Rose & Crown Hotel - Tonbridge

You can usually tell something about a town from the quality of its principal hotel, and when high standards are combined with longevity and a prestigious pedigree, you know that both town and hotel are worthy of further exploration.

The fortunes of principal hotels have waxed and waned over the years, especially in provincial towns. I’m not going to go over the whole decline of the stage-coach trade following the arrival of the railways scenario, particularly as the advent of the motor car led to something of a revival in their fortunes, but you know what I mean.

There were two hotels in the centre of Ashford – the town where I grew up. The George and the County Hotel. When I was in the sixth form, and not necessarily old enough to drink, the George was a popular haunt of us youngsters. The County was much less so, being stuffy and very old-fashioned and, as far as I remember, I never set foot in the place, or even contemplating doing so.

The irony is that whilst both establishments are still trading, the County is now the town’s  Wetherspoon’s outlet. It no longer offers accommodation, although I’m pleased to report that the George, which is Ashford’s oldest coaching inn, still does.

I’m digressing a little, but I wanted to demonstrate the rise and sometimes the fall in the fortunes of provincial hotels, but before moving on I want to tell you about how I first became interested in such places.

Back in the early nineties, I read Charles Dickens’s  immortal novel, The Pickwick Papers for the first time. This timeless classic, with its narrative describing the adventures of the members of the Pickwick Club, requires little in the way of introduction, but for those unfamiliar with the book, the story recounts follows the experiences of  Mr Pickwick and his companions as they make their way by stage-coach, through the English countryside, to a number of provincial towns, stopping off at various old coaching inns along the way.

The work is considered an accurate portrayal of these old inns, and the characters often associated with them, and it was  reading this book which first sparked my interest in these now, largely vanished establishments which were, of course, the forerunners to our modern hotels. I read the book for a second time around ten years ago, and found it every bit as enjoyable as before.   

It’s time now to move closer to home and to the Rose & Crown Hotel which has been Tonbridge’s principal and most prestigious hotel, for the past 400 years. The Rose & Crown was originally a Tudor House, built during the 16^th Century, and these origins are still apparent in parts of the hotel. An attractive brick frontage was added to the building some two hundred years later, along with an impressive porch.

The balcony, on top of this structure, was traditionally the place from which election results were announced, whilst the coat of arms above the porch are those of the Duchess of Kent, mother to Queen Victoria. They commemorate frequent visits by the Duchess and her daughter to the town.

In more recent times the hotel has been owned by a succession of different companies, including the Forte Group but in 2010 the business was acquired by R & B Hotels who carried out extensive refurbishment and renovation of the rooms, restaurant and meeting areas, so that today it has all the modern facilities one would expect from a hotel in the 21st Century. 

The Rose & Crown is now part of the Best Western chain of hotels. The hotel has always been an inn of importance and now has 56 modern bedrooms. Its various function rooms allow it to cater for meetings, seminars, lunches, dinners and weddings, for groups of between 8 and 80 people.

There is a decked and heated outside court yard at the rear of the hotel, but many of the former stable buildings have either been converted into staff accommodation, or removed to make way for car parking. I have been to several functions at the Rose & Crown in my time, but my fondest memories are of the quiet bar at the front of the building, back in the late 1980’s – early 1990’s, when hotel stocked a well-kept pint of Draught Bass.

Sitting there quietly, enjoying a glass or two of Bass, whilst watching the world go by, in the street outside, was one of life’s little pleasures, so it was a shame when the hotel’s owners altered the arrangement and swapped everything around. Today, the interior is much more open plan, which is a shame in some respects, but I can understand why, for operational reasons, the hotel management have done this.

The Rose & Crown remains a popular place today; both as somewhere to meet and dine, but also for its original purpose of providing a bed for the night.  When my firm’s Japanese directors come over for the their twice yearly visits, they insist on staying at this attractive old inn, despite the uneven floors, because they love its old world atmosphere and charm, with its old oak beams and Jacobean wood panelling.

On Saturday, the Bailey family joined with a group of friends for a meal. I’m not sure what the official excuse was for this celebration, but the date happened to coincide with son Matthew’s birthday. I won’t say how old he is for fear of embarrassing him, but he had a good time.

Our party of 12 had the “Oak Room” at the rear of the building, to ourselves. According to Mrs PBT’s, who has lived in Tonbridge all her life, this part of the hotel was once a separate business, and traded as a lady’s hairdressers during the 60’s & 70’s. It is sited at a slightly lower level from the main part of the hotel.

