I set foot outside the confines of the house last
Sunday,
for the first time in nearly
five days. The
“man flu” I referred to in a
previous post, had developed into something more akin to proper flu, which
rather put paid to any plans I might have had on the home and garden front.
Mrs
PBT’s was also feeling under the weather and had a suspicion that we might have
picked up a dose of
Covid whilst on the cruise.
A couple of quick lateral flow tests confirmed
that
Covid was not responsible for our woes but, as I remarked to my wife, the
nasty head cold we were both suffering from, felt far worse than the bout of
Covid I went down with back in
February.
Neither of us left the house, and with me not due back at
work until Monday, there was no real need to. Eileen ordered an online grocery
shop, and we both got on with doing the bare minimum necessary to keep
ourselves, and the house, ticking over. I knocked out several blog posts, and
after finishing the unpacking, retrieved the step ladder from the shed, and
placed the cases back into the loft.
I was aware of an
old codger’s bus trip, organised by the
local
CAMRA branch for Sunday, and as the itinerary included visiting a pub, I that
really was on the outer fringes of my radar, I was
determined to make sure I
was fit enough to attend. Come the day I felt fit enough to attend, even though
I certainly wasn’t firing on all four cylinders, so leaving myself plenty of
time, I headed down to the bus stop, to await the
401 service to
Westerham.
For the bus geeks of this world,
Hams Travel, who are based
at
Flimwell, on the
Kent-Sussex border, operate the route between
Tonbridge and
Westerham, on
Sundays, affording the rare opportunity of visiting the villages
to the west of
Sevenoaks, that aren’t reachable by public transport during the
rest of the week. This was ideal, as it would allow us to visit two pubs that
we don’t often get out to, with the added bonus of sufficient time for a meal
at the second one.
At the stop, outside
Tonbridge Lidl, I met up with three
friends, with a fourth due to join us at the
Tonbridge Castle stop. The bus was
around 10 minutes late, which was annoying as it would limit our time at the
first pub. This was the
Stanhope Arms, at
Brasted, a village local with an
attractive brickwork facia, tucked away at the top of a lane, close to the
village church. Amazingly despite having lived over
40 years in this part of
West Kent, I had never been to the
Stanhope and was largely unaware of its existence.
For those who don't know,
Brasted, it is an attractive, linear
village that straddles the busy
A25 road. The latter runs from
Wrotham Heath
near
Maidstone to the outskirts of
Guildford, and prior to the opening of the
M25, this undulating single carriage road was the main east-west artery to the south of
London, linking the
West of Surrey to the
West of Kent. Although there
is still a fair amount of through traffic, it's hard to imagine the road being
capable of carrying the huge number of cars and lorries that now use this
stretch of the
London orbital motorway. Mrs PBT’s and remarked on this fact, as
we drove along this stretch of the
M25 last week, on our journey home from
Southampton.
Apart from the
Stanhope there is now only one other pub
remaining in
Brasted. This follows the closure of the
King’s Head and, more
recently, the
Bull. Both were owned by
Shepherd Neame – a company with a poor
track record when it comes to hanging onto pubs. The closure of these two
hostelries, leaves the imposing
White Hart, which is on the left if you are
travelling from
Sevenoaks, as the only other pub in
Brasted. The
White Hart
today, is a rather upmarket
gastropub, but during the
Battle of Britain, due to
its proximity to
Biggin Hill airfield, it was frequented by many of the young airmen
who took on the
Luftwaffe, in that epic struggle
The bus dropped us in the centre of
Brasted, close to the
turning into
Church Lane, and from there it was a
10-minute walk to the
Stanhope Arms. Waiting for us outside, was local
CAMRA member
Tony, who was
just popping in for a quick pint, having been landed with dog sitting duties, whilst
his wife was away. I was the only individual out of the six of us who hadn't
been to the
Stanhope, but I was very impressed with what I found. The others
too also thought that recent alterations to the pub have been a big
improvement.
We stopped outside for the obligatory photos, but as you can
see, the row of parked cars does tend to spoil the appearance of this
attractive village pub, which is situated in the heart of
Brasted, next to the
local church,
St. Martins. The pub is named after the lord of the manor,
General Stanhope, who went on to become
Earl Stanhope, and it retains the
rustic charm of an old country pub, with several modern additions.
