The paradox of choice

Whilst in Lewes the other week I picked up a copy of "Sussex Drinker"; the quarterly news-magazine published by the combined Sussex CAMRA branches. Seeing as my son and I were in the company of friends from Maidstone & Mid Kent CAMRA, I also picked up the latest edition of “Draught Copy”; their own magazine, which also appears on a quarterly basis.

I hadn’t really looked at these magazines until the other night, when flicking through them I was amazed, and also somewhat taken aback, by the numbers of breweries there are in the two counties. Kent currently has 39 operating breweries whilst Sussex can boast a staggering 60!

Now I know other writers, such as Curmudgeon and Boak & Bailey have written about this before, but the number of breweries in this south-eastern corner of England is surely way too high, and in the long term, unsustainable.

With beer sales in decline, fewer people going to the pub and indeed pubs continuing to close at an alarming rate, where exactly is the market for all these beers or, more importantly, where are they managing to sell their beers?

Of course some of these 99 breweries are brew-pubs, or one man bands. Others specialise in bottles and concentrate on selling their beers into farm shops or at farmers’ markets, but this must be a pretty precarious way to earn a living. On the other hand, there are also quite a few success stories amongst this number,

But where will it all end? It was rather sad to read in “Sussex Drinker”,  of the demise of Ballard’s Brewery; one of the pioneers of the small brewery movement, a phenomenon which actually predates the much more recent micro-brewery explosion.  Ballard’s started brewing in 1980, so were not far short of their 40^th anniversary.

However, just over two weeks ago it was announced that Ballard’s would be closing, but their beers would continue being brewed by the Greyhound Brewery in West Chiltington, which is just down the road from Ballard’s home at Nyewood, West Sussex. Francis Weston, Ballard’s brewer for many years, will oversee the transfer of the recipes to their new home, whilst the brewing plant has been sold and is being shipped out to Serbia, of all places.

“Sussex Drinker” also reported on the closure of the Beachy Head Brewery, due to the imminent retirement of its founder and brewer, Roger Green.  Then of course there is news of start-ups, such as Brewing Brothers in Hastings and Brew Studio at Sompting.

As others have pointed out, we must be close to saturation point with regard to breweries; if we haven’t reached it already, and although the choice of beers which are now available appears a good situation to be in, the converse is actually true. These days when confronted in a pub, by an unfamiliar beer on the bar, I am likely to think twice before ordering a pint, whereas at one time I wouldn't have hesitated to give it a try.

Too much choice, actually means less in a perverse way, and the fact that the beers brewed by some of these new breweries are mediocre at best, actually helps no-one, as for a while at least, it ties up bar space which could be taken by beers brewed by people who know their trade.

Ultimately, some of these poorer efforts will fall by the wayside, but in some instances not before one or two of the better breweries have been driven out of business by too much competition chasing far too few outlets. This really is an example of competition actually stifling choice and not working in the consumer interest.

The pattern of what is happening in Kent and Sussex is being repeated up and down the country, with most areas of Britain potentially offering a range of beers which would have seemed unimaginable a decade or so ago. But will this amazing choice ultimately "kill the goose that laid the golden egg", or will we see the long predicted, but yet to materialise, shake up in the brewing industry, and the cutting out of the slack?

The Elm Tree - Paddock Wood

The area of the county covered by West Kent CAMRA is quite substantial. Granted it’s not as large as some branches have to manage, particularly in the more sparsely populated areas of Britain, but there are still parts of our area which receive very little in the way of local support from CAMRA.

The small town of Paddock Wood is one such place, despite it having a good rail service, and the surrounding rural area seems at times, almost unknown territory. The town’s name cropped up during a discussion at last week’s branch business meeting, when a committee member put forward a rural pub which he thought worthy of further consideration.

The pub in question was the Elm Tree; a short drive from the centre of Paddock Wood, but in quite an isolated situation. A number of us agreed we should check it out, so after having breakfast at the Causeway Hall in Chiddingstone Causeway, my son and I decided to pay the pub a visit.

I have been to the Elm Tree a couple of times before, and the last time I called in it has a rather non-descript Shepherd Neame pub. I was therefore rather pleased  to discover the pub is now a free-house. It stands on a staggered junction on the quirkily-named  Mile Oak Road, and now looks far more appealing than it did during its time under Shep’s.

