The shape of things to come - or does trouble come in threes?

Okay, it’s been six days since my last post – an article which ended with me mentioning I would be joining the local CAMRA’s on a walkabout of pubs, at the north end of Tonbridge. Well, the event went ahead, with me being one of six participants, and it was a most enjoyable evening, but I’m going to leave you hanging on a while longer in order to comment on the news of a sad, and quite unexpected brewery closure.

Sheffield-based Kelham Island Brewery, has announced it will be closing later this month, following 32 years in the industry. The brewery started life in 1990, in purpose-built premises, adjacent to the Fat Cat pub at Alma Street, in the heart of Sheffield’s Kelham Island quarter. It was the brainchild of the pub’s owner, Dave Wickett, and was the first new independent brewery in the city, for over fifty years. Production at first, was around 10 barrels per week, but a new brewery in 1999, increased capacity to 50 barrels. The original building became an additional outside bar for the Fat Cat pub. In 2008, the brewery expanded again, and the weekly output increased to around 100 barrels.

Kelham Island was one of the first exponents of pale, hoppy English-stye beers, with their 5.2% abv Pale Rider, winning CAMRA’s Champion Beer of Britain (CBOB) in 2004. The company also provided a fertile training ground, for aspiring brewers, with several ex-Kelham Island employees, going on to either set-up, or work with, a number of other influential breweries. These include Brewdog, Thornbridge and Welbeck.

 

It is therefore doubly sad to learn that this pioneering brewery is to close. The Fat Cat will remain open, but Kelham Island Brewery beer will only be available on cask and in bottles while stock lasts. It is also both sad and frustrating on a personal note, as I have a trip to Sheffield, planned for 11 days’ time, and some time spent in the Kelham Island quarter, featured high on my priority list. I still plan to head down that way, as I will be meeting up with pub-ticking legend, Retired Martin, and pub connoisseur, Sheffield Hatter, who is also a pub-going legend in his own right, but the closure of Kelham Island Brewery will put something of a dampener on the whole experience.

No official reasons have been given for the closure, and whilst there is little point in speculating, it’s worth bearing in mind that difficult trading conditions/financial problems, have been cited as responsible for two other recent closures. Beatnikz Republic– a relative newcomer on the scene plus, just the other day, Exe Valley, a brewery with almost 40 years of history behind it, and one of the first generation, new brewery start-ups, inspired by CAMRA, decided to call it a day.

The problems at Beatnikz Republic seem largely financial, with Covid being a significant contributory factor. The impact of the various lock-downs, and the ensuing stop/start/stop in production, have meant lower sales than anticipated. This, coupled with the poor economic outlook, has meant the brewing side of the business is no longer viable. The Beatnikz Republic NQ Bar, in Manchester’s Northern Quarter, will continue trading as normal, as it is a separate company that is not impacted directly by the brewery’s closure.

Exe Valley’s problems appear similar in nature, with the company blaming the reality of the current economic situation for themselves, their customers, and the hospitality industry in general, for the decision to close. The brewery claim to have explored all the options and done everything they could to make things work but with so much uncertainty, had found it impossible to find a long-term solution.

The brewery was established in 1984 as Barron Brewery by Richard Barron, the former landlord of the Three Tuns pub, who converted a redundant cowshed into the brewery. In 1991, Richard was joined by Guy Sheppard, and the name of the company changed to Exe Valley Brewery. The plant was expanded and upgraded at the same time. Richard retired in 2003 and Guy ran the brewery until 2020, and then has continued to offer advice after its sale of the company to husband-and-wife team Libby and Kevin Stroud-Kroon.

On a personal  note, I'm not that familiar with any of these breweries, as we rarely, if ever, see their beers on sale in this part of the country, but to see three breweries throwing in the towel in as many days is perhaps a sad indictment of the times. As many industry commentators have pointed out, these three are unlikely to be the last. So, sad times, not just for the drinkers, customers, and workers, but for the individuals behind each of these companies. All these individuals will have put their hearts, souls, and their dreams into their respective concerns, and to see everything come crashing down, must be devastating. 

