To infinity & beyond - the old codgers bus trip to the fringes of Sevenoaks

Although I am no longer a CAMRA member I still keep in touch with friends and acquaintances from the local branch (West Kent). I am also still on the mailing list for their newsletter, and it was a piece in the latest one that caught my eye.

The news was branch members would be resuming their occasional trips out by bus, the purpose of which was surveying/visiting outlying pubs on the fringes of the branch or those in locations that members rarely visited. Bus would continue to provide the mode of transport and seeing as most of the active members are of pensionable age, most also possess Old Codgers bus passes.

As I now fit into that category, and no longer work on Fridays (and Mondays), joining in on one or two of these jaunts has now become a distinct possibility.  The group had a trip planned for last Friday, taking in Dunton Green and Hildenborough, which are village suburbs of Sevenoaks and Tonbridge respectively.

With the bus times and joining arrangements set out in the newsletter, all I needed to do was turn up on the day, but for the record the itinerary involved catching the 402 Arriva service which runs between Tunbridge Wells and Sevenoaks. We would then use one of the GO2 buses that run between Sevenoaks bus station and the large Tesco Superstore at Riverhead.

This latter would allow us to visit the Miner’s Arms at Dunton Green, which is just a 5-minute walk away. Coincidentally I had been in Dunton Green 10 days previously, at the end of my “catch-up” walk along the North Downs Way. On that occasion I had called in at one of the village’s other two pubs – the Duke’s Head, on the assumption that it was the better of the two pubs currently open.

That turned out to be a mistake, as I will recount later, but after allowing plenty of time to walk along to Tonbridge Castle, for the 11.27 bus, it ended up being cancelled. I’d bumped into a couple of friends (both now retired) in the High Street, and not knowing at the time about the cancellation had decided to board the bus a stop earlier. There would also be a couple of people boarding in Tunbridge Wells, and it was then who alerted us to the issue.

It was a case of the best laid plans going astray, but also a day when there were three cancellations affecting the 402-bus service, which is supposed to run half-hourly.  Arriving 30 minutes behind schedule at Sevenoaks bus station, did indeed mean a change of plan, but nothing too major. Knowing there would be a later bus to Tesco, gave us the opportunity of having a quick pint in the town, and where better than the Anchor.

The latter is an old favourite and a long-established town centre local. Barry Dennis has been running the Anchor for over 40 years and is Sevenoaks’ longest serving licensee. He told us later that he holds that distinction for Admiral Taverns’ as well. The six of us were greeted like long-lost sons, as we stepped across the threshold, and you know with Barry that his sentiments are always genuine.

There were a couple of cask beers on tap, with the promise of a third to come, but we had to explain why we wouldn’t be staying too long. No matter, Barry sat down for a chat with us anyway, and even bought us all a top-up half. Wantsum Imperial IPA was one of the cask offerings, but I went for the No.3 West Coast IPA from XT Brewing. The latter is a new brewery from Buckinghamshire, and based on the above IPA, a rather good one. Pale, hoppy and packed with Chinook, Columbus, and Cascade hops from the American Northwest, this was a beer that did what it said on the tin.

It was interesting, and encouraging to learn from Barry, how trade at the Anchor was recovering post-Covid. The re-opening of the Stag Theatre opposite, had certainly helped, although the footfall and patterns of trade still hadn’t returned to pre-pandemic levels. Barry remained optimistic, and I feel he is right in this, but with a bus to catch we couldn’t stay to discuss the issue further.

A quick saunter back to the bus station
saw us boarding the GO2 bus down to Tesco, followed by a short walk along to Dunton Green and the Miners Arms. Set in the middle of the village, the pub was built for the Irish navies constructing the nearby railway - hence the name. Looking at the pub from across the road, the first thing that struck me was the restored Edwardian sign, with its reverse relief, gold-leaf lettering, advertising “Kidd & Sons Fine Ales, Stout & Porter,” a reference to the long-departed, former owning brewery.

Stepping inside too, provided another pleasant surprise, with one long bar counter, running virtually the entire length of the bar. Renovation work was taking place both outside and in, and from what I gathered, the Miners is under new ownership. There was a friendly welcome from behind the bar, and with beers from Tonbridge, St Austell and Old Dairy on offer, there was something to please everyone.