For a start the exterior has been painted an attractive creamy-yellow colour, rather than the corporate white which is used for most Shep’s houses. We pulled up in the car-park, pausing to look at the attractive garden area, before making our way inside. Apart from a lone punter sitting at the bar we were the first customers. The interior seemed bright and stylish, and there was a log burner blazing away to our left which provided a welcoming warmth.

The bar was adorned by four hand pumps offering the choice between Whitstable Bay Pale, Old Dairy Red Top and two beers from Tonbridge Brewery; Capel Pale and Countryman. I opted for the Red Top, Matt went for a strange hybrid called Spitfire Lager.

My beer was very good, so I’d imagine the landlord had correctly pulled some through at the start of the session. I don’t know what Matt’s was like, but he did finish before me. We had a brief look round, noticing that virtually all the tables had been laid out for diners, along with the names of those who had booked Sunday lunch.

There were a couple of stools at the bar, so we grabbed those along with a bag of Piper’s Crisps each. As we sat there chatting, the first party of diners arrived, followed closely by the second. At this point the landlord’s wife/partner appeared from behind the bar and began taking drinks orders.

I noticed a number of things whilst this was going on, the first of which that most of the diners opted for red wine to drink; either that or lager. The cask ales were all priced at £3.60 a pint, as there was a notice to this effect. Apart from me, only one other customer was drinking cask, and he was on the Capel Pale (good choice!).

The Elm Tree is obviously a popular destination for Sunday lunch, and at just £10.99 a head this was perhaps not surprising. Being a relatively small pub, booking is essential; especially for the Sunday roast. It states this on the pub website, and we saw for ourselves that a family had to be turned away as they hadn’t booked.

I must say I liked it and will definitely return. According to Google Maps it is just over a mile’s walk from Paddock Wood station and apart from a short stretch at the end, there is pavement all the way.

The owners seem to be doing everything right; the pub is nice and clean, there is a friendly welcome from behind the bar, the beer I had was good (3.0 NBSS), and I’m sure the food is equally good. I have already reported this back to my CAMRA colleagues.

There was just one thing bothering me though and that was the  presence of a large sign outside the pub stating “Public House. New lease available. To Let”. I didn’t enquire as to why, but according to the estate agent’s website, the pub is “Available to be let by way of a new lease for a term by agreement at £12,000 per annum payable quarterly in advance”.

“Alternatively, the owners will consider other commercial uses, whether catering or business use, subject to planning consent”.  

The reasons for putting the pub up to let, are thus still unclear, but when compared with other commercial premises, the rent appears cheap. Whatever the reason though, it is annoying to have found a decent pub, which is relatively easy to get to and which combines a pleasant rural outlook with a good beer and food offering.

C’est la vie, as they say!

Good Beer Guide at the crossroads?

It’s difficult to know where to start with this one, as the subject matter has many inter-woven threads, and the post could end up being a long one.  I’m keen to avoid this happening, so I’ll do my utmost to stay on topic, which just happens to be that perennial favourite – the CAMRA Good Beer Guide.

Regular readers will probably know I haven’t bought the Guide for some years, although that could change when I activate the App on my phone. But even without an up to date edition I can see a pattern emerging as the 45 year old publication continues to evolve.

From reading various blogs, and also talking to regular users of the Guide, it is evident that entries have changed over the past few years; certainly from when I last bought a copy. Not that long ago, Wetherspoon’s were very much in vogue, with many branches putting forward their local Spoon’s as an entry in the guide. A few years later, JDW outlets had become less common and micro-pubs were all the rage, and I believe that to a certain extent, they still are.

Now it is the turn of the brewery-tap. When talking about a tap, I’m not referring to what us older drinkers would think of as a “brewery tap” ie. the nearest pub to the brewery. Many people have fond memories of pubs like the Ram Inn, which was the “tap” for the adjacent, but now sadly closed Ram Brewery of Young & Co, or the George & Devonshire, which is the “tap” for the  happily still thriving Fuller’s Brewery next door.

Instead I am alluding to the increasing number of independent brewery taprooms, particularly in  London, where the brewery’s beers (keg as well as cask), can be sampled and enjoyed in the confines of the brewery or adjacent bar.

With these changes many would argue that the GBG is sticking to its roots by remaining as a Good Beer Guide (as stated on the cover), rather than as others see it; a Good Pub Guide. So far so good, but from what's been pieced together so far, along with my own experiences, this focus on beer has led to the Guide being described, somewhat unfairly, as the Good GUEST Beer Guide.

