Pilot guides the way to perfect fish & chips

Looking back over 15 years’ worth of blog posts, it’s hard sometimes not to spot a recurring theme, a location that gets numerous mentions or a topic that keeps cropping up. It’s inevitable, I suppose because no matter how much we search for something different, and new, there are times when we hit the “repeat” button by returning to a familiar theme or end up revisiting and experiencing somewhere we’ve been before. This goes against the grain of perceived wisdom that says you should never go back, and whilst I’m all for checking out new places that I’ve never been to before, it’s often equally good to return to somewhere you are not just familiar with but are extremely fond of.

I’ve probably over-egged that last statement, but the gist of what I want to put across remains the same, and what I’m leading up to is the trip I made with the family, last Friday, down to Dungeness, for a lunch of fish & chips, at the renowned Pilot Inn. Looking back, I’ve written about the Pilot on at least four previous occasions, and whilst one or two of these articles were solely about the pub (and the excellence of its battered cod and chips), the rest were pieces about this famous watering hole, but combined with other topics – local towns, landmarks etc.

So, on Friday, with Matthew having the day off from work, and Mrs PBT’s taking a well-earned rest from the world of VAT returns, we jumped in the car and headed off to Romney Marsh. This sparsely populated wetland area, which stretches between the counties of Kent and East Sussex, has long held a fascination for the Bailey family, and it’s no exaggeration to say it’s one of our favourite places. Covering an area of around 100 square miles, with much of it lying below sea level, this south-eastern corner of Kent contains one of England’s most distinctive landscapes and consists of wide, flat fields, endless skies, meandering ditches dotted with isolated farms and villages.

Eileen and I both have fond memories from our respective childhoods, of visits to Romney Marsh, and this tradition continued when we became a married couple and then a family. We spent our honeymoon at Rye and later, following the birth of son Matthew, had a number of family holidays in the area. This included renting a cottage at Winchelsea Beach, in the shadow of the dunes and the seawall, and literally a stone's throw from the sea. A short drive from Winchelsea is the southern tip of Romney Marsh, where the great sweeping expanse of shingle known as Dungeness, juts out into the English Channel. It is the largest such shingle structure in Europe and was the destination for Friday’s trip to the coast. We normally follow a well-driven route that takes us in a roughly south-easterly direction, from Tonbridge down to New Romney, via Goudhurst, Tenterden and Appledore.

The adage of never travel on a Friday proved apt advice, as road closures between Goudhurst and Tenterden, meant a lengthy diversion. In addition, umpteen sets of road works – most of them seemingly connected with new housing developments, meant it was after 2pm, before we arrived at the Pilot. Leaving late hadn’t helped either, but this was unavoidable, as both Matthew and I had errands to sort out in Tonbridge that morning.

Friday was dry, and a welcome relief following what has seemed like weeks of relentless rain. It was also bright and sunny, although with a strong, cold northerly wind blowing, it wasn’t a day for standing on the shingle bank and admiring the views of the English Channel. Our late arrival did mean that the pub was relatively quiet, so with no difficulty finding a parking space, and also a table, it wasn’t long before we were tucking into our lunchtime feast of fish and chips.

To be pedantic, it was the family that had the fish and chips – huss for Eileen and haddock for Matthew, I went for the "Dungeness Fisherman’s Pie", consisting of cod, salmon, smoked haddock, and prawns, topped with mashed potato and melted cheese. I’ve enjoyed this dish before, and it didn’t disappoint this time around.  As far as the beer is concerned, the Pilot features a couple of “house beers” produced for the pub by Romney Marsh Brewery.  As on previous visits, I opted for the B17 Sleepytime Girl, an American-style IPA that was the perfect accompaniment to the seafood.

It's worth noting that I’ve never failed to be impressed at the slick operation in place at this family-run pub. Food orders are taken at a separate counter, whilst drinks are ordered at the bar. This means drinkers don’t have to wait whilst diners faff over what to order from the menu. It also means there never seems long to wait before the food is brought to the table, piping hot and ready to enjoy. As well as appealing to fish lovers, meat eaters are catered for too, as are those who prefer plant-based concoctions. Daily specials are also available, and food is served from noon right through to 9pm (8pm on Sundays). Given the above, the Pilot is justly popular with a wide range of discerning customers.

The cold wind meant we weren’t tempted to go for a walk along the beach afterwards, but the breezy conditions did make for good visibility had we wished to view the shipping moving up and down the Channel. We did, however, take a drive along to Dungeness point, where the two lighthouses stand guard over the two nuclear power stations. Dungeness “A” was decommissioned some years ago, and I believe the “B” power-generating unit is also now undergoing the same process. Nearby, is the terminus of the Romney, Hythe & Dymchurch light railway, although being term-time, as well as winter, trains didn’t appear to be running.

On the way home, we called into Jempson's Superstore at Peasmarsh, just outside Rye. Jempson’s are a local company, and their shop is well-stocked with from the surrounding area. The adjacent filling station is also renowned for cheap fuel, and a lengthy queue had developed. I’d already purchased my diesel, before leaving Tonbridge, and with the gauge hovering just on the reserve mark, there wouldn’t have been sufficient for the drive down to Romney Marsh, especially with the diversions and roadworks encountered, on the way.

