A cut-down oil drum provided the barbecue itself, and I got the impression this was a permanent fixture, left on the island by the tour guides for this very purpose.  The guides had brought with them a whole tuna fish, caught and prepared the night before. They slowly roasted the fish over hot charcoals and served it up with some pasta in tomato sauce that they had also brought along for the occasion.

My chalet

Despite its name, there wasn’t a scrap of shade on Bushy Island, and most of us spent our time immersed up to our shoulders in the warm azure-coloured waters whilst waiting for the food to be prepared. Some large golfing umbrellas were provided in each chalet, presumably for the rainy season, so my two English companions and I had had the foresight to bring them along as sun-shades. We sat huddled under then for protection against the ferocity of the early afternoon sun, before going back into the water to cool off after our meal. Afterwards, the transfer back to the boat took place as on the outward voyage.

Enjoying a cold one!

The night fishing trip involved taking the same boat out across the lagoon, just before sunset, and anchoring just off the reef. We were then each provided with baited hook attached to a length of fishing line, wound around a plastic bottle to lob over the side and wait to see what took the bait. I had the usual luck I have each time I go fishing i.e. I caught nothing! Several people did manage to haul in some reasonably sized fish, including a rather nasty looking Moray eel that was quickly dealt with by two of the guides. Despite my lack of fish it was a great experience being out on the lagoon at night and trying to identify some of the unfamiliar constellations of the southern sky.

One thing I ought to mention is that my stay in the Maldives was just a few days away from the Spring Equinox. Gan is situated practically on the equator, and thinking back to my school geography lessons I remembered that at midday the sun would be directly overhead at this time of year. It wasn’t quite, seeing as the equinox was still a few days off, but at noon it was plain to see that the sun cast practically no shadow!

Homeward bound

After a fantastic week of rest and relaxation I had an early morning connecting flight back to Male, before boarding the plane back to the UK. The return flight seemed to take an age, and what’s more we were greeted with sleet showers when we arrived back at Gatwick – welcome to reality!

I would certainly recommend visiting the Maldives. Our winter and early spring (November – April) are the best times to visit when this is the dry monsoon season with blue skies and virtually wall-to-wall sunshine. Between May and October the hot days are frequently interrupted by storms and tropical showers. There are literally dozens of resorts to choose from, ranging from top-of-the-range luxury accommodation to more basic and down to earth resorts similar to where I stayed. In between there are places to suit all pockets and tastes. Most resorts are much closer to the Maldivian capital, Male, and transfer to then is often by boat, or sometimes sea-plane! I would definitely recommend going for an all inclusive package though; otherwise restaurant and bar costs will soon mount up. Wherever you stay though I am certain you will have a fantastic time.

West Kent CAMRA Christmas Meal 2016

Yesterday lunchtime (Sunday), Eileen and I joined a dozen or so other local CAMRA members and friends for the West Kent Branch annual Christmas meal. Following last year’s successful event we returned to the atmospheric Brecknock Arms at Bells Yew Green, which is just five minutes walk from Frant station. 

Travelling by train allowed all those who wished to, the opportunity to enjoy some of the excellent Harvey’s beers which are on sale at the Brecknock without having to get behind the wheel of a car. At the risk of not sounding too self-righteous, this also fitted in well with the branch ethos of making full use of public transport wherever possible.

I have known the Brecknock for the past twenty-five years. It is a small and comfortable Harvey’s pub, just one stop down the line from Tunbridge Wells. It has been altered a few times over the years, principally to make better use of the available space, and whilst this involved combining the former public and salon bars, the layout is such that there are still a number of distinct drinking areas.

Bells Yew Green itself is a tiny village on the B2169 road which runs between Tunbridge Wells and Lamberhurst. The pub is the focal point of the village and as well as providing a place for the local cricket team to meet, is popular with both villagers and people from further afield. Given its location on the main London - Hastings rail line, Bells Yew Green has become increasingly popular location for commuters, and in recent years a number of new houses have been built, along with a village shop.