There is a suspicion amongst certain beer writers that pubs are being selected purely on the basis that they offer a wide range of, often obscure, beers rather than on the over-riding factor of beer quality. Several have complained that pubs are now deliberately stocking more beers than they are capable of turning over, in order to secure a place in the GBG.

In contrast, those pubs adopting a more sensible and realistic approach to stocking are being left out in the cold. This seems particularly applicable to pubs tied to one of the surviving family brewers, which serve just one or two beers.

There are obviously no winners here, especially with in the case of over-stocking, as one or two of the less popular beers will inevitably stick around longer than they should. The quality obviously suffers, and as no one likes a duff pint, people end up voting with their feet.  The one or two beer outlets also feel disadvantaged, even though they are doing the right thing.

Irrespective of whether these stories are true, many in the licensed trade believe that stocking a wide range of beers is the key to securing a place in the Good Beer Guide,  despite various denials from CAMRA. However, if certain CAMRA branches are doing this, they are doing themselves and the organisation as a whole no favours at all. They are not helping the pub trade either.

The perception that CAMRA favours multi-beer pubs over single beer ones, must have some basis in fact; although whether it is reality, is a different matter. The growing number of reports about indifferent or downright poor quality beer in many of these “beer exhibition” type pubs is cause for concern though, and certainly does little to promote cask ale as the drink of choice in the nation’s pubs.

I feel that this one is  going to run and run, so I’ll leave it there for the moment, and just touch briefly on a couple of other criticisms concerning the Good Beer Guide at the present.

The most serious is that of pubs not adhering to their published opening hours; an extremely frustrating and annoying experience, when a visitor has travelled a long way, only to find a particular pub shut. This seems to occur mainly at lunchtimes or in the afternoon; the very sessions that are most practical, and most appealing, to travellers from afar.

These annoyances are probably due to the lengthy intervals between the initial survey for the guide, and its eventual appearance in print. For example, branches are currently surveying pubs for the 2019 Good Beer Guide, even though it won’t appear in print until next autumn.

One way to speed up the production process, and thereby improve the accuracy of entries, would be to eliminate the “Breweries Section” in the back of the Guide. This bulky and increasingly superfluous section occupies a large chunk of the GBG and takes ages to compile. It’s very presence is the other major criticism put forward by many commentators.

The list of all the UK’s breweries, along with the beers they produce, did once form an essential part of the Guide, but as the number of breweries has increased nearly tenfold over the GBG’s 45 year existence, so its usefulness has diminished.

Virtually every brewery, including the proverbial “ man in a shed”, has a website capable of being updated far more regularly than the GBG, and containing far more information about a brewery’s products than anything the Guide could contain; so why the continuing need for this waste of wood pulp?

Things move extremely slowly within CAMRA, and despite the recent stepping down of Roger Protz, as the Good Beer Guide’s long serving editor, we are unlikely to see any change until 2020 at the earliest.

In a rapidly changing world, the GBG really needs to adapt in order to survive, and it may end up having to redefine itself. Despite protestations that it is what it says on the cover – a Good BEER Guide, many of the people who buy it see it as a guide to good pubs which also happen to serve good beer.

Life was much simpler back in 1974 when the Good Beer Guide first launched, and it was an indispensable guide to somewhere serving an unadulterated pint of good cask ale, in a sea of cold, fizzy and invariably tasteless keg offerings. Good beer is everywhere now and so CAMRA, as the Guide’s promoter, needs to look closely at the purpose and indeed the whole raison d’etre of its flagship publication.

Lewes - Part Two; return by bus, train and mini-bus

Whilst it’s still fresh in my mind, I might as well launch straight into part two of my Lewes article. Not only that, but I am out tomorrow evening, attending a business meeting of the my local CAMRA branch.

We had just left the Swan Inn, when I left off last time, and were heading back towards the centre of town. We were on flat ground, at the bottom of the defensive outcrop of the Downs, on which Lewes is constructed,  passing the town’s football ground and the station on our way. The history buffs amongst you might be interested to learn that we also passed Anne of Cleve’s House, shortly after leaving the Swan.

Anne of Cleve’s, of course, was Henry VIII’s  fourth wife; the one he infamously described as looking like a “Flanders’s mare”. The marriage was never consummated and Henry granted Anne an annulment. The house in Lewes formed part of the settlement, although Anne never visited the property, let alone lived there.