We had a few drinks, before sitting down to enjoy a rather nice meal. Shepherd Neame Spitfire and Harvey’s Sussex Best were the cask offerings, so I naturally opted for a pint of the latter. It was in good form, so I scored it at 3.0 NBSS however,  once the food arrived, I switched to wine.

My sea-bream in cream sauce, with potatoes and vegetables was excellent, and Matthew’s steak & ale pie, with chips, also looked good; especially as it was a “proper pie”. The meal was also a good opportunity to catch up with friends, discuss what we’d all been up to and just generally while away a pleasant mid-November afternoon.

We drifted off towards the end of the afternoon; probably once all the bottles of wine had been exhausted. Before leaving, a few of us had a chat to the manager who had been personally looking after our group, and or reason for doing so was because a cloud hangs over the Rose & Crown’s future at the moment, as I am about to explain.

Back in the summer, the hotel’s current owners placed the Rose & Crown on the market, with an asking price of £3 million. None of us are privy to why the business is up for sale, and according to the agent’s website the current turn-over is over £1.2 million. Whatever the reason in these straightened times it is worrying for a town like Tonbridge to face losing its principal hotel.

A possible clue for the sale might lie with a statement on the agent’s site, which says, “The business is mainly staff run with a relatively 'hands off' owner, allowing it to appeal to a staff/management run format, but is also suitable for a more 'hands on' owner”.

The current manager seems very much a “hands-on” person, and is certainly very enthusiastic. He explained he is relatively new to the Rose & Crown, having worked previously for a number of top-notch London hotels. He did tell us that the owners are extremely keen for the business to remain a hotel, rather than being turned into apartments or suffer the indignity of becoming an old-people’s home, so fingers crossed, all round.

As I said at the beginning, you can judge a provincial town by its principal hotel and for Tonbridge to lose such a prestigious, attractive and historic old building, would be a real tragedy.

All washed up

On Tuesday evening I went along to the Royal Oak in Tunbridge Wells for a joint meeting between representatives of West Kent CAMRA, and officials from the Spa Valley Railway. The meeting was a “follow-up” to October’s hugely successful Spa Valley Railway Beer Festival; a joint venture between the Campaign and the Heritage Railway group.

The occasion was billed as the “wash-up” meeting; a phrase originally put forward by our late, and sorely missed former chairman, Iain, but basically it gives both parties a chance to get together, reflect on how the event went, and to examine which areas could be improved on for future festivals.

October’s festival was the 8^th such event, and each year our two organisations learn a little more, and can see which areas still need working on. In total there were 18 members present from West Kent CAMRA, one of whom was Royal Oak licensee and festival organiser Craig, plus two representatives from SVR. One of the latter individuals is not only the SVR’s General Manager, but someone who is not averse to jumping up on the footplate and taking one of the locos out along the tracks. "Boys and their toys", as they say!

For me, the “wash-up” meeting was a welcome end to a rather hellish ten days at work, having to deal with some unpleasant personnel issues which basically involved a falling out between a member of staff from my department and a person from another section of the company.  I obviously won’t go into details, but it did necessitate a lot of work, and a lot of smoothing over by one of my fellow managers and myself. In short, it was something we could both have done without, but on occasion that's part and parcel of being a manager in industry today.

Enough said. I left work slightly earlier than normal, which allowed sufficient time for me to drive home, drop the car off, have a quick change of clothes before walking down to the station for the train to Tunbridge Wells. I arrived with time to spare, so I nipped into an independent off-licence to order a special present for son Matthew, whose birthday is this weekend.

I then crossed the road, before deciding to walk up through Calverly Gardens, where preparations for the ice-rink, which is an annual feature in the run up to Christmas, were well under way. It’s a shame that they hadn’t sorted out the lighting along the paths though, because at times I was walking in complete darkness, as one alarmed dog walker, heading in the opposite direction, found out.

I arrived at the Royal Oak shortly before 6.30pm.  Landlord Craig was standing next to the bar chatting to a group of regulars. Much to my joy I noticed one of the pumps was for Harvey’s Bonfire Boy. This strong, dark seasonal beer was voted “beer of the festival”, and proved so popular there was none left by the time I arrived for my stint behind the bar, on the Saturday evening.

