More is not necessarily better

This is the first of two separate, but inter-related articles, both of have a number of things in common. The common theme which runs through both is the well known principle that “more is not necessarily better.”

I would like to kick off by asking the question, “When is the new brewery bubble going to burst?”  This was prompted by an article posted on the BeerViking’s blog. Here, author BryanB, draws on a number of sources to argue that some rationalisation and correction may be on the way, in relation to the number of breweries within the UK.

For example, in 2016 there were 1,544 "commercially operational national, regional and craft/micro brewers" in the UK, with  60 new breweries starting operations during that year. This is significantly down on the 100+ numbers recorded in each of the previous five years. During the same period, 58 breweries ceased operations, which means that the total of working breweries has actually gone down since 2015.

Many observers have long argued that this rapid expansion was not sustainable and that the industry has long  been due for a correction. These are points I entirely agree with, as I have long been of the same opinion. Imagine then my surprise the other day, when I came picked up a copy of “Channel Draught”, the magazine published by Dover, Deal and Sandwich CAMRA Branch.

In the section titled “Kent Small Brewery News”, I noticed at least 10 breweries whose names I didn’t recognise, This is out of a total of 35 breweries within the county; a number which is way too many in terms of the number of genuine free-trade, and other viable outlets within Kent.

I got the distinct impression that many of these start-ups are either brew-pubs or the proverbial “man in a shed” brewery, but even if these new entrants to the trade are just supplying the one pub, that effectively means that pub will be selling far less of other brewer’s beers.

This leads me to wonder where is all this beer going to end up? Discounting is one way, but that is the route to the poor house, so is Kent bucking the trend or are we seeing the last gasp in terms of brewery expansion within the county?

To Dover and the Lanes

Continuing the narrative from last Saturday’s walk along the North Down’s Way, we  were reluctant to leave our comfortable vantage point at the Wrong Turn, but with a lengthy walk ahead of us we decided we ought to press on. Our route took us through the tiny village of  Barfrestone, with its picturesque thatched cottages and 12^th  Century Church of  Saint Nicholas Church; the second oldest Norman church in the UK, before heading out into the open countryside.

We then passed through the much larger village of Eythorne which is only about a mile from the long closed Tilmanstone Colliery; one of the four main pits of the former Kent coalfield. Besides the church and the village shop, Eythorne still has a pub - the Crown, although the former White Horse is now a bed-and-breakfast establishment. 

Eythorne station - EKR

On our way out of the village, we passed one of the restored stations of the East Kent Railway (EKR). This was a light railway, constructed between 1911 and 1917, in order to serve the Kent Coalfield. We had noticed another former station at Shepherdswell, close to where the EKR once connected with the mainline railway. Today, the EKR is a heritage railway, operated by volunteers.  

After leaving Eythorne our walk took us through an area of woodland, before leading us up through fields of wheat, onto a ridge. We then passed into parkland characterised by some of the largest sweet chestnut trees that any of us had ever seen. The park forms the surroundings to Waldershare House, an impressive and attractive Georgian mansion which dates from 1712.  Looking at some of these magnificent trees it was impossible not to admire the vision of the men who planned and set out these sweeping landscapes two centuries ago, even though they knew they would not come to maturity in their lifetime, or even their grandchildren’s lifetime!

Ancient yew tree

We then made our way down from the ridge and out of the landscaped parkland, passing through the churchyard of All Saints, Waldershare. The church is no longer used for regular worship, and is in the care of the Churches Conservation Trust, but I imagine that at one time, it would have been used by estate workers from the big-house. As is often the case with churchyards, there was a magnificent yew tree growing there, quite close to the church. Because of its massive girth, one of my companions reckoned the tree could be over a thousand years old!

After crossing the busy A256 by mean of a road bridge, we passed through the small village of Ashley; a settlement which seemed devoid of anything apart from bungalows. We then turned off down a grassy track and headed off in a southerly direction with the aim of reaching Dover some time between 6.30 and 7pm.

This is where the walk became more of a route-march, and where it gradually became lass and less enjoyable. The countryside was pleasant enough; alternating between open fields and wooded areas, but we knew that fairly soon we would come to the main A2 trunk road, where the NDW makes a lengthy diversion in order to find a suitable crossing point.

What does the lower sign designate?

