Hiding in the woods - the Villager at Vigo

Saturday lunchtime saw Mrs PBT’s and I visiting a tucked-away, but relatively modern pub, high on the North Downs above Wrotham. I shan’t go into the reasons behind our visit, apart from saying it was to meet up with a close family member, for a spot of lunch. As this particular person lives in Gravesend, and we, of course, reside in Tonbridge, somewhere roughly halfway was suggested as a suitable location to meet up.

The chosen spot was a pub called the Villager, and whilst it was nearer to Gravesend, it was a place that I’d wanted to visit for some time. In fact, ever since I read about the Villager at Vigo village, on ticking legend Pubmeister’s website, I’d been looking for an excuse to call in at this pub which is tucked away in the middle of chestnut woodland, at the top of the North Downs, close to Trosley Country Park.

Vigo village takes its name from a 15th-century public house, which was renamed in the 18th century after the Battle of Vigo Bay. The Vigo Inn is reputed to date from 1471, when it was known as the Upper Drover. It was renamed after the Battle of Vigo Bay, a naval battle fought in 1702 during the War of the Spanish Succession. According to legend, a former sailor, who had saved the life of Sir George Rooke, the Admiral of the Fleet, during the battle, was granted the pub as a reward for his services.

The Vigo's famous daddlums table c. 1987

 

 

Sadly, the Vigo Inn is now a private house, having closed in 2014, but prior to that it was a simple and unspoilt rural alehouse which, despite its isolated position, was one of my favourite country pubs. As well as a regular entry in CAMRA’s Good Beer Guide, the Vigo was home to an ancient daddlums (miniature skittles) table long after these had disappeared from other local pubs. It was also a welcoming and idiosyncratic hostelry, but despite widespread local opposition, planning permission was granted to convert the pub into residential accommodation, thereby consigning 500 years of public service, to the history books.

The former Vigo Inn, 2020

But what about the modern day village, and the pub built to serve it? The present-day Vigo village was built in the mid-20th century, on a site that had previously been an army camp. The military occupied the site between 1942 and 1946, but following the departure of the army, the area was occupied by people who, for the most part, had lost everything during the Blitz. The camp provided ready-made accommodation, in the form of Nissen Huts, plus well-made roads, and soon a small community was formed.

The presence of around 1,000 people in the area prompted the local councils to improve conditions for the inhabitants. Roads were upgraded, the huts were partitioned to provide three rooms, and toilets and bathrooms installed. In return, the local authority charged rent and the settlement became known as Vigo Village. As well as the dwelling places, a community centre, library, school, and shops were opened, and this was later followed by a pub in 1985.

Known as the Villager and constructed and run by members of the same family, the pub provided a place where local people could get together to enjoy some good food and drink Thirty years later, the pub changed hands, with two of the original owning brothers buying out the share of the others. There was also an ingress of new blood, which led to a major refurbishment of the Villager, which re-opened in its present form, in November 2019.

Eileen and I arrived shortly after one o’clock. The lady we were meeting was already in the car park, so after exchanging greetings, we headed inside. Whilst open plan in appearance, the interior is divided into a number of smaller areas, which helps create a cosy and homely atmosphere.  A wood-burning stove complements this feel. As far as the beers were concerned, the cask offerings were Musket Muzzleloader, St Austell Proper Job and Iron Pier Bitter, from Gravesend.

Whilst standing at the bar, ready to place my order, I was tapped on the shoulder, by someone who then addressed me as, "Mr Bailey." It was Peter B, a member of Maidstone & Mid-Kent CAMRA who was with a party of around six other, most of whom I know. They were on a CAMRA bus trip, and like us, had called in for a bite to eat. I of course, received the comment from Mrs PBT’s, about trust me to bump into a group I know, especially in a pub!

Returning to our pre-booked table, I ordered the homemade turkey and ham pie, which whilst not a “proper pie” – it came served in a dish, with just a pastry lid on top, was still very good. There was plenty of gravy within the dish to soak up the mash potato accompaniment, authenticated as “real mash potato” by Mrs PBT’s. Afterwards, the ladies went for a sweet, in the form of apple and blackberry crumble, but being mindful of my figure, I passed on the dessert.

Following the conclusion of our business, we parted company, but not before agreeing to meet up again once the warmer weather arrives. I realise this all sounds rather mysterious, but it’s a family matter that whilst not directly affecting Eileen and I, is still something we’d prefer keeping under wraps, for the time being.

All power to the Engine Room

On Friday, I joined a bus trip to East Grinstead, with half a dozen members of West Kent CAMRA.  The idea was to visit the Engine Room Bar & Tap, a relatively new establishment, located in the heart of this Sussex town, The bar is located in the basement of an old mill building, at the top of a hill, behind London Road, which is one of East Grinstead’s main shopping streets, and is accessed by a footpath leading up between some of the shops.

