A brief catch-up

I went on another bus trip yesterday, and it’s almost as though these days out, by public transport, have become a regular Friday event. Yesterday’s trip was organised by West Kent CAMRA, and whilst I am no longer a member of the Campaign for Real Ale, I am still on their mailing list, and receive regular updates along with their newsletter.

Prior to lock-down, the branch introduced these end of the week bus trips as a means of getting out into parts of the branch area that were either difficult, or even impossible to reach during the evening. I am referring of course, to being able to reach outlying locations by public transport, and whilst this provides a reasonable service during the day, public transport is nearly always, non-existent at night. The situation doesn’t really apply to rail services, as these tend to run well into the evening, but on the other hand, trains run to far fewer places than buses

By their very nature, the daytime CAMRA bus trips cater mainly for retired, or otherwise non-working people, with those in the former category usually having bus passes as well. This is where I come in, and whilst I have missed a few trips recently, due to them clashing with other events, I am happy to join my former CAMRA colleagues in visiting some of these outlying pubs, wherever possible.

Yesterday’s trip took in three pubs to the north of Tonbridge, including one that afforded the opportunity of a spot of lunch. Full details will be revealed in a separate post, but the really positive thing which struck all six of us who took part in the trip, was how busy all the three pubs were.The fine weather may have had something to do with it, but we got the impression that this wasn’t the overriding factor. Their popularity might have been down to the day of the week – Friday, but again I feel this was a minor factor, rather than a major one.

The previous day saw Mrs PBT’s and I making a trip to IKEA. The Swedish store has two outlets within relatively close distance to Bailey Towers, namely Croydon and Lakeside. We opted for the latter, as it allowed me to use my Dartford Crossing account – last used in February 2021! It is only a 30-mile/30-minute journey, but I know from the times I used to travel to Norfolk that congestion at the approaches to the Dartford Tunnel, can often considerably increase this time. Also, as Friday is invariably the worst day of the week for travelling, it made sense to schedule our visit for a Thursday.

Luck was on our side for both outward and return trips, although it is usually the former where the hold-ups occur. The stretch where the A2 joins the northbound M25 is normally a notorious bottleneck, but on Thursday we were able to maintain the 60mph speed limit. Remembering to take the older, left-hand bore, we were through the tunnel in next to no time, and after negotiating the numerous roundabouts at Thurrock, were driving into the car park at IKEA.

IKEA was also devoid of the crowds which normally plague the place – families on a cheap day, whilst their kids run amuck around the store. We therefore felt at ease ditching the face-coverings because as one HSE official said to me the other day, distance and ventilation are the key factors in reducing the risk of infection, far more so than surface disinfection.

Unfortunately, the replacement office chair that Mrs PBT’s selected, was out of stock when we reached the warehouse area on the lower floor. That didn’t stop her from buying various plants, associated pots, plus one or two other items “that might come in handy.” The psychologists responsible for the layout of the store are rather clever in that respect.

We had to go for a meal, of course, and what could be more IKEA and more Swedish than meatballs? Priced at just £5.50 per plate, Eileen had chips with hers, whilst I went for the healthier (slightly), mashed potato. Topped off with peas and gravy the meal was tasty and satisfying, without being over-filling. There was a decent cup of coffee, priced at £1.50, to finish up with, and then surprise, surprise, as we joined the queues downstairs for the checkouts, what should be lurking in one of the freezers, but packs of frozen Swedish meatballs. (We picked up two packs, as you do).

Continuing the "cheap coffee theme" for a moment, earlier that morning, I broke my boycott of Wetherspoons by calling in for one of their coffees. I had an appointment at the barbers, and needed some change, in order to tip the hairdresser – see my post on tipping, and reluctant to fork out three quid for a Costa (nice though they are), a £1.20 refillable coffee from Spoons would provide both the change plus the caffeine fix I needed.

With time of the essence, I went for the take-out option, so no refill, but it did allow me the chance to sit down and enjoy my drink, in a sunny spot, next to the river. Pensioners enjoying a coffee or two, seemed to make up the majority of the Humphrey Bean’s customers that morning, but with just a fleeting visit to go by, perhaps I missed the usual early morning Stella drinkers.

I did stop to take a few photos of the set-up, close to the bar, promoting their forthcoming Beer Festival. The pub was also celebrating 12 consecutive years in the Good Beer Guide, so it must be doing something right as far as the CAMRA’s are concerned! It’s still not my scene though, but to be fair the Bean certainly provides a thriving and useful amenity for the local community, and guess what? There wasn’t a mobility scooter in sight, inside or out!