This was also where our party became separated, as the two stronger walkers were striding on ahead, leaving me and my friend Don, further and further behind. Now I’m sure Don could have kept up with the other two, but he very kindly hung back in order to keep me company, and this was just as well as I was running out of  steam.

We walked the final three mile stretch into Dover at a much reduced pace, but fortunately most of the route was now along paved roads and downhill, eventually becoming more and more built up.

The agreed plan had been to make for the Thirsty Scarecrow micro-pub, at the top end of the High Street, before continuing on to another micro in the form of  The Lanes. Don and I however, decided to head straight for the latter, as we knew it was only five minutes walk away from Dover Priory station and our train home. We sent a text to the advance party telling them of our intentions, and pressed on through a rather nice residential area of the town.

By this time my knees and the tops of my thighs were telling me to stop and rest, but with the town centre in sight we carried on, eventually reaching The Lanes just before 7pm. This was my first visit to this excellent micro-pub, situated on a street corner, on a side road, just off the pedestrianised town centre. It is carpeted throughout and comfortably furnished with a mix of high tables and stools, plus settees and low tables.

The pub is named after its owners Keith and Debbie Lane, who opened the venue in December 2014. The couple provide a warm and friendly welcome to all who step inside, and I was certainly glad of a place to sit down and rest my weary feet and enjoy a beer or two. The pub offers up to five cask ales from microbreweries (two from Kent) along with around ten ciders. All are served on gravity dispense from a temperature controlled cellar room complete with its own viewing window in the bar.

The Lanes makes a feature of stocking all that is good with Kentish ales, ciders, wines and mead, along with soft drinks from local producers. The pub also stocks a range of speciality gins. The Lanes was voted Pub of the Year 2017, by the local CAMRA Branch (Dover, Deal & Sandwich), and has also gone on to win East Kent Pub of the Year as well. It will now go head to head against the winner for West Kent – the Flowerpot in Maidstone. 

Landlady Debbie, guided us to one of the comfortable sofas, although I opted for the adjacent, slightly higher arm chair. A beer was definitely in order, so Don and both I went for the Gadd’s No. 5, from Ramsgate Brewery. Not long after, the other two members of our party arrived, having enjoyed a couple of ciders at the Thirsty Scarecrow, on the way into town. The Scarecrow is unusual, certainly in this part of the country, because it specialises in cider, rather than beer. Up to 20 ciders are stocked, with just one or two casks of ale to please beer lovers.

A well-earned pint

We stayed at The Lanes for a couple of hours, but the strange thing was none of us drank that much. I think we all pretty exhausted, and in my case suffering the effects of too much sun. This was despite wearing a sun hat and slapping on plenty of sunscreen.

I remained with the Gadd’s for my second pint, this time the summer-themed She Sells Sea Shells - a lovely pale and well-hopped beer, which shows off all that is good about a Kentish summer, spent by the sea. I removed my boots (but not my socks!),  allowing the air to get to my feet. I felt much better by the time we left, and had no trouble in walking back to the station, or indeed walking the mile or so back to my house, once we arrived back in Tonbridge.

So all in all, a good day’s walking in a part of Kent I am not at all familiar with, combined with some excellent beers in two really good micro-pubs. The fact that one was rural and virtually in the middle of nowhere, whilst the other could not have been more urban in its location, proved once again that it’s the pub and the people who are important, and not its actual location; although the latter obviously plays a part.

As for "White Cliffs Country", this is the name given by the local tourist authority for the area which encompasses Dover, Deal and Sandwich. It is a unique place where coast meets country, beauty meets history and England meets the Continent. 

We obviously, only scratched the surface of this corner of East Kent, and it is an area which is definitely worth a visit and spending more time in.

White Cliffs Country - and a rural micro-pub

On Saturday just gone, I caught up with my three walking companions from the previous week for another jaunt along the North Downs Way. We weren’t continuing from where we’d ended up the previous week, as the three of them had completed that particular walk the day after. I was rather glad that I hadn’t joined them, as two lengthy hikes in a row would have been a bit too much, as far as I was concerned.

Instead, with an eight day break since my last foray into East Kent, I was relatively fresh and raring to go. Saturday’s walk was actually the climax of the North Downs Way;  or at least it was for the member of our group who had set out from Farnham over two years ago, to walk the 156 miles to Dover. This particular friend had actually completed the main route last year, and what I was joining him and his other two companions on was the so-called “Canterbury loop”, which follows the gap in the hills made by the River Stour, as its winds its way towards the cathedral city, before heading back towards Dover in s south-easterly direction.