I was therefore keen not to lose the chance of a glass or two, but with an ABV of 5.8%, it didn’t seem a good beer to start on. Craig informed me that it had only just come on, and we would be "sampling" it later, along with the food which he’d laid on for us. Instead, I opted for another, but his time slightly weaker dark beer, in the form of Tonbridge Brewery Ebony Moon. At 4.2% ABV, this “quaffable porter”, as the brewery describe it, was just right, so much so that before making my way along to the meeting, at the far end of the pub, I ordered myself a half, by way of a “top up”.

Craig and his team had laid out the tables in a square arrangement, with sufficient space to accommodate us all.  Just before the meeting got underway, various items of “hot food” were brought out, in the form of chips, chicken nuggets and cheese & onion rolls (pastry variety). Several large platters of sandwiches also appeared, placed at strategic intervals around the tables.

The meeting then commenced, although both Craig and the SVR representatives made it clear that final figures relating to beer sales and monies taken were still not available, due to a number of issues, which I won’t go into here. The good news was that most of the beer was sold, sales of glasses were up and, from SVR’s point of view, a record number of train tickets had been purchased.

The enhanced layout of the bar, coupled with the purchase of more durable and certainly more professional-looking stillaging, was a great success; as was shifting the glasses and tokens stand along to the other end of the train shed. This prevented the “log-jam” close to the entrance, which had been such a headache at previous festivals.

The food offerings had also been improved, with a stall selling Thai food, alongside the traditional burger and hot-dog stand. The live music had also gone down well, although some of us serving behind the bar would have preferred the volume turned down a little, just so we could hear exactly what customers were ordering.

With the general consensus that the festival had been a success, Craig then went around the table, asking each of us in turn to present three points, good, bad or a mixture of both, that we thought worthy of further discussion. This part didn’t take as long as it might, as we’d already reached agreement on most of the major issues.

Before this “round-robin” took place, a number of jugs of beer were delivered to a table the rear and, as Craig explained, these represented the two main winning beers from the festival. So, representing the overall “Beer of the Festival”, we had the aforementioned Bonfire Boy from Harvey’s, and for the “Green Hop Beer of the Festival”, we had Green Hop Bullion hops- 4.3% Black Session IPA from Old Dairy Brewery. Both were extremely good, but I stuck with the Bonfire Boy as, in my view, it’s one of the best seasonal beers which Harvey’s brew.

The meeting broke up around 9.30pm and people started to slowly drift away. I left shortly before 10pm and walked down the hill to the station, after first thanking Craig and his team for arranging such a good and uplifting meeting.

As I said earlier, the get together was just what I needed after a pretty fraught period at work and, more to the point, it afforded the opportunity of catching up with friends and CAMRA colleagues over several excellent pints of beer.

Footnote: The Spa Valley Railway Festival is NOT an official CAMRA Beer Festival; although it should be, especially as we comply with most, if not all, of CAMRA’s requirements for such events.

By this I mean we offer over-size, lined glasses, in three sizes (pints, halves and thirds), our  pricing structure takes into account the strength of the various beers, and this is reflected in the price.

We produce an informative and well-laid out programme, which gives information not only about the beers and the trains, but also about CAMRA itself. We also offer a wide range of traditional ciders and perries.

Most importantly, because SVR bank-roll the festival and, as all the invoices are paid through them, there is no financial risk to CAMRA. Ironically, this might be the reason why the Campaign do not recognise our event as an official CAMRA festival, as with backing from an external source, there is no requirement for us to submit a budget for head office scrutiny and approval.

This doesn't detract from the fact that with all this in place, you’d have thought the Campaign would have been more than pleased to list the event in “What’s Brewing” and give us some welcome publicity, but hey-ho!

 

A country park - American style

In my recent post about Haysden Country Park, I extolled the virtues of this local amenity and the opportunities it affords to all those who appreciates the great outdoors. With a setting which mixes re-claimed gravel pits, areas of woodland plus the chance to stroll along the banks of Kent’s largest river - the River Medway, local residents are indeed fortunate to have such a wonderful place virtually on their doorsteps.

The country park is also a haven for wildlife, especially birds such as Canada Geese and other avian species who feed on open water. The lake is popular with anglers, but with hard surfaced paths around the circumference and a section which forms part of the National Cycle Path network, the area is also popular with cyclists and walkers.

Tonbridge, or indeed the UK is not alone in enjoying such facilities, as the small town of Amherst in north-west Ohio, where my sister and her family live, has its own wild life recreation area, in the form of the Amherst Beaver Creek Reservation. Although one of the smallest metro park, the reservation has a surprising variety of both natural habitats and activities.