I opted for the Über Brew from Old
Dairy. Pale, refreshing and hoppy, and served in good condition as well. With pint in hand, I followed a few of the others for a look outside.  We were all surprised at the size of the pub’s garden, and also at the work that was being carried out. Much of it seemingly related to providing outdoor drinking space during the period when Covid restrictions were first lifted. The two, tropical island style huts, complete with thatched roofs, are quite substantial structures and definitely worth a second look.

I don’t know whether it was the sudden influx of six thirsty blokes, or the mention of updating the Miner’s What Pub entry, but the landlady produced a platter laden with hot nibbles, of the chicken nugget, onion rings and chip variety, all of which were gratefully received and wolfed down with relish. Whatever the reason, it was a nice touch, but all things come to an end and there was another bus to catch and another pub to visit.

The GO2 bus took us back into Sevenoaks and it was then a case of boarding the next 402 service towards Tunbridge Wells. We weren’t going that far though, and instead alighted a short distance out of Sevenoaks, as the road climbs up, past the fringe of Knole Park and towards the summit of Riverhill. There, on the right-hand side of the road, is the White Hart, an attractive old coaching inn with an imposing double-frontage.

Because of its location, this Brunning & Price outlet is the type of pub one could drive past without ever stopping, and for many years I did just that, but despite its upmarket credentials, and emphasis on food, the White Hart is certainly a place well worth pulling over for. Its open plan wood-floored interior is set on several different levels and is divided up into many cosy and tucked away corners.

For a number of years, the pub became the default destination for my company to entertain visitors, of an evening. This particularly applied when we had directors, and other senior members over from our parent company, in Japan. It WAS a good place for entertaining and the food was always of a high standard, but the beer invariably was disappointing.

The main fault was the use of sparklers, the devil’s own device when it comes to spoiling good beer – especially southern ales such as Harvey’s and Long Man that were not designed to be served in this fashion. Being a northern-based chain, it was probably second nature for Brunning & Price to be using sparklers, but their use invariably meant short measure, as well as a pint with the stuffing knocked out of it.

On Friday I was delighted to see they were no longer in place, and that full measures were the order of the day. The pint of Harvey’s Best that I had was good, once it had warmed up, as it was served at far too low a temperature. However, those who had the Brunning & Price house beer, believed to be brewed by Manchester’s Phoenix Brewery, were disappointed, as was the friend who tried the American Pale from Lister’s. The comment was it reminded him of the beer from a certain long-standing brewpub, close to Norwich station, and straight away I knew what he meant.

The White Hart is what it is, and that Friday afternoon it was proving very popular with quite a mixed set of people. It is obviously well-run and staffed by pleasant and highly trained individuals, and as such you can’t fault it, but unlike our next and final point of call, it is not a local.

The Half Moon at Hildenborough, just a few stops further on in the direction of Tonbridge, is very much a pub that exists to serve the local community. Set back from the road, this white-painted, pebble-dashed pub is currently next to a major construction site. This follows the relocation of the Volvo car dealership, that had stood there for many years.

Internally there is an island bar with drinking and seating areas on either side. There are plenty of exposed beams and wood panelling, most of which are painted in Pub Curmudgeon’s favourite colour of grey! It must be over 30 years since I last set foot in the pub, that time being when I worked in Tonbridge, back in the early 1980’s. It was one of the few Whitbread pubs stocking Fremlin’s Tusker – a fine, premium strength beer in its day, but one which suffered from lack of promotion.

On Friday, Harvey’s Sussex Best was the sole cask ale, and very good it was too. Being served at a slightly warmer temperature, it was an improvement on the pint I had at the White Hart. Most of our party sat down on the comfortable chairs to the left of the bar, although being peckish a couple of us ordered some “comfort food.” My cheesy chips were excellent value, and prodigious in quantity, so much so that I ended up sharing them around.

Being an unofficial CAMRA fact-finding trip, one member of the group spent time chatting to the landlord, with the aim of updating the pub’s rather sparse, current entry on What Pub. He discovered that the Half Moon is a real community local. We could see plenty of evidence of this, from the Halloween decorations and the TV sport being shown in the opposite corner, so it was good to see the effort the licensees are putting in. Perhaps the new houses, being constructed next door, will provide additional customers.

The 402 bus back to Tonbridge, was affected by the same “operational issue” as two others, earlier in the day, but apart from that the day was a good opportunity to visit pubs not normally frequented by the branch. It also provided ample evidence of the resilience and bounce-back of four quite different, but interesting pubs.