Conditions were a little cooler than they had been the previous week, and were therefore much more conducive to walking. So with a relatively early start, we boarded the 09.23 train from Tonbridge to Dover Priory. The countryside was looking a little greener than it had done the previous week, no doubt helped by the much welcome rain we’d had in the meantime.

We arrived in Dover just over an hour later, and with three quarters of an hour to wait for our connection to Shepherdswell (our starting point for this section of the trail), we walked the short distance into the town centre and found a convenient coffee shop. It is always good to support an independent café, rather than one of the big, multi-national chains, and the Mean Bean Coffee Shop proved a good find. With a friendly welcome and table service to match, in bright and airy surroundings, the resultant coffee was also excellent and just the thing for the start of a lengthy walk.

Suitably refreshed, we returned to the station and boarded the Canterbury-bound train for just two stops, alighting at the delightfully named village of Shepherdswell. Our plan was to join up with the NDW and walk the nine or so miles towards Dover; but not before a hastily arranged pub-stop.

It is not normally a good idea to stop for refreshment so early on in proceedings, but we were all agreed that as we were unlikely to be passing that particular way again, it would be a shame to miss out on a visit to a rather unique micro-pub. Consequently we headed north, towards the small village of Barfrestone where, more by luck than judgement, we stumbled along the track leading to the aptly-named Wrong Turn.

This chalet-style pub, which opened in August 2014, is situated at the end of a gravel drive, right on the edge of Barfrestone. There is a sheltered patio area at the front of the building and a lawned garden with picnic benches, at the side. The interior has a comfortable, but slightly rustic feel with wooden tables and chairs, sideboard, piano and a wood-burning stove.  Beers and ciders are served on gravity dispense from a temperature controlled cellar room behind the bar. A variety of snacks are available, including home-made pork pies, scotch eggs and a cheese board.

After our short walk from the station (1.5 miles), it was a good place to stop off at, and enjoy a glass or two of beer. The sun had been shining ever since we left Dover, so it was good to find shady spot on the veranda, just outside the entrance, and make ourselves comfortable. 

Wantsum Black Prince is reputedly the pub’s regular beer, with up to two others available on an ever-changing basis. Not being a fan of this particular dark mild, I opted instead for a pint of Flintlock from Musket Brewery (3.0 NBSS), followed by a rather splendid pint of Oakham Citra (3.5 NBSS). A range of traditional ciders is also available, and one member of our party opted for an Elderflower Cider, which I think came from locally-based Kentish Pip.

There was a reasonable turnover of people coming and going, but the Wrong Turn was not busy enough to prevent the landlady from popping out for a chat. She told us the premises has formerly been an art studio; her own, in fact. Following the closure of the only pub in the village, she decided to  convert the old wooden studio into a micro- pub; a rarity in a rural location. The name, the Wrong Turn, came about because people looking for the former art studio, would often get lost.

To be continued......................................................

Beer bargains at ASDA

I’ve been out walking again, undertaking another long (for me anyway) hike, so I was out for most of Saturday. I spent today playing catch-up on the domestic front, doing the shopping, helping with the housework and finishing off some long overdue tasks in the garden, so I will have to leave the write-up of yesterday’s walk until later in the week.

In the meantime though, for all those who do the bulk of their drinking at home, here’s some good news from ASDA.  The supermarket are offering a wide range of beers at four for £6.00, and these are not just the usual “big brands” or “safe” well-known BCA’s. Instead beers from the likes of Harbour, Brew Dog, Lagunitas, Hogs Back, Purity, Timothy Taylor’s and Thornbridge are included in the offer, along with quite a few others.

The photo below shows a few of the bottles I picked up this morning, but last week it was cans that I purchases, as many so-called “craft” brewery cans are included in the four for £6.00. I still have a a couple for Harbour Brewing to try, along with Long Horn IPA from Purity Brewing and Stone Go To IPA.

According to the company website, the offer has been running since the end of March, so I don’t know when they’ll be stopping it, but if you fancy stocking up on a selection of unusual bottles or cans, then get yourselves down to your nearest  branch of ASDA.