Amherst Beaver Creek Reservation is spread over a 65 acre area of mixed mature woodlands, parkland and a floodplain, and features a 1.4 mile paved trail, which starts high along a ravine which overlooks Beaver Creek before gradually descending to the water's edge. Farther along the trail ascends to a large grove of pine trees that rise like spires into the sky. On the way back the path crosses the creek again at a second scenic bridge, before heading back to the main car-park and visitor centre.

Since the retreat of the last glaciers, around 10,000 years ago, the Beaver Creek has carved this area into a diverse range of uplands, rolling hills and 30 foot cliffs. Hardwoods are typical of this region of Ohio, and include a variety of oaks, maples and ash. Spring wildflowers grow abundantly throughout the area , and aquatic life is plentiful as well, with fish, frogs, turtles, crayfish and insect nymphs found along the creek bed.

On five of the six days I spent at my sisters, I accompanied my brother-in-law on a circular walk, from their house to  the Beaver Creek Reservation and back. Our walk included a circuit of the reservation itself. I clocked the mileage using an App on my phone, (Map My Walk), and found that we covered a total of three and a half miles each morning, which wasn’t bad going, given the heat and humidity of mid-August in that part of the USA.

In order to reach the reservation our walk took us through the leafy streets on the edge of Amherst, in scenes which are typical of small town America. We passed dozens of weatherboard houses, constructed in a variety of different styles, and looking out over lawns which are bounded by quiet roads.  On the way back we skirted the local high school where, until fairly recently, my nephew was a pupil.

On my first visit to my sister’s, some 10 years previously, my brother-in-law and I had taken a similar route, but back then we had the family dog, Ozzy the Dalmatian, for company. Ozzy has sadly gone to that great kennel in the sky, but humans need regular exercise as well as dogs, so these morning walks were a chance to get out in the fresh air, before the temperatures climbed too high, and also afforded time to chat.

We didn’t put the world to right, as there are just too many wrong things happening at the moment, in both our countries, but we were able to discuss common issues affecting our respective work places and also interesting happenings in local politics.

Beaver Creek, is a good example of local cooperation getting things right, as the Reservation has the distinction of being the first joint effort between a city and a metro park in the state of Ohio. The City of Amherst maintains the park and the visitor's centre while Lorain County Metro Parks manages the park's Natural Resource Management Program.

The Metro Parks and City of Amherst contributed two-thirds of the 1.8 million dollars necessary to make the park a reality, with the remainder coming from private donations. This three-way effort enabled the project to open its gates to the public on 1st July 2001.

A Bass revival?

In what will be seen by many as something of a strange move, global brewer, AB InBev are to reintroduce Bass Pale Ale into the UK on-trade market this December. The global giant claim that this will “reignite” the premium ale sector, but from what I can see, the move is more likely to cause confusion than anything else.

Bass Pale Ale will be a 5.1% ABV bottled pale ale, and will be brewed at the company’s Samlesbury plant in Lancashire. This relatively modern brewery was originally built and run by Whitbread, before the latter moved out of brewing to run businesses such as Costa Coffee and Premier Inns.

The “new”  version Bass Pale Ale will be available in 355 ml bottles;  a strange size, but one which is particularly suited for the export market. The beer will be promoted as a premium product, and will be made available to selected pubs.

There has been no mention so far of the off-trade, which is probably due to a weaker, 4.4% ABV version being available in both bottles and cans. Most major supermarkets stock at least one version (bottled or canned). This weaker “quaffing” version is brewed to the same strength as the legendary Draught Bass, which is contract brewed by Marston’s, at their Burton-on-Trent brewery, and for all I know, the cask and packaged versions may actually be derived from the same brew.

What is puzzling is that Samlesbury has been producing the “new” 5.1% ABV version for many years, but it has only been available for overseas’ customers.

You can probably see why I’m confused, but whilst I am encouraged that this “export” version of Bass is being made available to the home market, I would like to see AB InBev putting a lot more weight behind the promotion of Draught Bass (the cask version), so that this legendary ale, can once again take pride of place as a truly national, cask beer.

I appreciate that Draught Bass is regarded with reverence by several bloggers whose sites I visit, and I know that a number of them will go out of their way to find a pub which stocks the beer. There are a number of legendary Bass outlets, up and down the country, and the excellent article on the beer written by the “wickingman” on his website of the same name, will not only supply plenty of background information, but a downloadable guide will also point you in the right direction.