I shall sign off there, as you won’t want to read about my haircut!

A ride, by bus, along the edge of the forest

Friday just gone, saw yours truly heading off on another bus trip, and on what turned out to be the hottest day of the year so far, what better way to spend it than visiting four rural pubs along the upper reaches of the Medway Valley, close to the route of the former Three Bridges–Tunbridge Wells rail line.

A spot of detective work revealed that Metro Bus operate an hourly service (No. 291), between Tunbridge Wells and Crawley, via East Grinsted and Forest Row. Knowing there is a rich seam of attractive rural pubs along this route, prompted me into allocating Friday as the day for trying out this route.

The beauty of the 291 route, is its frequency, and with buses running in both directions, at hourly intervals, the scope for visiting three or four pubs over the course of the day, suddenly becomes very real. So, with printed timetable to hand, I set off armed with bus pass, plus a packed lunch, to make the short journey to Tunbridge Wells, and then see where the 291 would take me.

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, as I stood waiting at the bus stop, opposite the entrance to the Royal Victoria Place shopping centre. I opted for the 10.48 bus, with the intention of travelling as far as Coleman’s Hatch, a tiny settlement on the edge of Ashdown Forest. I could then take a short, 10-minute walk up to the atmospheric Hatch Inn; an attractive, low-beamed old pub, which started life as three 15^th Century cottages.  

It all depended on bus arrival and departure times, plus that old chestnut and bane of many a pub-ticker’s schedule, pub opening times. The bus I was travelling on would drop me opposite the church in Coleman’s Hatch at 11.18, and with a 10-minute walk to the Hatch Inn, I would arrive just in time for an 11.30 opening time. There was conflicting information on the pub’s actual opening, with What Pub stating 11.30, and the pub’s website also showing 11.30 opening, but midday for food. I phoned the pub, several times, the day before, but no-one answered, so throwing caution to the wind I went for broke, alighted opposite the church, and headed uphill towards the Forest and the Hatch Inn.

The forest roads were surprisingly busy, and with speeding motorists, driving like there was no tomorrow, I needed my wits about me to avoid being hit. After cresting the brow of a hill, and traversing a busy junction, I could see the pub, a short distance away where the road began to level out again. As I approached, I could see lights on inside, and the outside Gin Bar appeared open as well.

All were good signs and so was the front door, which opened as I clicked the latch. Full of confidence, I approached the bar, only to be told by a woman who appeared from behind a curtain, that the pub was closed. A brief conversation about opening times then ensued, which resulted with her saying that if I only wanted a drink, I could have one! Perhaps she took pity on me, but whatever the reason, I accepted her offer.

Thinking ahead, I thought that if I just had a half, I could still make the 12.02 return service, and visit the next pub. Harvey’s Best, Old Ale plus a beer from Bedlam Brewery, were the choices, and despite my reticence that the beer might not have been pulled through yet, from the previous evening, I opted for a half of Old.

I was glad it was just a half, as the beer was a little “tired,” but I was also glad of the opportunity of nosing around the pub and taking a few photos. My only previous visit to the Hatch, had been on a vintage bus trip, organised by Maidstone CAMRA, back in 2015, and with a bus load of thirsty CAMRA members, in what is quite a small pub, it was difficult to take any meaningful photos.

So, with just myself and the barmaid present, I was able to snap away at will and appreciate all that one might expect from such an ancient building. This included the low sloping ceilings, supported by ancient beams, and a bar which occupies a central location. This opens up either side, into what are two separate rooms, with a log fire at one end providing a warming welcome.

The barmaid was on the phone as I was about to depart, but I shouted my thanks as I made for the door. It was downhill most of the way back to Holy Trinity church, and the bus stop for services back to Tunbridge Wells. I arrived in plenty of time, and although the bus was several minutes late, it was pleasant standing there in the warm, early spring sunshine.

My next port of call was only a few stops away, and it was a pub I hadn’t been to before, despite having driven past it quite few times. The Gallipot Inn, on the edge of Upper Hartfield, is an attractive, 16^th Century pub, close to the edge of the road.  It is a long, low building with a lower portion constructed from blocks of local sandstone, and a weatherboard upper section.

The internal layout seemed quite similar to that of the Hatch Inn, with a beer range almost to match. This time it was Cellar Head Session Pale complementing the Sussex Best although I stuck with the Harvey’s. There were a few diners inside, some with their canine companions tucked away under the tables but given the fine weather I took my pint out and sat at one of the tables enjoying my pint in the warm sunshine.