Btw. This week was even better, as the store was knocking out 500ml bottles of Pilsner Urquell at just £1.50 each. This classic Czech Pilsner is my go to beer for everyday home-drinking, as its subtle blend of a firm malt body, enhanced with a touch of caramel sweet from the triple-decoction mash regime, combined with the earthy and pleasing bitterness from the Czech Saaz hops, makes for the perfect, thirst-quenching drink – especially after a busy day in the garden.

Brauerei Schumacher - Düsseldorf

We return for a brief while to the Rhineland, for a post about one of the oldest breweries in Düsseldorf, which we visited on the last morning of our trip to the city. Brauerei Schumacher were established in 1838, and apart from an enforced break due to bomb damage, at the end of WWII,  have been brewing in the heart of Düsseldorf ever since. The brewery is situated in Oststraße; an area of mixed residential properties and retail units, not far from the city centre.

We arrived for our tour just before

11am, and there were already people in the large pub-cum-restaurant in front of the brewery. Once we had checked in we were led through the courtyard adjacent, to the brew-house, and were introduced to our young and knowledgeable guide.

We started off in the racking area where the finished beer was being racked off into a mixture of plastic-coated metal casks, and some impressive-looking wooden ones. Schumacher, of course, are primarily an Alt Bier brewery, and as well as their everyday 4.6% Alt, they produce  a  stronger 5.5% Latzenbier, three times a year (the third Thursday in March, September and November).

They also brew a spring beer (Frühlingsbier), normally to a different recipe each year. In 2013 Schumacher produced an Anniversary Ale to celebrate their 175^th anniversary. It is appropriately named 1838er, and is described as a hybrid pale/alt which, somewhat unusually, it bittered using Australian hops. These impart the sort of citrus-like flavours normally associated with American Pale Ales.

After a talk about the company, its history and it products, we climbed the stairs towards the top of the brewery, where the lauter tun and brew-kettle are situated.  The brewery adhere strictly to the  German Purity Law of  1516, known as the Reinheitsgebot. A double- decoction mash is used, with some caramelisation taking place in the lauter tun. This helps give the beer its distinctive copper colour, but also contributes flavour as well.

After lautering the sweet wort is transferred to the brew-kettle where whole hops, sourced primarily from the famous Hallertau region of southern Germany, are added. The resultant wort is boiled for an hours, in a traditional copper kettle, before being pumped upstairs to a large, shallow open cooler known as a “cool-ship” in English and a “Kühlschiff” in German. These types of coolers were once common place in breweries throughout Europe and the UK. I have seen examples at Elgoods Brewery in Wisbech, Cambridgeshire and also at De Halve Maan in Bruges.

Once the wort has cooled to 65º C, it is pumped through a modern counter-flow plate cooler, before being transferred to the fermenting vessels. Schumacher still use open fermenters for the initial fermentation and this allows the rather lively top-fermenting yeast to be skimmed off. We were shown into a room housing these vessels, and the CO2 being given off by the fermenting beer was so pungent that it literally took your breath away. I couldn’t work out at  first why I was so short of breath after climbing just a short flight of steps, until I realised the cause; but the CO2 levels were so high that a couple of our party had to leave the room because they were having difficulty breathing!

After two days the “green” beer is transferred to closed fermenters where it undergoes 3-4 weeks of additional fermentation, followed by maturation and conditioning (carbonation). It also partially clears during this period, but to ensure a crystal-clear end product, the beer is filtered prior or casking or bottling. We were led into the bottling area to see this, after first passing through a “forest” of maturation vessels, held at a constant temperature of just 3 °C.  Draught beer is filled into casks ranging in size from 5 to 70 litres, whilst the bottled beer is filled into large one litre, swing-top bottles which are unique to Schumacher.

Once the tour had ended, we thanked our friendly and informative guide, and were then shown into the brewery-tap, known as the Stammhaus, which fronts onto Oststraße. There we were given a glass or two of Schumacher Alt  to sample, although we went on to try the 1838er as well.

We could have eaten at Schumacher, but it was still quite early, and our intrepid guide had a brew-pub lined up fro us to try, across the other side of town. There was still plenty of time for Matt and I to tag along on this, before we would have to leave for the airport.

"Have you tried it yet?"

For the record though, it was good to have visited one of the oldest breweries in Düsseldorf, and good to see that it is still adhering to traditional methods of production.