I mentioned in the first part of this narrative that we had a choice of two pubs; the King’s Head or the Lansdown Arms. The former was ruled out, following a hint earlier from Jo,  that the beers were on the pricey side, so we continued on to the Lansdown. I had been in the King’s Head before, when my companion and I spent the night in Lewes, whilst walking the South Downs Way. I remember it as a very pleasant pub serving good food and, from what I could see as we walked past, little had changed. However, given the time constraints I was happy to give it a miss and try the Lansdown instead.

 

The Lansdown Arms is an attractive pub, sited on a prominent corner location, close to Lewes station. The large sign out side describes it as “An atmospheric drinking den to whet your palate and tend to your needs”. It then goes on to say, in bigger and bolder letters, “The heart of an incredible community”.

I certainly got the feeling the Lansdown was a proper community pub, with its quirky interior, and multi-level drinking areas. There were two beers from Long Man on tap, along with Harvey’s Old. I opted for the Long Man American Pale Ale. This generously hopped, pale ale, weighs in at 4.8% ABV, and is packed with rich citrus and other fruit flavours. It is well worth seeking out, and was in good form (3.5 NBSS), on Saturday afternoon, .

I had been tempted to have a pint of Harvey’s Old instead, but I knew I'd be able the drink that at the pub we were planning on stopping at on the way home. Little did I know! We commandeered a couple of the long, scrubbed wooden tables next to the window; close enough for those who wanted to watch Scotland thrashing the Aussies at rugby (well worth seeing I must say!), but not so close that conversation was stifled.

I could probably have squeezed another half in, but with a half hour bus journey ahead, and no opportunity to expel excess fluid, I wisely decided to just have the one. We departed in plenty of time to catch the 4.36 pm bus, as previously planned, but when we reached the stop, we saw a message flashing up on the digital information board, telling would-be passengers that there was currently no service to either Crowborough or Tunbridge Wells, as the A26 was closed following a serious accident.

 

Talk about the best-laid plans, but we  nevertheless waited for the bus and asked the driver what the score was. He advised us to board, and stay on as far as Uckfield. He would then radio in to control to find out what was happening. This suited Matt and I as we knew that if it came to it, we could get a train home from Uckfield, even though it would mean a 25 minute walk in order to change stations at Edenbridge.

This was not much help for our Maidstone companions, but we boarded as suggested and waited for further information once we arrived in Uckfield. After speaking to his controller, the driver advised us to board the London bound train and alight at Crowborough. Our tickets would be valid and there would be buses running back to Tunbridge Wells.

Matt and I decided to stick with our friends, but when we left the warmth of the train at Crowborough, there was no sign of any buses, and a phone call to the bus company also drew a blank.  Fortunately, the person nominally in charge of the trip managed to contact a local taxi company who sent an eight-seat mini-bus to take us back to Tunbridge Wells.

Working out at just £3.00 a head, this was an absolute bargain, and 20 minutes later we were dropped off in Tunbridge Wells, as the station. The Maidstone contingent had a bus due in around 10 minutes, and although Matt and I had just missed a train, there was another due in 30 minutes plus a nice warm waiting room to take refuge in beforehand.

So what about our intended pub-stop on the way back? This was supposed to be the Pig & Butcher; an imposing Victorian pub owned by Harvey’s Brewery in the village of Five Ash Down, a few miles to the north of Uckfield. I was particularly looking forward to stopping there, as I had missed out seven years ago, at the end of a lengthy walk along the Wealdway long-distance footpath.

After hiking across Ashdown Forest on a baking hot June day, my friend Eric and I found ourselves at Five Ash Down. We knew we could get a bus back to Tunbridge Wells from there, but the sight of the Pig & Butcher, opposite the bus stop was also rather tempting. We were just about to cross the road, when we saw a double-deck bus approaching in the distance.

With no timetable, and no Smart-Phone with internet connection back then, we made a split second decision to flag the bus down. We were both foot sore and weary after walking for four days, from the River Thames at Gravesend, and the prospect of not knowing when the next bus might be due, plus the dangers of dallying too long in the pub, unfortunately meant giving the Pig & Butcher a miss.

We made the right decision, but ever since I’d wanted to call in and give the pub a try, and missing out again was both frustrating and annoying. The bulk of the trip had been fine though, and proved a most enjoyable way to spend a cold November Saturday. It was especially good to visit a few of Lewes’s lesser-known pubs, rather than the usual suspects of the Brewer’s Arms, the Lewes Arms and the Gardener’s.