It's rather pointless going over the same ground, as the obvious conclusion has to be there are just too many breweries in existence in the UK today. CAMRA of course will tell you otherwise, as will many of the organisation’s members, but in a declining market, beset by rapidly rising prices, it’s dog eat world out there. There is only so much trade to go round, and with each new start up the market, and the opportunities therein, become ever more diluted - when will CAMRA realise this basic, economic fact?

Ironically, whilst researching the background to Devon-based Exe Valley Brewery, I discovered that in March 2021, there were 45 breweries operating in the county alone. If that doesn’t’ make the point, then I don’t know what does. It might also go a long way towards explain why, after nearly 40 years of brewing, Exe Valley had to call it a day.

Footnote: Following my trip to Sheffield, on 19th May, the majority of the photos on this post have been updated, and now depict all things Kelham Island. I am also pleased to report that I managed to sample two of the Kelham Brewery beers - Kelham Best and Pale Rider.

The last two photos, which originated from my library, depict micro-breweries in general, rather than any of the concerns referred to in the article. 

 

Boring but necessary domestic stuff

It’s been the best part of a week since I published a post on the blog, and it’s all down to a combination of inertia, plus a necessary focus on other things. You see Mrs PBT’s, and I have been rather busy on the domestic front, not so much with spring cleaning - we’re a little late for that, but instead we’ve been de-cluttering on quite a grand scale.

To cap it all, I hung a new pair of curtains in the back bedroom on Thursday – a task that was no way near as simple as it sounds. Tip, watch a couple of the “How to” You Tube videos before starting, rather than waiting until you are halfway through! I could also have asked Mrs PBT’s, but that would have been too obvious. Task completed, and they look very good – “hanging well,” as they say in the interior design business.

I took four bags of clothes to the charity shop on Friday – none of which were mine, and there were another half dozen bags to drop off at our local household waste centre on Sunday.  We had a pre-booked slot for midday, so with Matthew available to help, we enjoyed a pre-dump run at Chiddingstone Causeway Village Hall, first thing on Sunday morning.

Although I’m sure there are some who might disagree with me, I’m of the opinion that the pre-booking system works much better. It eliminates the queuing, for a start, and also, by eliminating bottlenecks, as far as possible, makes the whole experience that little bit smoother. Matthew helped me load the car up on Saturday, with enough scrap metal and redundant cabling to start our own totting business. It’s amazing how many computer and printer leads one accumulates over the years, to say nothing of chargers there are. It’s small wonder that the European Union passed a very sensible directive compelling manufacturers of such equipment to standardise the type of connections they use on their devices.

Of course, we in Global (Little) Britain don’t need such legislation because we’re “world beating” in everything we do. We certainly don’t need Johnny Foreigner telling us what to do, which reminds me how is the bonfire of “EU red tape” going now that we’ve cast of the shackles and regained the freedom, that we never lost on the first place?

Oh, wait a minute, we’ve been forced to introduce a huge pile of “red tape” of our own, after foolishly abandoning the friction-less trade that membership of the Single Market gave us. (Wasn’t that concept a British idea in the first place, championed by no less a person than former Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher? Sorry, getting a bit carried away here, but you have to call out stupidity and blatant own goals when you come across them.  

Back to the de-cluttering, I’ve managed two bags of books, plus two bags of clothes, and there’s more to come, and the process has continued outside of the house, with unwanted/expired items from shed, summerhouse and greenhouse also culled and awaiting their re-cycling destiny at the tip tomorrow.

I did manage a swift pint of Goacher’s Gold Star on Friday, at the Beer Seller in Tonbridge, having dropped the books plus the first lot of clothes off at two nearby charity shops. Matthew was finishing work early, so I arranged to meet him afterwards at the aforementioned pub. The Beer Seller was quiet for a Friday afternoon, with only a handful of customers present, apart from ourselves, and although we were sat in one of the alcoves, we could quite clearly hear the conversation at the bar.