Wye - revisited

I wrote briefly about the village of Wye in my last post, primarily because it was the starting point for the walk I undertook along a section of the North Downs Way last week. I also mentioned that I spent most of my teenage years living in the neighbouring village of Brook, and having been a member of both a youth group in Wye, and the local scout troop, I have fond memories of the place.

The memories include my first time getting intoxicated – drinking cider, aged just 14, at a party hosted by a girl from the aforementioned youth group, getting stood up for the first (but not the last) time by a girlfriend (not a fond memory, but an essential life lesson) and most important of all, my first glass of beer! The latter experience took place at a Country Fayre which was held on the Recreation Ground behind the village hall and scout hut (the latter now sadly demolished, as I discovered the other day). A couple of bottles of Whitbread Light Ale enjoyed at the Fayre and bought for me by one of the patrol leaders – and yes we were all in scout uniform, and no, Baden-Powell would not have approved!

A much younger (and slimmer me) outside the New Flying Horse, Wye

Over the course of  the next four years I lived nearby, I had several girlfriends who lived in Wye - not including the one who stood me up; although I did meet her at a party there! My sister had a job working in the kitchen of the Kings Head – still trading, although now very much an upmarket “gastro pub”, and the first time around, my other sister held her wedding reception at the Wife of Bath restaurant in the village.

So good times, and some of these memories came flooding back when my companions and I stepped off the train at Wye station last Friday evening, following our rather lengthy (for me anyway), walk along the North Downs Way. We turned left and crossed the River Stour by means of the now re-built stone bridge, passing the aptly-named Tickled Trout pub on the opposite bank.

Tickled Trout

Back in the day the pub was called the Victoria, but I remember it being extended and getting a makeover along with a new name. With the shallow, crystal clear waters of the River Stour flowing past the grounds, it was just the sort of place to imagine trout in abundance. The garden looked busy when we walked by, but with the possibility of a beer festival, we weren’t tempted to call in.

The beer festival was something of a mystery. Two of my companions had seen it advertised, on a previous visit to Wye, in the window of the Barber’s Arms; a micro-pub which opened in 2013. The idea of visiting the festival as a “reward” following an arduous walk along the NDW appealed to them, which is where I came in. The only trouble was I could find no reference of the event on-line and neither could the fourth member of our party.

Barber's Arms  micro-pub

The festival was supposed to be taking place on “The Green”, so thinking we knew where “The Green” was, we traipsed up the hill, fully expecting to see the event laid out before us on the large stretch of green space just down from the parish church. Perhaps the lack of signposts pointing to the event, or indeed posters advertising it, should have acted as a warning, but when we reached the said area, it was completely devoid of anything remotely connected with a beer festival.

Disappointed, but not undeterred, we decided to head for the Barber’s Arms micro-pub instead, but as we walked along Church Street, towards the Kings Head, I noticed a street sign attached to a building on the opposite side of the road. The sign said “The Green”. Two of our party were too far ahead to be within hailing distance, and the friend who I was walking with was, like me, too tired to turn down this unassuming side street for a closer look. It was only when we neared the end of Church Street that we met the other two walking back, accompanied by a stranger dressed in a hi-vis jacket.

Apparently they had found the Barbers Arms closed, with a notice in the window saying the proprietor was at the Wye Beer Festival. The stranger, who just happened to be passing, had offered to show them where it was, and lo and behold, it was down the very same side-street we had walked past, called “The Green”.

Now I don’t ever recall venturing down that street during my previous acquaintance with Wye, so I was pleasantly surprised with what we found, for tucked away round the corner was a “green”, area enclosed, enclosed on two sides by a low stone wall, and bordered on the other side by a variety of buildings. There was a large marquee at the far end which, as we soon discovered, was the beer tent, with two smaller marquees on either side. The one on the left was for the live music acts, whilst the other acted as the food stall.

Strategically scattered straw bales provided the

majority of the seating, but we were quick to grab one of the few benches. Already aching from our walk, the last thing we needed was to be perched on these makeshift seats; instead we wanted proper back support. Ensuring there was always a member of our group “guarding” the bench, we took it in turns to investigate the beer tent.

We discovered it was necessary to buy a wristband, which acted as admission and also went towards the live entertainment. Costing £3.50, the wristband covered all three days of the festival, but as we were just “passing through”, we managed to negotiate a pro-rata reduction to just a pound each, which we were quite happy with.