With very few cars passing by, it seemed a world away from the troubles of the outside world. I wasn’t alone as there was a couple and their dog, plus the odd jobbing builder – some building work was taking place at the rear of the pub. I later found out, after talking to a work colleague, that there is a pleasant garden behind the Gallipot, with views back across the valley, over to the High Weald.

An hour later, I was at the bus stop, directly in front of the pub, waiting for the next bus heading east. I jumped on and sat down for just a few stops until we reached the tiny village of Withyham, home to the legendary Dorset Arms. I say legendary because this lovely old pub has a soft spot in the hearts of those who appreciate unspoilt country pubs.

The Dorset started life as a 16^th Century farmhouse before coming an alehouse in the  18^th Century. For decades the pub has forms part of the Buckhurst Estate, owned by Earl De La Warr, whose arms are depicted on the pub sign. It is a listed building, complete with log fie in winter, and a wealth of old beams. It retains a public bar, which looks through, in places, to a much larger restaurant area.

I have always known the Dorset as a Harvey’s pub, but it appears that the brewery only leased it from the estate, and it has now reverted back to its original owners. My last visit to the pub involved an overnight stay in the village, whilst walking the Weald Way, long-distance footpath. My companion Eric and I had stayed at a B&B, housed in the Old Post Office, opposite the pub, and had enjoyed an excellent meal that evening, along with several pints of Harvey’s Best.

I’m not sure whether the Old Post Office still functions as a B&B, but today the Dorset offers overnight accommodation. I remember the father of a friend of ours telling us that him and his wife spent their honeymoon at the pub, which doesn’t surprise me as Tony was a connoisseur of unspoiled, traditional pubs, long before appreciation of old alehouses became more mainstream.

I certainly enjoyed my long overdue, return visit, sitting at the bar enjoying the finest pint of Sussex Best I’d had in a long time. There was a good mix of customers in the public bar, including, but not confined to, drinkers like me.  The bar staff were friendly, with the barmaid on first name terms with the group of carpenters who were celebrating the birthday of one of their team. On the other side of the partition, the restaurant looked busy, and I imagine it must have been reservations only.

I drank up and walked over to the bus stop, for the short ride to Groombridge, a village that is part in Kent and part in Sussex. The oldest part is in Kent, and at the end of a row of rustic looking, brick-built cottages, is the Crown Inn, overlooking the village green. The pub dates from the 16^th Century, and with its brick floors, old beams, and several interconnecting rooms, it is not hard to imagine it during those times.

Groombridge Place, a 17^th Century moated, manor house is at the bottom of the hill, and the extensive gardens and “enchanted forest” are a popular visitor attraction during the summer months. Groombridge was also once an important railway junction, but all that remains today are the heritage trains that operate on the Spa Valley Railway, between Tunbridge Wells West and Eridge.

Returning to the pub, Harvey’s Best and Larkin’s Traditional, were the cask ales on sale. I took my pint of Trad outside, and sat at one of the wooden bench tables, enjoying the view as well as the excellent Larkin’s beer. I also finished off the pre-prepared cheese rolls I had brought with me, by way of lunch. BRAPA would have been proud of me, I chuckled to myself, although he would have tried scoffing them inside the pub!

There was only time for one pint, as the Crown closes between 3 and 5.30 pm. I also had a bus to catch back to Tunbridge Wells. I was lucky with connections, because as the 291 pulled up in Tunbridge Wells, opposite the War Memorial, the No. 7 to Tonbridge was just about to leave. I jumped off the former and hopped onto the latter. It wasn’t quite so lucky when the bus picked up a full complement of pushing, shoving and plague-infected school kids, from outside the local grammar school.

I was glad of the FFP2 face mask I was wearing, but if truth be known I didn’t let the minor inconvenience of a bus load of excited kids, released for the weekend, detract from what had been one of the most enjoyable and productive bus trips, I’ve experienced to date.

 

Bath time - complete and unabridged version

I finally made it to Bath last Friday, having been thwarted three weeks previously by named storm Eunice. It was almost four decades since I was last in the city, which is obviously far too long, and despite the heavy rain that greeted my arrival, it was good to be back and renew my acquaintance with this lovely old spa town.

I journeyed by rail, from Tonbridge, via Charing Cross and Paddington. Arriving at the latter and admiring Brunel’s magnificent glass-roofed train-shed, was a reminder that the station was another place I hadn’t visited for many years either. My Advanced Ticket stipulated travel on the 10.32, but as I stood eyeing up the departure board, flat white in hand, it became evident that this service would not be leaving on time. 