For Draught Bass to get this sort of attention, it is obviously a beer which not only commands respect, but also holds a deep-rooted affection in the hearts of us older beer drinkers. So much so that I wrote my own, highly personalised article about Draught Bass for an aborted project I was working on nearly 20 years ago. It runs to nearly 10 pages, so if I do decide to publish it, I had better do so in installments.

What do people think?

It's ain't what you do, it's the way that you do it

There are two distinct threads to this post, but both lead towards the same end, as both are concerned with the aim of being able to drink and enjoy more beer, without feeling the consequences the following day. By consequences, I mean headaches, nausea, tiredness and all the other unpleasant symptoms which are a follow on from “over-indulgence”.

This is because, as we all know, that whilst beer is a pleasant, tasty, refreshing and sociable drink, if we consume too much, over a short period of time, we suffer the consequences. These normally present themselves the following morning, but again this spends on the timescales involved.

It would therefore be great if those of us who really enjoy our beer, could on occasion, indulge ourselves just that little bit extra, without feeling like death warmed up the following day.

We have to be a little careful here, as hangovers are our body’s way of telling us we’ve overdone it. After all, alcohol is a toxin, even though in moderate amounts it does provide some rather pleasant effects on our moods. So whilst the advice I’m about to share with you is useful on occasion, it should not be treated as something to adopt on a daily basis. After all, I want to assist readers in the enjoyment and appreciation of beer, rather than landing them with a drink problem - or worse.

So with that caveat in place, let’s get down to it and start looking at ways to get the most out of a day, or particular session’s drinking, without suffering the consequences the following day.

The first approach is to pace yourself. This is common sense really, and whilst it should go without saying, it’s surprising just how many of us throw caution to the wind by ignoring this basic rule; especially when we're presented with an abundance of choice and a multitude of interesting beers to tempt us. It's perhaps not much of a surprise then when we approach a session’s drinking with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop.

Fortunately, over the course of a lifetime of beer drinking, I have learned to pace myself, as a combination of too many bad heads, or feeling sufficiently rough the next morning so as to end up wasting the rest of the day, has led me to be more circumspect. So how did I fare on the recent CAMRA  bus trip to Romney Marsh, which took place a couple of Saturday's ago?

The trip involved our group visiting four different pubs, with a stop-over of between one and a half and two hours at each one. The temptation on such pub visits is to try a few of the beers on offer at each pub, and I'm fairly certain that quite a few of my companions did exactly that. There was a time  when I would have done the same, but having learned the hard way over the years, I was definitely more restrained in the amount of beer I drank that day.

So  how much beer did I consume at each of the four pubs? Well looking back at the notes I made, I imbibed one and a half pints in each pub, which may seem pretty moderate until you realise that is still equates to six pints.

However the six pints were spread over the course of a seven hour time period, and during that time I ate a substantial meal. I also made sure that I drank plenty of water, particularly whilst on the coach and journeying between the various pubs. So by following these simple rules I was able to pace myself and enjoy my beer, rather than just knocking it back. In short, had a good day without feeling like death warmed up the following morning.

Sometimes though it isn't quite that simple, and there have been occasions when I've been drinking at a much faster rate but still felt fine the next day. These occasions have primarily occurred whilst on holiday, particularly on trips to Europe where bottom-fermented beers are the order of the day.

Renowned bloggers Boak & Bailey wrote about this phenomenon a couple of months ago, following their return from a short holiday in Munich. They'd noticed how they were able to drink fairly large quantities of beer without feeling rough the following day.

As the couple wrote, "We found the beer in Munich… well, non-intoxicating". They went on to describe how one of them,  Jessica (Boak), whose normal daily limit at home is a "measly" two pints, managed a four-pint session in Munich, which included a litre of the powerful (their words),  Augustiner Edelstoff, with no ill effects.  

They asked is it because they ate more in Munich? Or did they drink more slowly? The answer to both those questions was "no"; so why were they able to tuck away significantly more beer in southern Germany than they are normally able to do, here in the UK?

The duo weren't able to answer this question, but they did wonder if there was any truth in the old chestnut about the cleanness and purity of German beer, which is brewed using bottom-fermenting yeasts at low temperatures, and traditional English ale which is produced using top-fermenting yeasts, at relatively higher temperatures.