I do plan a return visit to the town in the not too distant future; one which will include a stopover at the Pig and Butcher.

Lewes by bus - Part One

Lewes is surprisingly easy for me to reach by public transport, so I’m rather baffled that I don’t travel there more often. The number 29 service bus, operated by Brighton & Hove Buses runs at half-hourly service between Brighton and Tunbridge Wells, and whilst I still need to get to the latter, I can do this easily by either bus or train.

The fare is also remarkably cheap at £6.50 for a day return or, as my son and I found out just £5.00 each for a family day pass. We travelled down to Lewes with a select group of six members from Maidstone CAMRA, who we met up with in Tunbridge Wells.

Sitting on the upper floor of the comfortable double-deckers which B&H Buses use for this service, gives some splendid views of the surrounding countryside, and on a day like yesterday with not a cloud in the sky, allowed us to see right across to the bulk of the South Downs, looming way ahead in the distance. The return journey was not so good though, but I’ll cover that later.

We arrived in East Sussex’s county-town shortly after 1pm, but chose not to get off at the bus station. Instead we stayed on the bus as it journeyed up School Hill, into the heart of this ancient town, and finally alighted close to the Black Horse pub; our first port of call.

Now I’ve not got particularly fond memories of this pub, having used it as over-night accommodation whilst walking the South Downs Way, nine years ago. Back then it was a rather rough and ready, former Beard’s pub (an old Lewes brewery, which hung onto its pubs long after it ceased brewing), which had ended up in the hands of Greene King, after they bought the Beard’s estate.

The decision of my companion and I to stay at the Black Horse was due to our walk coinciding with an event at nearby Glyndebourne. This had left accommodation in short supply, so let’s just say it provided a bed for the night, plus breakfast the following morning, and leave it that.

Much can happen in nine years, and I’m pleased to report that today the Black Horse is an excellent and thriving free-house offering a good range of cask ales, from several different brewers. With two log fires on the go, it offered just the warm and comforting welcome we’d been looking forward to after our journey.

There was quite a range of ales on sale, probably too much for some, but the Burning Sky Plateau which Matt and I had was in excellent condition (3.5 NBSS). We found a couple of tables at the far end of the right hand area of the bar. I suspect this was once a separate bar, back in the day, but with a nice log fire roaring away in the grate I felt nicely at home and fully expecting to be staying a while.

At this stage I should point out we were joined by a lady called Jo, and her dog. Jo was known to my Maidstone friends as she had once run a pub in the town. It was here I think that the confusion started, as Jo was aware of our visit and had let the pub know. They were obviously expecting us to eat, and I must admit so was I. One of the barmaids said as much, because the tables had been reserved for us.

It was slightly embarrassing then when my companions decided there was nothing on the menu which took their fancy. It looked fine to me; plain and simple pub grub, and reasonably priced at that, but the majority decision was to eat at the next pub, and that nearly turned out to be a mistake.

A couple of my friends tried another beer – Crème Brule from Dark Star, but I thought it best to pace myself especially as people were donning coats, ready to leave. I felt a slight embarrassment as we left, not that the decision to eat elsewhere was mine. I would still have like to have stayed for another beer though, and something to eat.

Our newly-joined companion, plus hound, guided us to the next pub; the Swan Inn situated in the Southover district of Lewes. For those not familiar with the town, it is built on a hill, over-looking the River Ouse. A partially ruined castle is sited at the highest point of the town and, when time allows, it is well worth buying a ticket and climbing to the top of the keep in order to appreciate the spectacular view over the town and across to the South Downs on the other side of the valley.

Time wasn’t on our side though, so we followed our guide through a maze of back alleys and pathways, known locally as "twittens", past the modernist, and totally out of place, bulk of County Hall, down the side of the hill to the quiet streets of Southover. There we said goodbye to Jo, who was due to do her regular stint behind the bar at Lewes Football Ground, a short distance away.

We found our way to the Swan, a delightful, old-fashioned two-bar local, owned by Harvey’s of Lewes. On entering I began to question my companion’s wisdom in not eating at the Black Horse, as this rather cramped Victorian gem was packed. We queued at the bar to order our drinks, and with four Harvey’s beers on offer, were spoilt for choice.

The fact that the Swan had the dark and delicious XXXX Old Ale on tap, made the decision a no-brainer for me, and what’s more the beer was in fine form, coming out again at 3.5 NBSS. It was also my first drop of Old this season.