Three heritage pubs in the heart of the capital

The trip up to London that I made last week with son Matthew, was the perfect opportunity of trying a few of the capital’s National Heritage pubs.  By heritage pubs, I mean those featured on the list originally drawn up by CAMRA, working in close conjunction with English Heritage.

The list acts as a long-standing repository of all the known pubs that fit the criteria laid down by the two organisations and acts as is the definitive guide to the nation's most important historic pub interiors. The pubs range from simple unaltered village pubs to glorious late-Victorian extravaganzas. Each is very special in its own way, but the common thread is the pub should possess an intact traditional interior or have features and rooms of national importance.

The list seems to have been expanded since I last looked at it, as it now includes those outlets which have interiors of regional importance, as well as those where the layout, and salient features of the inside, are considered important, nationally.

I’ve been in a fair few of these pubs, up and down the country, as might be expected from a drinking career that covers nearly half a century, but there are many more whose delights I have yet to experience. The visit I made to Stockport, earlier this month, with members of the Beer & Pubs Forum, allowed me to tick off a further three heritage pubs, and this is the sort of pub ticking I want to get back into.

I can undertake the task without too much effort, and it also means I will be able to experience some more of these national treasures for myself, so what better place to continue this activity than central London, where there are quite a few National Inventory pubs listed.  I drew up a short list of outlets that are considered of national importance, covering the area that is generally known as the “West End.” The idea behind this was we wouldn’t have to walk very far to find a pub that fitted the bill.

First on the list, and the pub where we enjoyed our first beer of the day, was the Red Lion, a handsome looking, building in the St James’s area, just to the south of Piccadilly. The pub is a “must see” for anyone who appreciates ornate engraved glass, etched, and cut decorative mirrors plus polished mahogany, as it has one of the best preserved, and most spectacular late-Victorian pub interiors anywhere.

The Red Lion dates from 1821 although 50 years later, it acquired a new and attractive brick frontage. It is quite small internally, with the bar space available for customers surrounding a central serving area. A century or so ago, it would have been divided up into separate areas, and evidence of this can be seen in the etched glass of the three outside doorways, displaying the names “public bar” and “private bar.” 

What makes the Red Lion so special are the splendid etched and cut mirrors lining two of the walls. The way that all this glassware catches the light, and the glittering reflections created, conjure up an atmosphere that is far removed from the world outside the pub. It’s almost as if your eyes don’t know which way to look, and whilst I took plenty of photos, they really don’t do justice to the pub in the way it deserves.

It was fortunate that the pub wasn’t that busy, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to take the number of photos that I did, but the late-Victorian splendour appeared lost on Matthew, as he suggested that we went and sat outside. Before doing so, we ordered our pints. The Red Lion is a Fuller’s pub, and alongside the London Pride and ESB, were a couple of offerings from Dark Star, plus former Gales’ brand, Seafarers. We both went for the Pride, which was drinking well, but rather expensive at £5.10!

 

I was quite happy sitting out at one of the tall tables, whilst watching the world going by. With the posh gentleman's outfitters of Jermyn Street at the end of the road, and upmarket wine merchants Berry Bros & Rudd, just a block away, this part of  London is in a class of its own, but where were all the lunchtime customers?

 Our next port of call was a 15-minute walk away, to St Martin’s Lane, which runs up from Charing Cross towards Leicester Square. The Salisbury is one of London’s best preserved, and most spectacular, late nineteenth-century pubs, and takes its name from the Marquis of Salisbury, the local landowner, from whom the site was leased.

The Salisbury is part of a six-storey red-brick block, where the figures set in relief over the main entrance and at the tops of the solid pilasters, along with the etched and polished glass in carved wooden window frames, gives some idea of the splendour awaiting inside. It really is one of the finest examples of pub fitting, as practised at the height of the building boom that culminated around 1900.

The pub has retained one of its timber and glass screens, which marks off a small bar on the St Martin's Court side of the pub. There would have been other such screens originally, creating a cluster of bars round the servery in typical London fashion, as is the case at the aforementioned Red Lion. As with the latter establishment, the abundance of etched and polished glass again creates a glittering and almost spell-binding effect.