The manager and a member of her staff was commenting on how quiet it was, and what the cause might be. Could it be the unseasonably cold weather, the interminable roadworks afflicting the own, or were the recent cost of living increases and the squeeze they were putting on people’s disposable income to blame?

The conclusion seemed to be the latter, which isn’t entirely surprising. I’ve recently had to increase our monthly direct debit payment for gas and electricity, by £97, with the threat of a further increase, come October, and with diesel now costing just under £1.80 a litre, I’m kind of glad my commute to work is now only three days, rather then five. Spare a thought for my two colleagues, who joined the company last year. One has a daily commute from Thanet, whilst the other drives in from Romney Marsh. Both locations are about as far away as one can get from this part of west Kent, so I have to admire their resilience as well as well as their dedication.

Back in the early 90’s, I had a long distance, daily commute by car, to Lewes and back – around trip of 60 miles each day. I suspect my colleagues both have a longer journey each day, and whilst they’re younger than me, I don’t envy that sort of drive on a daily basis. One of them has looked at putting up at a local hotel, for a couple of nights a week, but given the areas popularity with tourists (think Penshurst Place, Hever Castle, Knowle House and Chartwell), overnight rates aren’t exactly cheap – a fact I discovered for myself, whilst planning the next, and final stages of my North Downs Way walk.

So where is all this leading? Well, continuing with the cost-of-living theme, two particular online items caught my eye over the past couple of days. The first was a well-argued and thought-provoking post by veteran blogger Tandleman, about our old friend Wetherspoons. I somehow missed the article when it appeared a few days ago (I said I’d been distracted), but it was brought to my attention by Boak & Bailey, via their weekly Saturday round-up.

Tandleman’s article certainly attracted plenty of comments (48 at the last count), with the majority coming out in favour of the chain. I’ve got plenty of thoughts of my own regarding JDW and their maverick, and at times controversial, founder and chairman, but I shall save them for when I get round to writing an article about Spoons of my own – something I have been threatening to do for a long time!

The other article, which appeared on the BBC’s Worklife page, entitled “The sky-high cost of returning to the office,” consisted mainly of people whining about the increased costs they are now facing, following on from two years spent working at home. Employees who haven’t had to budget for train tickets, takeaway coffees or new office outfits for the past two years are now acutely aware of how much it costs to spend a day at their desks.

But two years without splashing out on transport, takeaway lunches, office wear and after-work drinks, has left many workers quid’s in. One woman even claimed to have saved £6,000 in six months, although the same individual is now complaining that her return train ticket to work has risen from £35 pre-pandemic to almost £50. Her employer had upped salaries to meet market rates but, she said "It’s really not enough”. 

Then there’s the other poor soul, too disorganised to do what many of us have done for years, namely knock up a packed lunch the night before, and leave it in the fridge until the following morning. Instead, this hapless individual grabs both breakfast and lunch around work. Her cheapest option is Pret a Manger, where “Very easily, one coffee, one little breakfast thing and lunch, ends up being £13.”  Then there are the snacks she gets from Tesco, “Which aren’t cheap either.”

I made my thoughts on working from home quite clear, at the height of the first lock-down, and have very little sympathy for either individual. However, after reading articles such as these, it’s not surprising that the country’s political leaders want workers back at their desks. Without daily commutes and dining a one’s desk, businesses of all types and sizes are losing out financially. One day of commuting is reportedly worth £82m to businesses in the UK, so no wonder city centre businesses want the people back.

The question that also needs asking, is working from home as efficient as its made out to be? It appears that in department such as the DVLA and the Passport Office, the answer is definitely a large NO! A colleague of mine has been waiting for his daughter’s passport to be renewed.  The Passport Office have a self-imposed 10-week maximum wait (itself a disgrace), but this period has already been passed. He has found it impossible to get through on the phone because, guess what, the staff are all working from home!

In such situations, accountability goes out the window. It’s not often I find myself agreeing with "haunted Victorian pencil" Jacob Rees-Mogg, but it’s high time people in public service, followed the example of those of us in the private sector, and got themselves back to their work places.