The Brecknock therefore provided the perfect location for our lunch, combining the relaxed informal atmosphere of a village local with good food and equally good drink. Like last year, the weather was again unseasonably mild, so there was no need for the landlord to stoke up the fire much beyond the level of “just smouldering”. An open log fire though does add to the atmosphere, and with the Christmas tree and a few other tasteful decorations, the pub was looking suitably festive.

I decided to be a bit different this year, so opted for the braised lamb shank, whereas Eileen stuck with the traditional roast turkey. Both were very good. The beers were also in fine form, with the IPA and Sussex Best being joined on the bar by XXXX Old Ale and draught Christmas Ale. We have the licensee to thank for the latter as he drove down to Lewes specifically to collect a cask from the brewery, as apparently Harvey’s have been a bit late this year in getting the Christmas Ale out to their pubs.

I sampled three of the four beers on sale; ignoring the IPA which I have never been particularly keen on. The Old went well with my main course, and after the dessert I gave the Christmas Ale a try. This excellent 7.5% ABV seasonal never fails to disappoint, and you have to admire Harvey’s for managing to squeeze so much hop character into a beer of this strength.

 

There was a lively crowd hanging around by the bar, along with a family group who were eating in the former saloon bar area. It was good to see the Brecknock comfortably busy, as it really is everything a village pub should be.

We left the pub, shortly before 4.30pm, to catch the train back to Tonbridge, after what had been a most excellent afternoon and, for me, my second Christmas meal in three days!

English-style ales from the heart of Bavaria

I wrote a piece about Regensburg’s Spital Brauerei at the beginning of October, singing the praises of its beer garden, and its lovely setting overlooking the River Danube. During our stay in the city, the family and I spent a couple of hours in this idyllic garden enjoying a spot of lunch along with a few of the beers, which are brewed next door,

What I didn’t mention was that after our visit, I popped round to the brewery in order to pick up a few bottles of some of Spital’s more unusual beers. Several of these brews are English-style beers, such as Pale Ale, India Pale Ale and Chocolate Stout. For a German brewery, this is really stepping outside your comfort zone, and for a company with the boast that it is the oldest brewery in Regensburg; this definitely is pushing the envelope.

The beers are packaged in attractive-looking, long-necked 330ml bottles with a definite “craft” look to them, and are sold under the Regensburger Spital Manufaktur brand. There are six of these beers in total; but the Pils and the seasonal Märzen are also packaged in this style of bottle. I came back with four of them (including the Pils), missing out on the Maibock, Märzen, Summer Ale, Chocolate Stout and Weizenbock (I’m not a huge fan of wheat beers).

According to the Spital website, there is a shop attached to the brewery, so having briefly parted company with my wife and son, leaving them to go off and get an ice-cream, I wandered round to the rear of the brewery to find it and make my purchases.

It’s a good job I can speak German, as after walking around for a while, with no obvious signs of a shop, I strolled into the brewery yard, where a group of workers were busy loading a dray, to enquire further. It turned out the “shop” was sited in a warehouse at the back of the yard, and was more like a desk and a couple of computer screens for what was obviously the "goods-out" area of the brewery. Fine if you are in the know, but if, like me, you are a casual caller, not so good. Having found the shop my linguistic skills were again put to the test, as the two members of staff there, also spoke no English.

Most local customers, of course, would turn up by car and buy their beers by the 20 bottle case-load, but the staff were quite happy to sell me a selection of individual bottles, placing them in a handy cardboard carrier. I’m sure that visitors from UK are few and far between, so me turning up and showing an interest in the brewery and its products must have been a relatively rare experience.

Whatever the case, the staff seemed genuinely pleased to assist me. As I said earlier, the Chocolate Stout and Maibock were not available; the former being a winter beer and the latter a spring one, but I was pleased with what I’d bought and departed to meet back up with my family.

The beers I purchased were:       Pils 5.5%

Pale Ale 6.5%

                                                India Pale Ale 8.0%

                                                Strong Ale 9.9%

All the beers are on the strong side; even the Pils, and all are attractively packaged, with stylish and modern-looking foil labels. I’ve only sampled the India Pale Ale so far, and can report that it’s very much in the English tradition, rather than the more modern American interpretation of the style. It’s an attractive amber colour and pours with a nice frothy head which remains in the glass. It’s also a very malt driven beer, with a nice hoppy aroma and sufficient bitterness to counter some of the sweetness derived from the malt. After writing that, I’m looking forward to trying the other beers.