There are actually quite a few of the latter, as a few years
ago, the
Stanhope was extended and extensively modernised, but without losing
its essential character. It also became a free house, following a succession of
different owners –
Greene King, Ind Coope and
Westerham Brewery. Beers from the
successor of the original
Westerham Brewery, are often available, but last
Sunday the choice was from
Black Sheep, Old Dairy, Wainwright’s, and
Bexley Brewery.
We secured ourselves a table at the rear of the main bar,
overlooking the garden, but unfortunately it was a tall
“posing” table, of the
type where you have to shuffle on and off the equally tall stools. The pub was
busy with diners – it was
Sunday lunchtime, after all, and the menu looked enticing, although
I imagine booking would have been essential. However, due to the bus timings,
there would have been insufficient time for a meal at the
Stanhope, so we
grabbed a meal instead at the second pub of the day – more of that later.
Being a
CAMRA organised visit, the opportunity was taken to
update the
Stanhope’s What Pub entry, and to have a brief chat with the
landlord. The latter was keen to stress the family-run nature of the business
and the fact that are a pub that serves food, rather than a restaurant that
serves drinks. There is a large garden attached to the pub, plus a separate
barn available for parties and weddings. Live entertainment is another option. A
roaring log fire in the winter is a sought-after area, where customers can enjoy
the home cooked cuisine and cask ales.
Regrettably we only had time for two pints – or at least I
did, some people being much faster drinkers than me. Some are faster walkers,
as well, but we left the pub in plenty of time, and were at the bus stop ready
and waiting for the bus to arrive. Our next destination the
award-winning Windmill, in the village of
Sevenoaks Weald, which lies to the south of
Sevenoaks town. I describe the
Windmill as
“award-winning” because that's what it was under its previous owners,
Matt and
Emma. The couple have subsequently move on, and now run the
Nelson Arms, in
Tonbridge, and whilst one or two members of our party had visited the
Windmill
since the change of owners, the majority of us had not, and were keen to see
what changes, if any, had taken place.
The bus stop is just over 5 minute's walk from the pub, which
was looking very festive, when we arrived. I’d been the only member of the
group to phone ahead, and book a meal –
Sunday roast, as it happened, but the
rest of the party were OK, due to the
“no-show” by a booking for nine people.
The staff at the
Windmill were therefore pleased to see four of these meals
would now not be going to waste, but imagine their frustration, and annoyance,
at the group who’d made the original booking.
A discussion amongst us revealed that this no show, couldn’t
care less, attitude is much more common within the hospitality sector than
people think. The five of us were fine though, and glad of the opportunity to
sit down, and enjoy a tasty roast dinner, something that was much appreciated
on such a cold day. The
Windmill had an interesting selection of beers on,
including
Proper Job and
Larkin’s Porter, but the comment was made amongst
ourselves that perhaps one or two less ales, would have been better. This was particularly
evident with the
Larkin’s Porter, which was just on the turn. It wasn’t bad
enough to take back, and I thought the slight
“twang” gave the beer a more
authentic taste, seeing that porters were originally aged until they developed
that slightly sour
“edge.”
I was outvoted on that one, as a couple of friends reminded
me that modern-day brewers, including
Larkin’s, do not adopt this approach. I
finished my
“aged” porter, before switching to
Proper Job, a beer that was in
fine form, and one that we don’t often see on handpump, in this part of Kent. I
don’t recall which beers were available on the other bank of handpumps, but as
stated above, there was a consensus that it was slightly too many.
As for the pub itself, well not that much has changed,
although the advertisements for various Belgian beers are no longer present. There
was a lively presence of regulars, and village folk in the main bar, along with
several dogs. The Windmill continues to function as one of the main focal
points of Sevenoaks Weald and is well worth calling in at if you are ever in
the area. We stayed in the pub until 5pm, when we said our farewells and made
our way along to the bus stop.
There were quite a few strong Winter and Christmas Bock beers from
Germany, but as I was in the Low Countries, I stuck to mainly Dutch varieties,
with the occasional Belgian offering for good measure. I was also mindful that
I would have to carry my purchases back to the cruise ship, and whilst I came
equipped with a sturdy and reasonably sized rucksack, I didn’t want to overdo
it. 