The Engine Room, Brewery Tap and Bar specialises in cask ale and ciders, together with craft beers, and artisan spirits. It also stocks an assortment of bottled and canned beers for both in-house consumption and takeout. The pub is reached via an internal set of steps and is a downstairs labyrinth of small seating areas which are good for small groups to hold conversations, or for those who wish to escape the world outside, for a short while. It offers, between five and seven ever-changing gravity-served cask ales, four craft beers, plus around six or seven ciders. There is also live music, once a month, on Thursday evenings.  

  Our group travelled over by bus, to help the pub celebrate its 4th anniversary,  the occasion being marked by a festival featuring dark and strong beers. The event was billed as the Dark'n'Strong Beer Festival, and it represented my first actual visit to the Engine Room. I say "actual", as I had viewed the bar's exterior on a previous trip to the town with my son Matthew, who now works in the town. Our bus was 20 minutes late in departing from Tunbridge Wells, which meant we arrived in the town shortly before midday. It was a pleasant journey over along a route which took us to the south of the main A264 road, through the villages of Groombridge, Withyham, Hartfield, and then, eventually up into Forest Row, just to the south of East Grinstead. As this area lies at the edge of Ashdown Forest, it is characterised by some attractive countryside of rolling hills and woodland, plus plenty of picturesque settlements.

Knowing that the Engine Room has no kitchen, and that no food would be available, most of the party piled into a café just off the High Street.  I decided to give this a miss, as it was rather too soon after my own breakfast, so leaving my friends to enjoy their meal, I made my way down to the pub. I had seen a note on the Engine Room’s Facebook page, that an outside caterer would be providing some “street food” for the festival. It turned out I had got the day wrong, as I discovered when I arrived at the pub, and found my way down into the bar.

Most of the Engine Room is either below ground, or very close to it, and by the pub’s own admission is not particularly suited for people with mobility issues. I was one of the first customers of the day and found myself presented with a range of 12 different cask ales, all but one of which were dark beers. This suited me as I'm a big fan of old ales, porters, and to a lesser extent, stouts. Apart from a couple of beers from Thornbridge Brewery, the majority seem locally sourced. With such a range on offer I decided to go for half pints, and tried a porter from Vibrant Forest, plus a stout from Thornbridge.

I then decided that some food would be a good idea, which is when I learned that the “street food” would only be available on Saturday. Sensing my disappointment, the bar staff told me that it was fine to bring in food purchased from outside the pub, so headed out to the nearest Greggs., which was just across the road. As I arrived back at the Engine Room with a sausage roll, and a steak bake, I bumped into my friends, who had finally turned up following what sounded like a fairly substantial “brunch.” Another group from Tunbridge Wells had also arrived, having caught the bus that departed an hour later than the service we arrived on.

The next couple of hours were spent chatting with various members of the two groups, interspersed by visits to the bar. I won’t list off the beers I drank, as whilst they were all good, I ran into that typical beer festival situation where, after a while, they all start tasting very similar to one another. They were all priced at £4.60 a pint, although for seasoned festival goers, tokens were available at five pints worth for £20. They were valid across all three days of the event, but this wasn’t much use to “casual” visitors, like ourselves, although a couple of people did end up sharing tokens between themselves.

I departed shortly after 3pm, as my son Matthew, who works at the local branch of  well-known hardware store, had offered me a lift back to Tonbridge. He was due to finish early that day, although as it happened, he got stuck in a meeting which delayed him somewhat. This allowed me time to call in at Armstrong's, an excellent, independent off license that I discovered on a previous visit to East Grinstead. Amongst the bottles of Samuel Smiths beers that I picked up, was a bottle of the legendary Yorkshire Stingo. This beer is hard to come by, especially in the south-east, so despite the six pound price-tag, I treated myself to a bottle.

  After receiving a further text message from Matthew, I ended up
diving  into the Ounce & Ivy Bush - the local Wetherspoons, which is opposite the shop where he works, and took advantage of their refillable coffee offer. We travelled home along the A264 road towards Tunbridge Wells, after what had been an enjoyable day out. This was despite the inclement weather - a mix of bitterly cold winds and driving rain, but as it is still early March, perhaps this should be expected.

1001 Beers You Must Try Before You Die

A couple of weeks ago, whilst having a clear out of my bookshelves, I came across a rather weighty book, with the title, “1001 Beers You Must Try Before You Die.” Published In 2010 the book hasn't exactly aged well, as might be expected given the changes that have occurred in the brewing industry over the last decade and a half. So how did I come to own such a publication and, more importantly, how did it end up being forgotten about?

As far as I remember, the book was a Christmas present, from members of my department at work, back in the day when we used to buy things for one another during the festive season. My colleagues, knowing my interest in beer, expected me to be pleased with their choice of gift and, working on the premise that it’s the thought that counts, I was – to a point. At 960 pages, the sheer size of the book makes it unwieldy, to say the least, and whilst it works as a coffee table read, or a useful reference for those relatively new to the world of beer, it’s not the type of publication you can lug around with you.

It's the title and the concept behind the book, that I take issue with, perhaps even more so today than I would have done back in 2010. You see I've reached that stage in life where I feel entitled to be a grumpy old git, should I wish, and combined with a certain curmudgeonly approach, I’m following my late father’s lead of not suffering fools gladly. So, before going any further let's take a look at the concept behind 1001 Beers You Must Try Before You Die, and books with a similar title.