This IPA is probably not the sort of beer to be drunk under the chestnut trees in Spital’s lovely beer garden, overlooking the Danube. I would describe it as much more a late autumn or early winter beer to be enjoyed in a small and intimate bar, tucked away in one of Regensburg’s narrow medieval streets.

I suppose imitation is the highest form of flattery, but it’s still very unusual to see a German brewery knocking out Pale Ale, IPA and Stout, particularly when the brewery is as traditional and as old as Spital Brauerei.

As far as I know none of the Spital Brauerei beers are available in the UK, which means that in order to enjoy them you will have to make the journey to Regensburg. However, a visit to this lovely unspoilt medieval city, with its picturesque setting on the banks of the Danube, is one which is well worth making, and what’s more there are the products of two other breweries, plus two brew-pubs to enjoy there as well.

Driven to drink

My firm’s Christmas party took place yesterday afternoon. I ate far too much, but was rather more frugal with the beer – there just wasn’t room for it. This was good news really as, unlike some of my colleagues, I felt bright and breezy this morning rather than suffering from a king-size hangover!

After the party, I caught the train home to Tonbridge. The station is directly opposite the pub where the event took place, so why apart from our General Manager, was I the only other person who travelled into work that morning by public transport? Why did nearly everyone else either drive in themselves, or get picked up by a colleague?

Several people in fact had car shared, but seeing as not everyone wished to drink, this was a sensible arrangement. Despite this I was still surprised to learn that just two out of approximately 30 members of staff had let the train take the strain. It does seem that many people have an aversion to public transport, even when it’s practically on their doorstep! It’s almost as though they are too frightened to catch a bus, or jump on a train.

Fellow blogger Red Nev, made a similar comment in his post about the Merseyside Police’s crackdown on drinking and driving at Christmas. “There are drivers who have become so wedded to their cars that going anywhere without them is inconceivable.”  We have noticed this reluctance to leave the car at home when organising our CAMRA bus trips, but it seems that even when people are more or less spoon-fed the relevant public transport information they would still rather drive, or not show up at all.

Before going any further I wish to sat this is not an anti-motorist post. I am a motorist, and I drive to and from work each day. I enjoy driving, although my morning journey is a lot more pleasant during the school holiday than it is during term time, when the roads are clogged up by dozens of “yummy mummies”, ferrying their little darlings to school in over-sized SUV’s, which they have difficulty in driving properly, let alone parking!

However, much as I enjoy driving, as a beer lover I will not normally drive to a pub, unless I intend to limit my intake to a pint of ordinary strength bitter. If a pub can be reached by means of public transport, or even by walking, then so much the better. I accept there are occasions when the public transport option is not available, and this particularly applies to rural bus services during the evening. This is why we tend to restrict our visits to isolated country pubs, to weekends and during the hours of daylight.

I am really not sure why people are so ignorant about local bus and train services, as there is far more information available, particularly on-line, than there ever was before. With the click of a mouse it is dead easy to carry out a spot of prior research; and all from the comfort of ones home. I have even done this when planning trips abroad; looking up bus and train times in order to plan trips out to some of the more isolated and rural drinking spots.

I think much of this aversion to public transport is because people are too frightened to step outside of their own comfort zone. They are perhaps frightened of missing the last bus home or are anxious about the behaviour of some of their fellow passengers; especially on late-night train services.

I can assure my fellow travellers though, that public transport is by and large a safe and reliable means of visiting pubs, which otherwise one would have to drive to – which kind of negates the whole thing! What do others think?

A good start to December

It’s been a hectic and rather beer-fuelled start to December, with the British Guild of Beer Writers Annual Awards Dinner taking place on Thursday evening in the glitzy Art Deco opulence of the Park Lane Hotel in London’s Mayfair; whilst in complete contrast, the Annual General Meeting of West Kent CAMRA took place on Saturday afternoon in the rather more modest setting of the Tunbridge Wells Constitutional Club.