Fortunately, the delay which was due to “operational difficulties,” was only 10 minutes, and as soon as the platform was announced, I joined the scrum rushing to secure a seat on the train. I had a seat reservation, although it was unclear from both the ticket, or the ridiculous pictogram, just below the luggage rack, whether seat 76 was a window or an aisle one. I decided it was the former and settled down to enjoy the journey 

Reading was soon reached, as was Swindon, and as the train headed towards the next stop (Chippenham), I noticed that the rain, that had been forecast, had indeed arrived. It had been sunny when I’d left home, a couple of hours earlier, but rain it was and as we headed further west, I realised it was probably in for the day. 

The train arrived at Bath, only five minutes behind schedule, and after
donning my hat, and zipping up me coat, I headed off, down into the city, heading for my first port of call. I was due to meet up with a select few members of the Beer & Pub Forum, and the pub I was heading for was actually the second one on the itinerary. The early birds of the group  started off at the Crystal Palace, one of several Fuller’s pubs in the city, but the timings were such that I would join the others at the Coeur de Lion.

This, little gem, is tucked-away down a narrow side street, close to the abbey, and is the only pub in Bath that I remember from previous visits to the city. The Coeur was a Devenish house back then – a lone outpost for this regional brewery, based in Weymouth. Unfortunately, the company got into financial difficulties in the mid 1980’s and after a succession of owners, closed 10 years later. Today, the pub is owned by Abbey Ales, a local brewery based in Bath, and a local success story, as today the company owns four pubs in the city, including a couple of real classics.

I found the Coeur without too much trouble, but after stepping inside from the rain, and looking around, I could see no sign of the people I was supposed to be meeting up with.  I was conscious of the fact that I didn’t have anyone’s phone number – slightly surprising as I thought I had Martin’s. I did have the Tapatalk app on my phone, as this is an application that seems to be favoured by the Beer & Pub’s Forum. I’d tried connecting with the app whilst on the train but needed a password to access my account. The password, of course, was in a book, back home, which just goes to prove that such things really are the bane of modern life.

 

Returning to the Coeur de Lion, I noticed a sign in the corner that pointed to an upstairs room, so after climbing the steep and rather narrow stairs, I was relieved to discover Martin, Frome Jon and Oxford Nick sat around a small corner table, tucked away in the corner. There was no bar upstairs, so Martin very kindly nipped back down to get me a swift half of Bath Ales Best Bitter. Shortly after, he had to repeat the exercise for Mick aka “Citra,” who arrived about 5 minutes later. It was a shame in some respects that the Coeur had been so crowded, as I was unable to take any interior photos, and for my part, it would have been good to stay for another; this visit to Bath being the first time, I’d tried Abbey Ales. The food also looked good, although straight after arriving in the city, was a little early to be tucking into a full-blown meal – more about that later!

However, with all five members of the party now assembled, it was time to move on, and the pub we were heading to was an absolute corker. First licensed in 1760, the Star Inn retains many of its original features, including 18^th Century bar fittings and wooden benches. There are four small rooms, with bench seating around the walls, wood panelling and open fires. The smallest room has a single bench, usually occupied by the pub's older customers

The Star remains a classic example of a multi-roomed English public house, that is virtually untouched by time. The pub is featured on CAMRA’s National Inventory of historic pub interiors, and is famous for its Draught Bass, served direct from the cask, and poured from a jug. As we walked in and made our way to the room at the far left, the pub certainly didn’t disappoint. 

Given the Star’s reputation for Bass, it seemed rude not to give it a try, and ordering by the jug, seemed the way to go. The option was either three- or four-pint servings, so three of us opted for a three pinta. I remain unconvinced that drawing the beer off into a jug, and then poring it into the customer’s glass, makes any difference at all, but as Martin remarked, it is a nice piece of theatre.  In over 40 years of drinking, I can only think of one other pub that used this practice, and that was the Ram's Head (Owd Tupps) at Denshaw; a 450-year-old inn, high on the moors above Oldham and Rochdale.

Back in the 1970's, the pub stocked Younger's XXPS Scotch Bitter, direct from casks kept behind the bar. In order to achieve the thick creamy head beloved by northern drinkers, the bar staff would draw some off some beer first into a large enamel jug, and then pour it from a height of around 10"-12" into the customer's glass. XXPS has long since been discontinued, and looking at the Ram’s Head website, the pub is now a rather upmarket “gastro-pub.” The cask beers today are now served by traditional hand-pump, rather than the time-honoured way that is still retained by the Star.