As a result of the loss of the partitions, the pub consists of a large L-shaped
main bar. It still retains its original long curved-ended mahogany counter, and the bar back fitting, with highly decorative etched mirror glass panels that extend right up to the ceiling. Towards the rear of the pub is some of the original fixed seating, sited in small, niche bays with more ornate mirrors behind, reaching to the ceiling. Much of the wood surround is said to be original with carved pillars regularly spaced along the wall.

Unlike the Red Lion, there were far more people in the Salisbury, so much so that we were lucky to get a seat. Unfortunately, the large number of customers made it much more difficult to photograph the interior, but you can just make out the small separate snug bar from one of the photos, as well as the separate “Dining Room” at the rear of the pub.

Although we didn’t see them there are reputed to be photos of a number of
famous visitors to the Salisbury, including Dylan Thomas, Marianne Faithful, Michael Caine (not that many people know that!),  plus Richard Burton & Elizabeth Taylor, who apparently celebrated their second marriage here in 1962.

As I wrote in the previous article, Mathew and I manged to find a seat at one of the tables and enjoyed a good lunch. The beer choice was impressive, and that’s without me spotting the second set of hand pumps, hidden around the corner. It was all very different from the standing room only, of my only previous visit, which took place, sometime in the late 1970’s.

Our next and final pub was a tube ride away and tucked away along the Caledonian Road at the side of Kings Cross station. The Scottish Stores is a pub with an unprepossessing exterior, but a totally original, early 20^th Century three-bar interior. I admitted in my previous article that the pub didn’t really grab my attention; certainly not at first, but on reflection, this was a rather harsh judgement.

 The Scottish Stores retains an intact partitioned interior, consisting of three separate bars which is described as one of the rarest of the few surviving partitioned interiors in London. There
is a central servery surrounded by three distinct compartments, created by two floor to ceiling screens. One screen runs back from the street front to the rear wall and has some etched glass panels and lots of plain bevelled ones creating the right-hand bar. Another screen, parallel to the street, incorporates the bar back, which creates the front and rear rooms.

In 2016 the pub was extended into the adjacent property on the left-hand side of the pub. The connection is through narrow doorway from the front bar and despite a steady stream of mainly young male customers, has had no real effect on the ambiance of the original building.

  You win some and you lose others, and despite its hallowed status as a heritage pub of national importance, the Scottish Stores paled in comparison with the Red Lion and the Salisbury. 

 That isn’t to say I regret visiting it, as in the world of ticking, it was another “tick,” but to my mind, it does demonstrate the difference between a reasonable pub and a truly great one.

Visits to other heritage pubs will no doubt follow, sometimes planned, but often not, as I ramp up my domestic travelling, post-pandemic. Having significantly more spare time than I did, just a month or so ago, will no doubt assist this process too.  

 

 

That there London place

Friday marked my first proper trip to London since December 2019. I'd passed through a couple of times, whilst travelling on to destinations further afield. Those occasions were connected with the “Proper Days Out” trips I made to Burton and Stockport, but the visit undertaken by Matthew, and I was our first trip to the capital, in 22 months.

For the record, Mrs PBT’s wasn’t over-keen on us going, given the steady increase in Covid-19 cases, and were it not for the fact I had promised Matthew, I’d accompany him, I might have bailed out too. That decision wouldn’t have been Covid related but followed on from the news that the Halfway House at Brenchley, were running a Green Hop Festival, and Friday would be the first day.

As many of you are probably aware, I’ve gone off beer festivals, but I knew that several friends from the WhatsApp Beer Socials Group were planning to attend, and it would have been good to take the bus over to Brenchley, enjoy a few Green Hop beers whilst catching up with friends and acquaintances who I hadn’t seen for quite some time.

A promise is a promise though, and despite a few slight misgiving’s to begin with, Matthew and I enjoyed an excellent day out. We boarded the 10.31 train to London, alighting at London Bridge. I still find myself gazing up in wonder at the way this once dingy and mishmash of a station has been transformed into the bright, spacious, and bustling space it is today, even though the construction work finished five or six years ago.

Both of us had purchased an All-Zones Travelcard, allowing us the travel around the capital by train, tube, or bus, but given the fine weather, we decided to walk to our first destination. This was a rather plain-looking pub in Bermondsey, that featured in the 1980’s series about a group of firefighters,  “London’s Burning.” Matthew wanted to see it, being a fan of series, so thinking that it probably wouldn’t open until midday anyway, the walk would also kill some time.