Beer was paid for by tokens, and priced at £3.50 a pint, or £1.75 a half. The beer was served in disposable plastic glasses which whilst not particularly environmentally friendly, were quick and convenient. There were around 35 beers available, all served on gravity, and sourced from a wide variety of decent and well-respected breweries. I have reproduced both sides of  the beer list above, and you will see names like Arbour Ales, Blue Monkey, Kelham Island and Thornbridge featured.

I sampled Arbor Ales – Blue Sky Drinking 4.4%,  Bespoke – Going Off Half Cocked 4.6% and Tickety Brew – Jasmine Green Tea Pale 3.8%, and all were good. I also enjoyed a Thai Red Curry, although nit-picking a bit here, I would have preferred a little less rice, plus a little more curry!

The Green - Wye

The event wasn’t packed by any stretch of the imagination, as evidenced in the photos, but it was still quite early in the evening. The band had only just finished tuning up by the time we left. We came to the conclusion that by holding the event in a tucked away location, the organisers had deliberately kept it very low key. With no direction signs and no publicity, either in the locality, or online, perhaps they wanted to keep  the festival strictly local and not encourage attendance from CAMRA or the dreaded “ticking fraternity”.

We enjoyed our visit, and felt slightly privileged to have found and attended the festival, and for me it was a particularly good way of re-acquainting myself with a village which holds particularly fond memories and a special place in my heart.

North Downs Way - Wye to Chartham

Pilgrims on their way to Canterbury

Last Friday I joined three friends for a 12 mile hike along part of the North Downs Way.  One of the friends has completed much of the 156 mile long-distance trail, which starts at Farnham in Hampshire, and runs all the way to the White Cliffs at Dover. He could actually claim to have finished the trail, were it not for the fact that whilst the main route follows the line of the downs escarpment, there is a loop which runs north to Canterbury, before heading back towards Dover. It is this section that my friend is keen to finish.

My other two companions have accompanied the first friend on some of the Kentish sections, and knowing that they were planning part of the Canterbury section on Friday, I booked the day off in order to accompany them.

Way-marker

Fortunately, following the heat wave at the beginning of the week, the temperatures had dropped by around 10°, but with scarcely a cloud in the sky, some form of protection was needed against the intensity of the mid-June sun. So after smothering myself with sun-block and donning a hat for good measure, I wandered down to Tonbridge station to meet my friends for our journey down to the village of Wye, which is just to the north of Ashford. (I should also add that we all took plenty of water with us, along with a packed lunch).

Wye is a location I know well, having spent much of my teenage years living in the nearby village of Brook. I was a member of a youth group there, as well as belonging to the local scout troop, so it was interesting to be back there; even if we soon departed after picking up the NDW to the west of the village. However, we would be returning later in the day for a mini-beer festival, (more about that later).

Wye lies on the River Stour, and the route we would be following runs along high ground, over-looking the Stour valley. We walked out of the village, passing the site of the long-closed Wye Racecourse, before heading due west, across fields, towards the downs which were rising in front of us.

Mountain Street

There was a slow, steady rise at first which gradually became steeper after we passed Boughton Aluph church. There were a couple of large marquees erected in the adjacent field, advertising an art exhibition which was due to take place at the weekend, and it was shortly after here that the path began to climb steeply. Fortunately most of this section was through woodland, so we were shaded from the ferocity of the midday sun.

We paused at the top for a short break, to take on some water and a quick bite to eat, before continuing on our way. The route through woodland skirted Godmersham Park; a stately pile which was once owned by the brother of the novelist, Jane Austen. We couldn’t help noticing the high wire fence running along the estate perimeter, designed to keep out the herds of deer which inhabit Challock Forest. It is also worth mentioning that this area of woodland is extensively managed; the predominantly sweet chestnut trees being coppiced at appropriate intervals, and the resultant timber  used for items such as fencing poles.

Route into Chilham

Eventually, we passed out of the wood, but not before descending via a steep and rocky path, made worse by the dozens of loose stones underfoot. This stretch was quite painful on the feet, so I was particularly glad I’d worn proper hiking boots. We then travelled along a made-up road known as Mountain Street, which skirts the edge of Chilham Castle grounds. Through the railings, by the side of the road, we could see the castle up on the hill over-looking an ornamental lake. This was a welcome sign as it indicated we were close to Chilham itself and the chance to rest up for a while and to enjoy a welcome lunchtime pint.