That’s more than enough ranting for one article, but at what appears a quiet time on the local beer scene, there hasn’t been much that’s topical to write about. I shall be joining the local CAMRA’s on Thursday evening, for a walkabout of the pubs at the north end of Tonbridge, which should be interesting. Spoiler alert, there aren't many pubs left in that part of the town, but until then…………

 

ps. The photo of the bookcase,  pre-dates the clear-out! 

The Chequers, Laddingford - a beer festival for the whole community

Regular readers of this blog will know that I am no longer a fan of large-scale beer festivals, although by this, I mean events held in large venues, where lots of different beers may be sampled. In the main these festivals tended to be CAMRA organised and CAMRA run events, and whilst this isn’t always exclusively the case, it’s a good enough description to convey what I am referring to.

My reasons for avoiding these events are many and varied, and also well-documented, so I won’t go into them here, but there are certain beer festivals, such as those organised by a local pub, that I am more than happy to attend. Pub beer festivals tend to be relatively small scale and combine the atmosphere of a traditional pub with the chance to sample a range of beers that the pub wouldn’t normally stock. They invariably attract a wide and varied crowd, which adds to their appeal, and often feature live music as well.

Such festivals sometimes take place within the confines of the pub, but more often than not, they are held in land adjoining it, such as the garden or sometimes a neighbouring field. This is because they are normally summer events, and to my mind, there is nothing finer than enjoying a few pints in the great outdoors. The beers and the serving area will normally be located in a marquee, or possibly an outbuilding, for both security reasons, and for protection against the vagaries of a typical English summer.

It is to just such an event that I went this Sunday, the day that happened to be the final one of my recent 11-day mini break. Although I’d enjoyed a couple of hikes over the course of the break, we hadn’t been out as much as a couple as I originally intended. Apparently, I’d picked the “wrong week,” as Mrs PBT’s was snowed under with tax and VAT returns, all courtesy of a motley collection of builders and tradesmen who seem to work for last minute dot com.

As my tax affairs are controlled by the company’s pay roll department, I don’t need to concern myself with such matters, as like it or not, the tax is deducted at source. Like most people on PAYE, I have little or no say in the amount of tax I pay, the upside being I don’t have to file a tedious tax return each year. This is not the case in the world of the self-employed, where tax owed, is paid on account, six months in advance and six in arrears.  To make things worse, HMRC can levy fines for late returns and/or payments, but this doesn’t seem to bother you average jobbing builder.

I mentioned before, carrier bags stuffed full of crumpled invoices and receipts, all liberally sprinkled with cement dust, being left in the front porch, just days away from the final deadline. Mrs PBT then has to pull out all the stops, to disentangle the mess and get the county’s finest tradesmen off the hook, sometimes with just hours to spare.  She does charge appropriately for this rushed, and at times quite fraught work, but as she points out, it feels like she is working solely for HMRC rather than the contractors concerned.

The long and the short of it, there was very little free time for us to go out somewhere as a couple. I had made tentative plans for a day trip to Salisbury, as a sort of post birthday treat to myself, but this was scuppered when realised the gas engineer was calling on the Friday, to service the boiler. All boring domestic stuff, but essential too, especially as our boiler is approaching the end of its serviceable life.

So, with time fast running out, I was determined to at least go somewhere before the 11 days were up and a fast-looming return to work. One idea was to knock off a further section of the North Downs Way, but that would have meant an early start on Sunday morning. Also, my knee was playing up again, the result of spending too much time out in the garden last week, and this is where the idea of attending a local beer festival came in.

I had it in the back of my mind that the Chequers at Laddingford were running their regular beer festival in honour of St George’s Day. This annual event takes place in the pub itself and also in the extensive garden behind. Despite the festival having run for “years,” I had never been before, so Sunday was the perfect opportunity to make amends. The Chequers is an attractive oak-beamed building dating from the 15^th Century, and it is no exaggeration to describe it as the heart of village life. The pub hosts a variety of events, including the aforementioned beer festival. Matthew and I made an evening visit there, at the beginning of December and enjoyed a nice, home-cooked meal, but Sunday was the first time I have been there in daylight.