Two three-pint jugs of Bass, between five people, worked out at just over two pints each. Other beers were available, including Bell Ringer & White Friar from Abbey Ales, Dark Star Hophead, and Wye Valley Butty Bach. Most of us stuck with the Bass, although Mick gave the Butty Bach a try. I was getting peckish by this time, and in need of something to soak up the beers, I grabbed a cheese and onion bap, just to keep me going, little thinking that would be the only solid food (apart from a packet of Pipers Crisps) to pass my lips.

It was time to move on, but I was really glad we called in at the Star, to enjoy and appreciate a bit of our fast-vanishing pub heritage, as well as the chance of crossing another National Inventory pub off the list. It wasn’t far to the next pub, and as an added bonus, the rain had eased off as well. The Bell which, although different to the Star, still proved to be a real cracker. I thought I had carried out my research for the Bath trip quite thoroughly, but it wasn’t until just now, when I logged on to the pubs’ website, that I realised this was the famous music pub, purchased in 2013 by around 500 of its customers, fans and workers, and run as a cooperative. 

It is also the pub with the black & white photo of some of these owners, leaning out the windows, along with a group of musicians posing with their instruments, on top of the flat roof extension, to the left of the main building. Free live music sessions are held at the Bell, three or four times a week, and because of this, the pub gets endorsements from no lesser luminaries than Robert Plant and Peter Gabriel.I really must pay better attention next time, as even more of a lapse in research was the presence of a pizzeria in the garden, offering freshly made pizza. NOBODY mentioned this, even though I am sure the subject of food had been raised. Paul was hungry, and a nice helping of freshly made, sourdough pizza, at that stage of proceedings, would have been gratefully appreciated!

The beer offering WAS much more obvious, and with the Bell offering seven different cask ales, no-one was likely to be disappointed. I particularly enjoyed a fine pint of Nine Lives Porter from Parkway Brewing Co. The internal layout of the Bell consists of a lengthy, single bar at the front, with a raised area, which acts as the stage, at one end. There is also a small Back Bar, used mainly for practice and open-mike, music sessions.

We stayed in the Bell until just after 4pm, as that was the time the next
pub opened. Just a short walk away, the Brewed Boy is a crafty paradise, serving up to 10 craft beers on Key keg, plus a large assortment of bottled and canned beers. The place looked like it might have been a shop in a previous life, and with both space and seating at a premium, we were lucky to get a seat and a table.

It was pleasant and bright inside and as Frome Jon knew the owner/proprietor, that helped things along. I had a rather nice Milk Chocolate Stout, from Imaginary Friends – who thinks up the names for these breweries? A few of us then helped Martin finish a can of Blueberry Weisse from Pastore – a mixed-fermentation sour and wild brewery based in his former home village of Waterbeach. This quite challenging beer is a Berliner Weiss style of beer, and if you have ever tasted one of those you will know how sour they are!

We headed back into the city centre after, I was looking for a pub that served food, although some of the others were considering the Old Green Tree. Again, I hadn’t done my homework properly, as if I had, I’d have know the latter was another CAMRA National Inventory pub. I missed out there, and so did my companions, so apologies to all for allowing my stomach to dictate the choice of pub.

We ended up at the Raven, a pub recommended by Mrs PBT’s niece. It was a nice place, but rather crowded. It was Friday evening though, and given the large student population of Bath, not entirely surprising. We managed to bag a table, but with a 20-minute wait for food I began to doubt I’d have time to eat a meal, and then find my way back to station. It wasn’t quite the ending I had in mind, but there is a strange relationship between beer and time whereby the later seems to speed up, as consumption of the former increases.

Although I had a rough idea of the direction to head in, I wasn’t 100% sure of the way. I was booked on a train with a specific departure time, so I didn’t want to miss it, so reluctantly I said a hurried farewell to my companions and headed off in the general direction of the station. It was dark outside, which made it difficult to read the map, and I had to stop and ask a few people, along the way. I dived into a Sainsbury’s Local and picked up their £3.50 Meal Deal, which I just had time to eat on the platform, before the London train pulled in.

I bumped into Martin briefly, at the station. He was heading in the opposite direction, back to his overnight accommodation in Bristol, no doubt in readiness for some more GBG ticking the following day. It has been good to catch up with him again, and also to meet the “southern contingent” of the Beer & Pubs Forum. It had been good too, renewing my acquaintance with Bath after a gap of nearly 40 years. I won’t leave it so long next time!