The former was my first BGBW awards dinner and I enjoyed it very much; but of more interest to readers is Saturday’s event, especially as the future of my local CAMRA branch hung in the balance.

It’s a few years now since I stepped down from the West Kent committee, but I still play a reasonably active roll within the branch. Like other ordinary members who received the invitation to the AGM, sent out a few weeks ago, I was acutely aware that for health reasons, branch chairman Iain, would be standing down. I also knew from conversations I’d had, several weeks ago, that my friend Don would also be standing down from his position as branch social secretary. With no obvious candidates to fill either role, here was a real possibility that the branch could be left rudderless and in danger of being unable to fulfil its responsibly as part of the Campaign for Real Ale.

It was therefore with a slightly heavy heart that I caught the train over to Tunbridge Wells, just after 1pm on Saturday, and made my way along to the Constitutional Club. I walked up through Calverley Grounds, stopping to take a few photos of the ice rink, whose appearance each year at the end of November heralds the start of Christmas in Tunbridge Wells.

This year is the fifth time in a row that the Constitutional Club has hosted our AGM. The club is housed in what must once have been a large private house and the Doric columns at the entrance, help give it the appearance of a stately home. The interior is well appointed with two large lounges, a snooker hall in the basement plus a number of function rooms upstairs. It was in one of these rooms that the meeting took place.

Before going on to describe what took place, mention should be made of the beer. The club stocks renowned local favourite Harvey’s Sussex Best as its regular cask ale, with up to three other changing guests. Saturday’s line-up featured Greedy Goose 4.2% from Hook Norton, Mandarina 4.5% from Kent Brewery and Natural Privileges a 5.2% Porter from Pig & Porter. I tried all three over the course of the afternoon, and can confirm that all were good.

And so to the meeting; there are 620 members on our books, but only 16 of them could be bothered to turn up! Most were people known to us, but it was good to see a couple of new faces in the room. Despite the poor attendance, the outgoing chairman was able to report on a highly successful year for the branch; the highlight being the beer festival we run in association with the Spa Valley Railway.

There were some quite lengthy reports from our Publicity and Campaigns Officers, detailing the excellent work these two individuals perform on behalf of the branch. The Social Secretary’s report highlighted the thoughtful approach taken by the departing incumbent, in trying to reach out to as many pubs as possible and to provide an interesting and varied programme of social events and activities designed to offer something for everyone. The report concluded that despite all the effort and careful planning which had gone into setting out the year’s programme of events; for, as in previous years, the attendance at many of these socials was disappointing, with few members, apart from those on the committee attending. This remains an ongoing problem for the branch and with no obvious answers of how to turn it round.

I have been involved with West Kent CAMRA for the past 30 years, in one capacity or another, and unfortunately the issue of poor attendance has been evident right from those early days. A comment from one member present on Saturday, that weekday evening socials were awkward for him, shed some light on one possible cause. His reasoning that by the time he gets home from work in the evening has his evening meal and spends a bit of time catching up with the family, the last thing he feels like doing is going back out again, especially if it involves a train journey to get to a particular pub.

I empathise completely with him, as I also have felt the same way, especially on a cold winter’s night. Basically there is no easy answer, but the meeting did agree to adopt a more flexible approach to socials, by notifying members of up and coming events, such as “tap-takeovers”, “meet the brewer evenings” etc, by means of social media, rather than relying solely on activities being advertised in “What’s Brewing”. The 21^st Century demands a 21^st Century approach, rather than a 19^th Century one where printed notices appearing each month in the Campaign newspaper!

When it came to the election of branch officers, it was to the relief of everyone that a volunteer did step forward for the position of chairman. He is someone known to the committee as well as to some ordinary members like me. I know he will perform well in this role and will contribute much to the branch. As for the role of social secretary, it was agreed that this role be handled by a new member, who was elected to the committee, with input from other branch officials.

We adjourned for a beer break, and also to take advantage of the buffet laid on for us by the club. This was followed by nominations for the 2018 Good Beer Guide. This I an area I haven’t been involved with for a number of years, but seeing as I’d just grabbed a pint, I sat in on the meeting and even agreed to survey a pub – I must be going soft in my old age!