We made our way through to the other bar, which was slightly more basic and must once have been the Public Bar. Fortunately a party of people were just leaving, so we were able to claim their vacated table. The menu was written on a board in the other bar, but fortunately I’d captured it on my phone. It looked remarkably similar to the one at the Black Horse, but slightly pricier, so was there karma at work here?

The lad and I opted for that old pub favourite, scampi, chips and peas. Others went for the ham, eggs and chips. The food arrived quick; it was nice and hot and the portions were plentiful, so all in all things worked out right in the end. I had time to grab myself a quick half of Bonfire Boy; Harvey’s strong (5.9% ABV), darkish seasonal special for the month of November. It was full bodied, warming and packed full of flavour; just the ting in fact for a cold winter afternoon. I scored it at 3.0 NBSS.

I highly recommend the Swan; it attracts a good crowd with a food and drink offering of a high standard. The landlord has a record deck behind the bar, and was playing a selection of  old acoustic blues numbers; not quite my cup of tea, especially as they were a bit mournful, but a welcome change from the usual piped “muzak”.  That over-worked term “atmospheric” best describes the Swan, and  as with the previous pub, I was reluctant to leave.

We then had two pubs to choose from, prior to our planned 4.36 pm departure. As there is still a fair bit of narrative to come, including a section on the trouble we had getting back to Tunbridge Wells, I will take a break here and continue in a subsequent post.

A presentation and some Larkin's Porter

I was dragged up the pub this lunchtime, well I wasn’t exactly kicking and screaming, but it was still an unexpected visit. The pub in question was the Greyhound at Charcott, just 15 minutes walk away from my workplace, and it was a work colleague who “dragged” me up there.

Now Dave is a friend, as well as a colleague, and like me he is also a CAMRA member. Unlike me he still plays an active role in the running of the branch, and occupies the position of Publicity Officer for West Kent CAMRA. Earlier this morning, I had popped into the office he shares with a couple of other members of our management team, to drop off some documents, when he asked me if I would be going to the Greyhound at lunchtime, for the presentation of their “Highly Commended CAMRA award” certificate.

Apparently I should have received an email telling me about the event, but I receive so many emails that I concentrate on opening work-related ones first, leaving personal emails until morning tea-break, or even lunchtime. As it happened the email had come through, but that’s by the by. It was a bright and sunny day outside, and the prospect of a quick lunchtime pint at the Greyhound seemed very appealing, so of course I said yes.

We each made our own way to the pub come lunchtime. Dave walks much quicker than I do, and although he’s taken the longer route, we still ended up arriving together. Cellar Head Amber Ale was on tap alongside Larkin’s Traditional and Porter. Despite it being lunchtime I opted for the latter; it was a no brainer really, as I’d not yet had a pint this year of this dark and delicious winter brew. The porter was everything I’d thought it would be; dark and warming, with chocolate and coffee notes balanced by an earthy hoppiness. At 5.2% ABV it’s definitely not a lunchtime drink, but what the hell!

One of our CAMRA colleagues was already in the pub, but as he’s retired he’s able to please himself. He’d already grabbed a table, and we’d not been sitting down for long when we were joined by our branch chairman, Craig and branch secretary, Carole. After a brief informal discussion it was  time to make the presentation. The clock was ticking and Dave and I both had to be back at work by 2pm, so Craig managed to attract landlady Fran’s attention and called her over to explain what the award was all about.

Every quarter, West Kent CAMRA branch makes an award for the season’s "Most highly commended pub”. This is a new award, which recognises the work and enthusiasm put in by licensees in order to improve the pubs in their charge, and the Greyhound is only the second recipient of it. Fran was thrilled and insisted on calling partner Richard away from his duties in the kitchen. The pub has only recently started doing food and it was good to see it so busy on a weekday lunchtime.

Craig made a short speech and then it was time for a few photos. Unfortunately I had to dash off straight afterwards, which was a shame as it would have been nice to have stayed on for a chat; but not for another pint of porter. Nice though this beer is, it is definitely an evening, rather than a lunchtime drink.

I made it back in time for the scheduled afternoon meeting, and managed to stay awake the whole time. I prefer my pub visits to be more leisurely affairs, but this one worked out fine. It was good to catch up with a few friends, however brief our time together, and it was really good to see the pub so busy, just nine months after it was abandoned and left standing empty and forlorn. It was also good to indulge in a pint of Larkin’s Porter as well; especially as it was my first pint of the season.