Chilham Castle

It was a bit of a climb up into the village, with its picturesque square, flanked by some lovely old buildings, and presiding over it all is the impressive bulk of Chilham Castle. Were it not for the cars parked in the square it wouldn’t be difficult to imagine one had been transported back to medieval times. It is worth mentioning that the building known as Chilham Castle is an attractive, brick-built Jacobean house, which dates back to 1607. It replaces a much earlier castle which had medieval origins. Both the “castle”, and the village have been used as settings for a number of historical dramas, including an adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma, and an episode of Agatha Christie’s Poirot.

Directly opposite Chilham Castle is the 15^th Century church of St Mary, and to the left of the churchyard is the 16^th Century White Horse pub. After having walked approximately seven miles, it was the latter establishment which caught our eye, and we entered the welcoming coolness of the interior with eager anticipation.

The serving area occupies the middle section of the pub, and although linked, there is a choice of areas to sit in. As the pumps were in the right hand section, we made a beeline there, but ended up sitting in the left hand area, where there was more space and a table adjacent to the impressive stone fireplace.

The beer choice was Otter Ale or Sharp’s Atlantic. I went for the latter, whilst two of my companions opted for the Otter. The third member of our party chose an intentionally cloudy cider. The beer was excellent; cool and refreshing and we scored both at 3.5 NBSS. It was tempting to stay for another, but with another five miles to cover we thought it best to press on.

In addition, all four of us have sufficient experience of long-distant walking to know that stopping for too long midway, especially if the halt involves several pints of beer, makes it much harder to get going again, so somewhat reluctantly we said farewell to the White Horse and made our way out of Chilham.

We had picked up a leaflet in the pub which gave details of the various local attractions and we had noticed that our route took us past Badger’s Hill Farm & Cidery. We thought it would be churlish not to divert for a look, and sure enough there was a well-stocked barn selling local produce, plus cider made on the farm.

Two of my companions bought a pint each of the Medium Cider to take away. I had a taste, but wasn’t quite so keen, although to be fair, if the cider had been chilled it may have been a lot more to my taste. We then continued on our way, up the appropriately named “Long Hill”, into the village of Old Wives Lees. As we entered the village, we were joined for part of the route by a sprightly local resident, who told us that since the closure of the Star a few years ago, Old Wives Lees is now a “dry” village.

We could see the sadly closed pub down a side-turning, as we continued through the village, but with several miles still ahead of us had no time to stop for a closer look. Our route took us through fruit-growing country, with apple orchards laid out on either side of us. Again the terrain was undulating and quite challenging in places.

After cresting one hill and getting ready to descend another, we could see laid out below us a large  encampment of static caravans and other semi-permanent buildings. This is the farm complex of one of the largest fruit growers in the south east, and the static caravans are used to house seasonal workers who arrive each year to help with the harvest. It seemed a substantial operation, with a fleet of mini-buses parked up, no doubt waiting to bus in workers from other locations.

Fruit pickers' encampment

After making our way through the farmyard, and skirting a number of rather nice looking houses, we parted company with the North Downs Way. Instead our route led us downhill towards Chartham village and the railway station, where we would be able to catch a train back to Wye.

Unfortunately we miscalculated slightly on the times, and whilst two of our party made it onto the platform, I was dead on my feet and unable to sprint up the steps and over the footbridge. We missed the train by less than 30 seconds, and with another not due for an hour, there was only one thing to do and that was to find another pub.

Just over 10 minutes walk away, passed the playing fields and across the River Stour, is the Artichoke; an attractive looking 15th Century half-timbered former hall house, which has been carefully restored by the owning brewery - Shepherd Neame. Now I know what regular followers of this blog will be thinking, but any port in a storm, and the chance to rest my weary limbs along with a nice cool pint of beer, was not one to miss.

The Artichoke turned out to be very pleasant inside, and the Whitstable Bay Pale Ale was also in fine form – NBSS 3.0. Somewhat unusually for a Shepherd Neame pub, the majority of the customers clustered around the bar were drinking cask, with Spitfire Gold appearing to be a particular favourite.

We made it back to Chartham station in plenty of time for the next train, journeying just two stops to Wye, where our plan was to spend the first part of the evening at the rather low-key Wye Beer Festival. This event is worthy of a post in its own right, so I will draw things to a close here and continue next time.