After crossing Tooley Street, which runs parallel to the station, I decided, on a whim, to take cut through the impressive Hay’s Galleria, to the Thames. This tastefully restored former dockside and wharf development is well worth seeing, and whilst I had made a very brief visit, a decade or so before, both of us were well impressed by the way in which former tea and produce warehouses have been restored. 

Upon reaching the riverbank, we took a right turn and headed eastwards along the Thames, in the direction of Tower Bridge. We stopped along the way to take photos of HMS Belfast, various city skyscrapers, the Tower of London plus the iconic bridge itself. 

There were quite a few tourists and sightseers out and about, all taking advantage of the late autumn sunshine, as we continued our walk, passing under Tower Bridge and then passed the long-closed, former Courage Brewery. The latter has been converted into upmarket apartments – no surprises there, given the views across the Thames from the river facing units. 

Turning away from the brewery, and along Horselydown Lane, we came upon the Anchor Tap. Formerly the tap for Courage’s brewery, I had a feeling the pub is now a Samuel Smith’s house, but with no outward clues, it wasn’t until I checked later, on What Pub, that the Tadcaster company was confirmed as the owner.

The Tap is a pub I’ve wanted to visit for some time, but we were too early for a drink. Matthew was also keen to find the pub from London’s Burning so we pressed on, coming across the Ship Aground, appropriately next door to Dockhead Fire Station. The latter has been rebuilt since the iconic 1980’s series was filmed and is a modern and rather functional looking building.

The pub looked OK from the outside, although Matthew wasn’t that keen in the end to step inside. Possibly the two, rather disreputable looking characters sat outside, with their dogs snarling and facing off against each other, put him off, and whilst I said it would probably be fine inside, he decided that it was too early for a drink! I wasn’t overly bothered, as I wanted to save myself for some better pubs, and potentially better beer, later on, so we took a few photos and then headed off towards Bermondsey underground station.

We took the Jubilee Line to Green Park, a destination that would afford the chance of a coffee under the trees and would also be within easy walking distance of the first of several National Heritage pubs on my agenda. Matthew was blissfully unaware that I’d picked out a few of these unspoiled gems for us to visit, instead of just heading out on a random pub-crawl. He really should know me better by now!

We visited three such pubs that day, and I intend to write about them all, but not in this article. Suffice to say we made our way to the first of these heritage pubs, by skirting Buckingham Palace and the Victoria Memorial, before heading back up through Green Park, and across to St James’s Square. En route, we passed the intriguing brick-built, Palace of St James, observing two heavily armed police officers guarding the side entrance.

The pub chosen for our first beer of the day, was the Red Lion, an absolute gem of a place, and a “must see” for anyone who loves ornate Victorian engraved glass, etched, and cut decorative mirrors and polished mahogany. The Red Lion didn’t disappoint, and the London Pride didn’t either, but more about both in the next article.

We just had the one at the Red Lion, as we wanted something to eat, so after drinking up, we hurried along Jermyn Street and made our way to Trafalgar Square, via Haymarket. I was making for the Salisbury, another unspoilt classic Victorian pub, in St Martin’s Lane. On the way we stopped for a quick look at the food menu for the Chandos, which was displayed outside this well-known, Sam Smith’s pub.

On balance, the food offering at the Salisbury, which we’d already viewed online, seemed more attractive, so we stuck with my original choice. I was pleased to discover the pub wasn’t bursting at the seams, unlike my only previous visit, sometime in the late 1970’s! We even managed to find a seat, plus table. The beer choice was impressive, and that’s without me spotting the second set of hand pumps, hidden around the corner.

I went for a pint of Zephyr, from the resurrected Truman’s Brewery. If I’m honest, it wasn’t at its best, but remained quit drinkable.  For some reason, Matthew chose Amstell – a beer that might have been brewed in Amsterdam, when I visited in 1975, but now just another multi-national bland, that could be, and probably is,  brewed anywhere.

I went and ordered our food – gammon, egg, chips, and peas for Matthew, plus chicken & mushroom pie, mash, greens, and gravy for me. There were no pies though – something about the delivery not turning up. Sounds familiar? I opted instead for the Hunter’s Chicken, with chips, and coleslaw. It was a perfectly reasonable substitute, although I didn’t half fancy a pie!