I have noticed this effect myself on various continental trips, where I've consumed the equivalent of three pints at lunchtime (well 3 x 0.5 litres) and then four of the same during the evening. Drinking this amount at home in the UK would leave me feeling distinctly ropey the following morning, but on holiday in places like Germany or the Czech Republic, I've felt fine the next day.

Whilst writing my recent article about my first trip to Salzburg, I looked back at notes I made at the time and found that as well as three half litres at lunchtime and another four in the evening, I tucked away another beer when I returned to my hotel at the end of the evening. I didn't record feeling rough the next day either.

I was eleven years younger then, so that may go some way to explain my capacity and lack of a hangover, but whilst youth obviously plays a part, I feel that the theory put forward by Boak & Bailey, also helps explain the lack of side effects after a day spent consuming bottom-fermenting beer.

It’s all down to the so-called “higher alcohols”, which are far more prevalent when fermentation is conducted at warmer temperatures, than is the case with “cold fermentation”. These higher alcohols, which are sometimes called “fusel oils” or “congeners”, are only normally present in small amounts, but they are said to contribute to the taste and aroma of fermented products. There is also some evidence that they can increase the degree and severity of a hangover; although not all scientists agree on this.

Whatever the case, the advice should always be to drink within one’s limits, as whilst bottom fermented beers might not give you the same hangover that you’d get with the equivalent amount of English ale, the ethyl alcohol is still present and too much is definitely not good for you.

Also, by remembering to keep yourself hydrated, by drinking plenty of water in between beers, you are mitigating the dehydrating effect that alcohol has on your body, thereby helping it to cope with the abuse you are inflicting on it.

Cheers!

The Primrose has wilted

The Primrose is an attractive weather-boarded pub which is around five minutes walk from my house. Although it is situated on a busy thoroughfare leading into the centre of Tonbridge, the Primrose has its own car-park, as well as a patio area at the rear for those who enjoy a pint outdoors during the summer months.

Internally there are a number of different drinking areas, separated by partitions and the odd half-wall. Low beamed ceilings and exposed brickwork help give the pub a cosy feel, aided by homely and comfortable furnishings.

In recent years, the Primrose never seemed to realise its true potential, so it wasn’t overly surprising when it closed its doors for the last time, back in August. The pub is currently boarded up, awaiting an uncertain future (see below), which is a sorry fate for what was once a thriving little pub.

I first became acquainted with the the Primrose during the early 1980’s. Back then it was a typical drinking man’s pub, with two bars of almost equal size, and a central serving area which catered for both public and saloon bars.

I have fond memories of drinking there, as once a week (always on a Thursday), I would join a couple of work colleagues for a lunchtime drink at the pub. The pub was their choice, and I was never quite sure why they chose it, as it wasn’t within walking distance. Instead it was a short (c. 5 minutes), drive away.

My two colleagues were Peter, the Work’s Engineer, and his assistant Pat. Peter was in his late 50’s, and Pat probably in his mid to late 30’s. I was the youngster of the group, having just passed my mid  20’s, and was also a bit of an interloper, as the pair were like father and son.

I was also the Company Chemist, and for whatever reason the pair took a bit of a shine to me, probably because we used to interact during the course of our work; so knowing that I liked a pint, they invited me to join them for their regular Thursday lunchtime drink.

Pat invariably acted as chauffeur; driving us there and back in his bright orange Ford Capri, but with the transit time taken into account, our time in the pub was limited to around 50 minutes. This was because  both my colleagues had to be back in time to “clock in”. As salaried employee I was exempt from this practice, but as I was reliant on Pat to get me back to work, this exemption was somewhat irrelevant.

One thing which never changed though, was us always buying a round each. Three drinkers, meant three pints and somehow we managed to knock them back during the limited time we were in the pub. I would often manage a sandwich as well, as I have never liked drinking on an empty stomach. Looking back, it’s a wonder any of us stayed awake during the afternoon shift, but I don’t recall there being any problems

The Primrose was a smashing little pub back then. It probably dated from Victorian times, and had a real homely feel to it; much more so than it did during its latter days, when the bars were knocked through into one, and the serving area was moved to one side.

The landlord’s name was Nigel. He had a slight cheeky-chappy look about him, but we rarely saw him, as he wasn’t often present at lunchtimes. With Nigel absent, most of the time, the task of looking after us thirsty punters fell to Sue, the lovely and comely barmaid, who always gave us a warm welcome and a friendly smile. She also had a dry sense of humour and was not someone to be trifled with, as I’m sure some customers found out to their cost.