Any book where the reader is told that they must do something, is guaranteed to get my hackles up. I’m no longer at school, or in the armed forces, so apart from complying with the law, and being an upstanding and decent moral citizen, I don’t enjoy being told I MUST do something. This applies even with a book about beer – my favourite drink, and when there’s a deadline involved, especially one as final as popping my clogs, I'm inclined to stick two fingers up at the whole bucket list concept.

For an author or a publisher to say, there are certain things you perhaps ought to do, or it would be nice for you do before you shuffle off this mortal coil, surely is the height of arrogance, and yet this is the basic premise of 1001 Beers You Must Try Before You Die. Now whilst I'm not averse to advice or recommendations, I do take exception at feeling pressurised into taking a certain course of action, and if someone tells me I MUST do something, I am inclined to do the polar opposite.

Despite my interest in beer, drinking my way through 1001 different types and brands, in a glorified ticking exercise, really doesn’t float my boat. Furthermore, why choose such an arbitrary number, anyway? To answer that question, let’s look at Google, where a quick search throws up the following lists of things to do before you die. 1001 books you must read, 1001 albums you must hear, 1001 bucket list things to do, 1001 things a person should see, adventure bucket list ideas, nature & wildlife you must see, the list in fact is endless. I’d go so far as saying that a whole sub-genre has grown up around this concept.

If you were to set out along this path, all that these books will do, is make you feel inadequate or that you haven’t accomplished even a fraction of the things listed. Ask yourself though, have the authors of these publications actually achieved all the things they claim to have done? Could they be lying, in an attempt to impress – and sell more books, of course? So having come this far, and questioned the whole concept behind all these things you MUST do, before popping your clogs, let’s take a closer look at “1001 Beers You Must Try Before You Die” prior to me donating my copy to the charity shop.

The book is well laid out, with some well taken colour photographs of the beers concerned. The beers are almost exclusively in bottled form and are photographed alongside a glass of the beer itself. The glass invariably is a badged one as well just in case the reader has any doubts about what it is. Labels, beer mats or a depiction of the brewery concerned, are sometimes substituted  for a photo of the beer. Accompanying each photo is some interesting information about the brewery concerned, the beer itself and also some tasting notes. I've therefore every reason to believe that the people who put this book together actually drank all these beers (between themselves, rather than individually), and if so all power to their collective elbows.

1001 Beers, has the well-respected beer writer, Adrian Tierney-Jones as it's general editor, and his involvement certainly adds real kudos to the book. I've had the pleasure of meeting Adrian, and own a couple of his other books, so you could say I enjoy his written work and his style of writing. As general editor Adrian would have overseen the project, and whilst I'm sure he would have tried quite a few of these beers, I'm equally certain he didn't drink his way through the whole lot of them. The same would apply to the other contributors, who are described as, “An international panel of experts.”

As part of the quite lengthy introduction to the book, Adrian states, “My team of beer writers and I have chosen these beers because they are superb examples of brewing craftsmanship, are wonderful to taste, and will remind people time after time why beer is the best drink in the world.” He goes on to explain the project further, and why wouldn't he, because for a successful and well-known beer writer, this is a dream gig as they say. Along with the editorial, there’s also a preface from the actor Neil Morrissey, he of Men Behaving Badly Fame, and Boon fame. I’m not sure quite why he was chosen, apart from being in vogue, back in 2010. He also bought a North Yorkshire pub,  and launched the Morrissey Fox range of beers in conjunction with chef Richard Fox.  Make of that, what you will.

The beers listed in 1001 Beers, are separated into five sections which group the beers into categories based on colour: amber, blond, white, dark and speciality beers. There is a detailed explanation as to why this classification was adopted, and an indication of which beer styles fit into the five categories. Although most of the beers featured are still in production, there are a few which seem lost or have not been brewed for some time. Would all the beers make a list of the “best” now? – I very much doubt it, as plenty of new beers have been launched since then, and by the law of averages alone, many will be better than some of those included in the original publication.

I say original, because revised/updated editions of the book were published in 2013 and 2018. However, as far as I am aware, there hasn’t been an update since then. I would hazard a guess that the rise of “ticking” Apps, such as Untappd has rendered such guides superfluous – it’s size alone makes it very user-unfriendly. Some people swear by the book, stating they use it as a guide or reference book, but at 960 pages it’s just too large and unwieldy, and my own copy isn't exactly well-thumbed.

As stated earlier, it’s on its way to the charity shop, unless anyone reading this, would like it instead. There’s no charge, although I imagine postage and packing would be costly, given it size. Before parting with it, I tallied up the number of beers listed, that I’ve actually drank. It’s a pretty low score, coming out at just 180, out of 1001, so I’ve got a lot of catching up to do, before I depart this world. Being realistic, this isn’t going to happen, and besides there plenty of other things I wish to do before heading off to that great pub in the sky!