The Salisbury started to fill up, as the afternoon wore on, so it was time for us to head off elsewhere. There were several National Inventory pubs within walking distance, but Matthew wanted to make better use of our Travelcards. This was where I did a bit of thinking on my feet, and after an online search I decided we should head up to Kings Cross via the Piccadilly Line and see what the nearby Scottish Stores had to offer. 

 Covent Garden underground has a lift to transport passengers down to the platforms. Matthew thought this unusual, until I reminded him that

Hampstead Heath tube station has the same arrangement, but what it also has is some rather attractive original tile work dating from Edwardian times.  Kings Cross, on the other hand, is a modernised, major transport hub, along with the neighbouring St Pancras, and has connections that are both national and international. 

 The Scottish Stores is a pub with an unprepossessing exterior, but a totally original, early 20^th Century three-bar interior, dating from 1901. I must admit the pub didn’t really grab my attention at first, but a closer inspection, plus a read-up on CAMRA’s National Heritage website, led me to reconsider. There was a scaled-down range of cask beers, along with some well-known international beers. Matthew went for a pint of Budvar, and whilst I was very tempted, I stuck with cask and opted for a pint of Hammerton No. 7, a very drinkable 5.2% IPA. 

Given its three bars, plus what looked like a more contemporary and larger bar to the left, the Scottish Stores certainly seemed capable of packing in the punters. As the clock ticked towards 5pm, a steady stream of mainly young males (students, possibly?), began to swell the numbers further, so after finishing our pints, we made plans to leave.

We walked the short distance, back to Kings Cross and took the Northern Line to London Bridge. The train back to Tonbridge was nowhere near as crowded as might be thought, but we still kept our masks on, as did the majority of the passengers. It is still debatable whether visitor numbers in the capital have recovered to pre-pandemic levels, and I’m inclined to think not, but there seemed to be a healthy buzz about the place. 

What was good, was noticing a steady and healthy flow of trade in all the pubs we visited, and long may that trend continue. Also, as  I said in an earlier article, about the trip I made to Stockport, it was nice just to go somewhere and be able to pop on and out of pubs, without having to pre-book or sign in, and to, once more, be able to order one's food and drink at the bar.

Small steps back along the North Downs Way

Last Monday I decided it was high time to hit the trail again – the trail being the North Downs Way. The last section of the trail I did was back in July, when I had to abort the walk after 5-6 miles, due to problem with my left knee. It locked up, making even the slightest lateral movements painful. I limped to the nearest pub, and called a taxi - after a well-earned pint, of course!

The problem cleared, after a day or so’s rest, and I was able to resume my normal lunchtime circular walk without any further trouble, but I was conscious of this happening again. After taking advice from colleagues, who are probably fitter than me, I looked around for a suitable knee restraint. I then encountered the new-age problem of far too much choice, and too many conflicting reviews – how do you tell which are genuine?

Eventually I bit the bullet and bought a suitable knee brace from a well-known online store, and it seemed to do the trick – more on that later. The logical next step was to attempt another hike, whilst wearing the brace, but I then came up against family concerns. Anyone would think I was hiking across Dartmoor or the Brecon Beacons, and it was son Matthew who showed himself as being far more concerned and protective than Mrs PBT’s.

Her only concern was where exactly would I be walking, so I agreed to leave a synopsis and a sketched-out route for her, should the need arise. It was only a short walk to get me back in the swing of things, and basically involved finishing off the stretch I failed to complete last time.

I didn’t want to repeat any of the previous route, so the question was how to get to Knockholt Pound, and the Three Horseshoes, which was the point I’d limped to back in July?  Some online research revealed a bus service running from Orpington station to the pub. I could then walk the three and a half miles or so, to Dunton Green, from where I’d be able to take the train back to Tonbridge. Easy-peasy!

So last Monday, I used my Senior Railcard and took the train to Orpington. I then exited straight into the bus rank, on the north side of the station, and waited for the R05 bus. Bus travel is free for me, courtesy of my Senior Citizens Bus Pass, so once on the small, single-deck bus I enjoyed a half-hour journey, through leafy suburbia, out of Orpington, Green Street Green and the delightfully named Pratt’s Bottom.

The bus deposited me, directly opposite the Three Horseshoes, and after crossing the road, I headed off along the narrow, but virtually traffic-free, Chipstead Lane. The bus had climbed steadily out of Pratt’s Bottom, and the road continued to do the same for a half-mile or so, before reaching the point where the NDW crosses. This is virtually the summit of this section of the North Downs, and after following the path steadily eastwards, it then turned sharply towards the south skirting an area of woodland.