The entry in What Pub, states that Beltring railway station is just 20 minutes’ walk away from the pub, so deciding to put this to the test, I boarded the 12.33 train from Tonbridge. Beltring is the first stop after Paddock Wood, on the Medway Valley Line, and is little more than a halt. It was constructed primarily for the army of hop pickers who arrived yearly, each autumn, to work at the nearby Whitbread Hop Farm, but today sees very few passengers.

There are two very basic and rather bare looking concrete platforms – and up and a down one on either side of the tracks. The only concession to modernity are the steel and glass shelters – one on each platform. There is no car park, and barely any room for a vehicle to pull in and drop someone off. To my surprise one other passenger alighted from the train, apart from me, although having stopped to take a few photos, I didn’t see which way he went.

After crossing the tracks, I headed off along the road, in the direction of Yalding, with the intention of taking a cross-country footpath to Laddingford. The road was much busier than I anticipated, but fortunately, in most parts, there was a verge where I could take refuge from on-coming traffic. It was nowhere near as bad as the recent “Hampshire experience” described by GBG ticker Simon, aka BRAPA, but I still needed to keep my wits about me. I was rather relieved therefore to reach the shady, tree-lined footpath and branch off towards Laddingford.

Towards the end of the path, there was a narrow concrete footbridge, over a stream, and it wasn’t long afterwards that I could hear the sounds of people enjoying themselves. The path enters Laddingford at the side of the pub and so, true to the What Pub description, I’d arrived in the village 20 minutes after leaving Beltring station.

The festival was in full swing, with an ample crowd of people sat at the front of the pub, and dozens more at the rear, occupying the extensive garden. Two women, sat at a nearby table, asked if they could help me. I’d already twigged that the event operated on a token basis – easier for the organisers, as the cash is concentrated in one place, but something of a pain for punters, as you have to guess in advance, how many pints, or halves, you are going to consume.

I opted for £8 worth to start with, plus a £1 charity donation. All beers were priced at £2 per half, regardless of strength and, as is normally the case at such events, a printed sheet giving details of beer, brewery, style, along with tasting notes, was available to all that wanted one.

I had intended to stick with pints, but with a good selection of interesting beers available, all good intentions were quickly, abandoned, and I reverted to my normal beer festival habit, of drinking halves. My excuse was, I could try double the number of beers, but can beer really be tasted by drinking half pints?

Charles Dickens famously said that beer cannot be tasted in a sip, and he was right, of course. The Great American Beer Festival with its (in)famous, 1 oz pours, begs to differ, but a twentieth of a pint amounts to not much more than a sip, whereas a half pint equates to ten such thimbles! The majority of the beers were stored in an old oast house, at the side of the pub, which looked as if it may have been a stable block, back in the day. There were 11 in total, dispensed straight from the cask, in true beer festival fashion. For those who prefer vertical drinking and standing at the bar, three more cask ales were available inside the pub.

There were also a couple of semi-permanent, marquee type buildings at the rear of the pub, with a band playing country & western numbers in one of them. I found myself a seat, plus a table at a sheltered spot, outside one of these tents, and made myself comfortable in a position where I could watch the goings on, whilst enjoying a few of the beers. I tried four in total, two of which would have been preferable in pints, but all decent brews in their own way. I also grabbed myself a cheeseburger, because it would have been rude not to have done so!

I stayed for around an hour and a half, chilling out whilst soaking up the atmosphere of this community-oriented beer festival. I allowed 30 minutes for the walk back to the station, arriving in plenty of time for the train, and was the only passenger to board at Beltring. 

As for the festival itself, it was a nice, friendly, well-organised, laid-back, and chilled out event. The brief snapshot I experienced of it, was sufficient to convince me to return next year. I had floated the idea of attending amongst the Beer Socials WhatsApp group I am a member of, but no one else was free that day. The photos I posted on the group attracted some positive feedback, so I think there might be a few of us heading over to Laddingford next St George’s Day.