Apart from Sue, the Primrose’s main attraction was its well-kept Fremlin’s Bitter, brewed by Whitbread at their Faversham plant in north Kent. Fremlin’s was a good quaffing bitter, which packed plenty of taste into its relatively low strength of 3.5% ABV.

Even so, I’m certain that after three pints, our chauffeur Pat would almost certainly have been over the limit, had he been stopped and breathalysed on the way back to work. As for me, I worked out that by the time I finished work, three hours later, I would be OK to drive back to Maidstone, where I lived at the time.  

Times change and in the spring of 1985, the company we worked for, sold off a substantial part of its business and the three of us were made redundant. We all went our separate ways. I’m not sure where my two former colleagues ended up, but I secured a laboratory placement working for a pharmaceutical company in Lamberhurst, on the Kent-Sussex border. I also re-married.

My marriage led to me moving to Tonbridge, to a house within walking distance of  the Primrose, but with our little group scattered, and me working 10 miles down the road, I had little reason to frequent my former haunt.

Towards the end of the 80’s, I learned that Whitbread, the Primrose’s  owners, had carried out an extensive re-modelling of the pub’s interior, knocking the two former bars through into one. I paid a visit along with a friend from CAMRA, and didn’t really like what I saw.

The alterations were as described above, but to me rather than adding to the pub, they took something away, in the form of both character and atmosphere.  I think it was from this point on that the Primrose’s fortunes began to decline, assisted by a succession of inexperienced or unsuitable licensees.

The pub changed ownership as Whitbread retreated from brewing and sold off their tied estate. In recent years it was owned by an outfit called Pendry’s Pubs Ltd. The company own at least two other pubs in Tonbridge, but trying to find anything out about them is no easy task, as their website is not very informative, and is also rather out of date.

The succession of unsuitable licensees continued, with each seemingly convinced that a diet of Sky Sports, karaoke, fancy dress evenings and lunchtime food were what was needed to draw the punters in. Unfortunately the pub was too small for the big-screen, which meant football tended to dominate everything, when a match was being shown.

Fortunately I managed to escape the karaoke evenings, but darts evening were also a bit of a nightmare. I remember my local CAMRA branch attempting to hold a committee meeting in the pub whilst sat just a few inches away from where the players were aiming at the board. The darts team also demanded silence, whilst play was in place, so the meeting was not particularly successful.

Successive licensees kept trying to inject some life into the place, and I lost count of the number of times I drove past and saw yet another sign advertising the pub was “Under new ownership”  and also serving up "Home Cooked Food". The idea of  food on weekday lunchtime was a total misreading of not just the local market, but the national one as well. There are few factories left in Tonbridge, and most of the offices are located slap bang in the centre of the town. Not only that, but working people just don’t go to the pub of a lunchtime, like they did when I began my career, nearly 40 years ago.

Harvey’s Sussex Best was the sole cask beer, and a sensible choice, as the beer has a strong local following. The quality was variable, although to be fair to the pub, I never had a bad pint there. The problem was though, that with changing habits and a the loss of several large employers in the town, the Primrose was on a hiding to nothing.

On several occasions I remember walking by, late on a Saturday evening, on my way home from a night out elsewhere, and seeing the pub virtually deserted. Sometimes the place was shrouded in darkness, after having shut early. This must have been heart-breaking for the new owners, who were probably already struggling.

As I said at the beginning of this article, I was not surprised to see the Primrose closed, even though I found it very sad. The pub could have had a future by being turned back into a traditional alehouse; perhaps even a largish micro-pub, without the "Herne strictures" applied..

Sadly the following planning application has been lodged with the local council. 18/02488/FL | Demolition of the existing primrose public house and redevelopment of the site to provide 4 no. dwelling houses and 2 no. apartments with associated access, parking, infrastructure and landscaping | Primrose Inn 112 Pembury Road Tonbridge Kent TN9 2JJ.

You can click on the link yourselves and take a look, but the developers claim the pub was trading at a loss, and had been for years. They also claim the building is in a state of disrepair and would need further investment and additional floor space to remain as a public house. 

So unless a fairy godmother appears, clutching a large wad of cash, it really does look like the Primrose's days are numbered, and another small, old-school beer-house of the type which was once commonplace  will  be consigned to the dustbin of history.