So the branch survives for another year, but without the influx of some younger active members this is surely nothing more than a stay of execution. I know there are other CAMRA branches in a similar predicament, who are hanging on by the skin of their teeth. It will be interesting to see what CAMRA’s Revitalisation Project comes up with, but the chances this already delayed project  will recommend more of the same. I hate to say it, but CAMRA has long since ceased to be a young persons’ organisation, and unless it attracts new blood it will wither and die.

After the meeting ended, several of us decided that more beer was in order (as if we hadn’t drank enough!). Seven of us adjourned to the George, at the top end of the town. The temperature was already falling, but a brisk walk back into the centre and then through the main shopping area, brought us to this fine old former coaching inn, which reopened back in the spring after years in the doldrums and an undeserved fate as a dodgy night-club. The new owners also run the Sussex Arms and the Ragged Trousers in the Pantiles area of the town. The George offers half-dozen or so cask ales, plus a range of “craft kegs”, all sourced from small independent brewers. I kicked off with a pint of Indian Brown 4.9% from Cornwall’s Harbour Brewing Company, followed by a pint of Larkin’s wonderful 5.2% Porter.

There was a really nice ambiance about the George that evening, helped by the welcoming warmth from the log-burner, and the way in which the pub has been divided up into several different areas. There was some good 70’s rock music emanating from the speakers, but played at a sensible volume which allowed conversation to take place at a comfortable level without the need to shout, or even raise one’s voice. It is good to see this lovely old pub restored to its former glory. I wouldn’t say it was heaving, but given its location on the edge of the common it was comfortably busy, with a good mixed crowd in the bar.

Four of those present decided to head back down to Fuggles, but the rest of us stayed put, content with the fact we were comfortable, with somewhere to sit and plenty of good beer to enjoy. Rather foolishly I rounded off the evening with a half of Zozoma Strong IPA 6.5%, from Gun Brewery. It was rather nice though! 

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A difficult job

Every Friday, over the course of the past couple of months I’ve made a point of calling in at the Greyhound at Charcott for a lunchtime pint. Friday is the only weekday which the pub opens at lunchtime, so seeing as my regular lunchtime walks often take me right past its door, it seems rude not to pop in for a quick pint and a chat with whoever happens to be in.

I also feel that I am doing my bit, albeit in a small way, to help keep this rural pub open. For the background to the Greyhound’s current situation, please refer to my previous post on the subject. However, even with my presence I have yet to see the number of customers reach double figures.

The landlord tells me that trade is busier in the evenings; something I will find out for myself in a fortnight’s time, when my local CAMRA branch will be holding a social at the pub. Unfortunately, relying solely on wet sales (the Greyhound serves no food, but customers are welcome to bring their own sandwiches or rolls and eat them in the bar), does not appear to be a sound business model; certainly in the long term.

Larkin’s only have the pub on a short term lease, as owners’ Enterprise Inns, have the pub up for sale. The talk in the bar  has been that the only interest in the property has been from those wishing to convert the pub into a private dwelling, and the only reason this desire has not yet come to pass is the pub has no garden. If one wished to be pedantic, it does have a grassed area at the side, which is separated from the road by a hedge, but this “garden area” belongs to the house behind. It is currently leased to the pub.

So at the moment, the Greyhound is in a sort of limbo. It’s great that Larkin’s have taken on the lease so that the pub can remain open, but with its long term future uncertain, it’s understandable they don’t wish to invest in a full-blown catering operation.

For my part, I will continue to call in when I can, as there’s normally some friendly and interesting conversation at the bar. Last week whilst I was there, Larkin’s made a delivery and their drayman, whom I have known for years, popped in for a pint and a chat. He brought his canine companion in with him, and the dog amused us by begging for tit-bits (the pub sells crisps) and then got a little vociferous when no rewards came his way.

I enjoyed my ham roll along with an excellent pint of Larkin’s Porter. Walking back to work along the lanes, with the sun low in the sky, and full on in my face, I started to think that perhaps life isn’t quite so bad after all.