The Real Ale Guide to the Waterways

I was tidying up at the weekend and sorting through some of the books on my shelves, when I came across this publication from the mid-1970’s. Nicholson’s Real Ale Guide to the Waterways, was a joint venture between CAMRA and Robert Nicholson Publications. It set out to publicise pubs within easy walking distance of Britain’s Inland Waterway Network; basically the country's navigable rivers and canals.

The publishers claimed that the history of pubs and waterways were interlinked, and in the heyday of our navigable waterway network, pubs were the centre of a boatman’s social life, providing  places of refreshment and entertainment, but also somewhere where business could be conducted and goods exchanged.

The waterway’s guides were first produced, in the 1970s, by Robert Nicholson Publications, and were published by British Waterways, with the first edition retailing at just 75 pence.  The guides took the form of a tall thin book which had the canal running from top to bottom of each page, with the location of north at the top of the page and adjusted to suit this format. Sometimes pages had the canal "straightened" mid-page, in which case the location of north changed at the split point.

I’m not really sure what prompted CAMRA to embark on their joint venture with Nicholson Publications; especially as the Campaign was then in its infancy, but  I imagine a small group of real ale-loving canal enthusiasts were responsible. The resulting book runs to 160 pages, and as well as the diagrammatic representations of each canal, were illustrated with black and white photos, plus old bottle labels and other forms of brewery advertising.

A total of 28 separate navigable rivers and canals are listed, along with numerous pubs along the way. These were either directly on the waterway in question or, more often, a short distance away. The write-ups for each entry vary, but would normally include directions, plus the real ales available. The fact that a pub served food would also be mentioned, but back in those days of standardised licensing hours, pub opening times would not be listed.

A look back through the pages of this 40 year old guide makes fascinating reading, and reveals that whilst the number of pubs serving real ale was increasing; primarily as a result of CAMRA’s growing influence and campaigning, the choice and variety of beer sold in most of the featured pubs was often pretty dire.

Big brewery beers from the likes of Allied, Bass, Courage and Whitbread, were often the order of the day; although there were obvious exceptions. Places like the Black Country, where the wares of brewers such as Bathams, Holden and Simpkiss shone out, as did towns such as Nottingham (Hardy & Hanson, Home Ales and Shipstones) and Manchester (Boddingtons, Holts, Hydes, Robinsons). 

The River Thames is also worthy of special mention, as not only were the beers of London brewers, Fullers and Young’s available close to the capital, but towns like Oxford and Abingdon offered brews from Morrells and Morlands, respectively.

The Lancaster Canal, which is isolated from the main waterways network, gave boaters the chance to enjoy beers from Mitchell’s plus Yates & Jackson; both now sadly long-departed. I could go on, but I’m sure you get the picture. It is worth bearing in mind though, that in the main beers from  the likes of Ansells, Bass Worthington, Ind Coope, Mitchells & Butler and Greenall Whitley, dominated large swathes of the country, and were often the only choice along many stretches of canal.

Nicholson’s Guides are still going strong today, although nowadays the firm is an imprint of Harper Collins. The current guides are much better illustrated than their 1970’s counterpart, with full colour maps and photographs, plus much more detail about the canals featured, and points of interest along the way. They also list suitable pubs, but they do not go into detail about the real ales available.

CAMRA on the other hand, never ventured onto the waterways again. I’ve a feeling the joint guide was not a commercial success, as it hung around in CAMRA’s warehouse for quite a few years afterwards. For me though, it provides a fascinating look back at the pubs of England and Wales (Scotland was not featured in the guide), at a time  when the “real ale revolution” was just starting to take off.

Finally, what persuaded me to buy a copy? Well, I did partake in a canal boat holiday with a group of friends, back in the mid-1980’s. A few years earlier, the previous Mrs Bailey and I also hitched a ride for a few days, on a boat chartered by her brother and some of his friends. This took us right through Manchester, where we were living at the time and up into the foothills of the Pennines.

Providing I can remember some of the details of these two nautical jaunts, I will write short piece about them, but three decades is quite along time ago, and I will really have to rack my brains in order to come up with something.
 

Footnote: The “small group of real-ale loving, canal enthusiasts”, are actually revealed at the front of the book; as I discovered after I’d hit the “publish” button. “Written and researched by Alan Hill, who would like to thank the many CAMRA members who assisted, particularly Sue Prior, Eric Spraggett and Susan Hill.” So now you know!