Emerging from the trees, I was rewarded with a spectacular view over the Vale of Holmesdale, spoiled somewhat by the presence (both visual as well as audible) of the M25 motorway. To my right I could see Chevening House and its surrounding parkland – the property being the official grace & favour home of the serving Foreign Secretary. I understand there is currently a bit of a spat going on, between the new incumbent Liz Truss, and the disgraced former holder of the position, Dominic Raab – he of the closed Cyprus beach fiasco, as to which of them has the right to use this imposing pile.

The pair certainly don't spoil another couple and with luck, they might end up battering each other to death, but I digress, as a long steep descent then followed, down from the top of the escarpment. Unfortunately, it led directly towards the noise of the encroaching London Orbital Motorway, but halfway down I noticed a handily situated bench, where I stopped to eat a couple of the cheese rolls, I’d packed in my rucksack.

Continuing my descent, I passed a farm, before joining the B2211 Chevening Road. The latter runs parallel to, and almost within touching distance of the M25. Then, after a right turn at a roundabout, it joins the A224 road, which runs down from Bromley. Fortunately, there is a pavement, and even better, it leaves the M25 behind.

The relief is short-lived, as the road into Dunton Green crosses the M26, the so-called Wrotham Spur, that allows traffic travelling eastbound on the M20, to directly join the M25. This small section of Kent is definitely no place to live, if you wish to escape from traffic noise.

Prior to the bridge over the M26, a road forks off sharp left, towards Otford, and overlooking the junction is the imposing Rose & Crown. I might have once called in, back in the dim and distant past, but there was no chance of a drink, last Monday. The pub is currently closed, undergoing major renovation works, as the attached photo shows. Somewhat optimistically, it is supposed to be re-opening, in time for the Christmas period.

I carried on along the A224, crossing the bridge over the M26, when what did I spy in the distance? A pub, of course, but thinking it was the Miner’s Arms – a Greene King house I’ve never been overly struck on, paid little attention, until it came clearly into view.  It was in fact, the Duke’s Head, a white-painted and weather-boarded old pub which, I've never really noticed before, let alone set foot in. according to WhatPub,

According to WhatPub,  it was once a coaching inn, but also according to the website, the Duke’s Head shouldn’t have been open on a Monday. In addition, it was supposed to be located down a side street, rather than the main road. I’d obviously read the map incorrectly, but with the front door well and truly open, the pub was definitely welcoming customers across its threshold.

I popped inside to find one customer sat at the bar, a young barman behind it and the landlord busying himself with a number of different pub-related tasks. The bank of four hand pulls on the counter, was devoid of any clips so more in expectation I asked which cask ales were on, only to be told, “none at the moment.” They did have a good selection of lagers on tap, so after asking mine host which one he recommend, I was told without hesitation, that Heineken was the one to go for.

Heineken it was then, and in that particular moment in time, it really hit the spot. I didn’t have long to savour it, as I could see from my phone there was a train due in 20 minutes. The lone drinker at the bar told me there was a tarmac path leading from the adjacent recreation ground direct to Dunton Green station., so after thanking both him and the landlord, I set off across the fields to catch the train home.

Arriving back in Tonbridge, I managed to grab a “walk-in” haircut at my usual barbers, before making my way home. My knee had held up well, as on top of the four miles of trail-walking, there was an additional mile to and from the station.

Sadly, my optimism was short lived, because on Friday, Matthew and I took a trip up to that there London place. We walked our socks off, and without realizing it, clocked up over 20,000 steps – if you include that mile each way, to the station and back. 20,000 steps equate to 10 miles, and without the benefit of a brace, my knee really felt it.

I’ve been hobbling around in discomfort, all day, and should really have strapped that support around the joint before leaving. If I’m honest, neither of us expected to do that much walking, but I won’t make that mistake a third time.

There will be a full report about our London visit, in the fullness of time, but in the meantime Monday’s short walk along the NDW, means I have now completed two thirds of the trail, with just over 40 miles to go. 

I would like to finish the walk this year, but it depends on variables such as the weather, the rapidly fading hours of available daylight, plus that lower left limb of mine. If any of these reasons conspire against me, then completing the NDW will be something to look forward to next year,  come the spring.