Eileen bought a couple of packs of Jempson’s famous sausage rolls, which we had for tea, the following day, and also purchased a bag of freshly baked jam doughnuts. I took a look at the beer aisle, noting that Cellar Head Brewing seem to have taken over from Old Dairy, as the store’s supplier of local beers. This is not surprising, given the sad demise of Old Dairy, earlier this year. The store itself was buzzing, and as I’ve mentioned before it's good to see an independent, family-owned supermarket more than holding its own against the bigger boys.

Like I said at the beginning, this piece is a little predictable and familiar, but occasionally it doesn’t hurt to stick with what you know and love.

Fuggles celebrates its10th birthday

Last week saw Fuggles Beer Café in Tunbridge Wells celebrating its 10^th birthday, and to mark the occasion a party was held on the 15^th  November. I didn't manage to get along to the birthday bash, and neither was I able to make the social event held there by the local CAMRA branch, two nights later, as that clashed with Matthew’s birthday, but it was good to see both Fuggles and its owner/founder making a splash in the local paper. Fuggles it's the brainchild of beer lover Alex Greig who, after being inspired by the beer cafés he discovered on trips to Belgium, decided to open an establishment of his own, that would showcase the best of British and European beers.

In an interview in the local paper, Alex revealed how after managing a number of pubs and bars since his early 20s, he was determined to open a place of his own. I remember meeting Alex, although I didn't know him by name then, when he managed a now closed bar at the back of the Opera House (Wetherspoons). My memory tells me the place was called the Tunbridge Wells Kitchen and Bar, although despite an extensive online search, I can find no record of the name, or indeed the bar itself.

Moving on, Alex managed to scrape sufficient funds together, and also located suitable premises for his long promised new venture, and in 2013, Fuggles opened its doors to a curious, but enthusiastic public. Housed in a former pound shop outlet on Grosvenor Road, Fuggles has since gone from strength to strength. In 2017, Alex opened another branch of Fuggles in nearby Tonbridge, and most recently a Fuggles Bottle Shop in Camden Road, Tunbridge Wells. All outlets follow a formula that celebrates all that is best in beer, wine gin and whiskey from both the UK as well as Europe, and it’s one that has really gone to the hearts of residents of the two towns that share the same name.

Fuggles offers something a little different to what’s available locally, in the form of quality beer from both Europe and the UK. Furthermore, there is nothing pretentious about this pub-cum-café, just good drinks, decent service and with nice people.  All this against the background of a half decent playlist, played at a volume that encourages rather detracts conversation. Alex is pleased at the way the cafés and the shop have developed over the years and is grateful for the support from both customers, and his own team, that helped the business survive the pandemic. 

One way which helped Fuggles through those dark and lonely days of lock-down, was FUGSCLUB – a beer subscription service that delivered each month, a box of 12 different beers to your house, complete with tasting notes and occasional extra goodies.There were five different boxes to choose from, including a Pale/IPA box, containing hop forward beers from the UK & beyond, European styles - a showcase of classic European styles. from Lagers to Wheat beers, Bocks, Blondes, Dubbels, and Saison’s, Dealer’s Choice - a showcase of some of Fuggles' favourite beers, Dark Beers - for all dark beer lovers, encompassing Stouts and Porters, Dunkels, Dubbels and more, and finally, for all cask beer lovers, Bitters/Traditional Beer Styles - a selection of the best bitters, golden, mild, stouts and porters, in bottle or can format. FUGSCLUB was a clever and innovative way of helping Fuggles business survive lock-down, and I was glad to play my own small part, with a monthly delivery of Dark Beers.  

Fortunately, those dark and depressing days are behind us, and Fuggles has subsequently gone from strength to strength. In the piece marking the 10^th anniversary, Alex told the reporter he had developed some fantastic friendships and got to know some wonderful people over the last 10 years, and the business had ended up being much more than just a bar or café for him. During the past decade Fuggles has won multiple awards including West Kent CAMRA Pub of the Year and has featured in the CAMRA Good Beer Guide for nine years running. It has also featured in the Observer’s “Best Places to Drink” guide.

My nearest Fuggles outlet is the Tonbridge beer café situated at the far end of Tonbridge High Street. It's a 30-minute walk from home, but it's well worth the effort, especially as there's a really good atmosphere there and it's somewhere one can go on one's own, flick though a local magazine, check something on your phone or just sit there and enjoy the air much like and in the general ambience. The afore mentioned playlist is often to my taste, especially when it contains some classic rock material from my own era in music and, as an added bonus, I often I bump into someone I know, or someone I haven't seen for a long time. 

It's that sort of place, attracting like-minded souls, people who enjoy good beer, good company in a relaxed overall ambience. Food is limited, so that it doesn't take over from the beer, but the former limited selection of cheeses, charcuterie cold meats and grilled cheese sandwiches, have been augmented by more substantial offerings such as hot dogs, with Bratwursts.

There are normally 4-5 cask ales on tap, including one from Tonbridge Brewery, and these are complemented by a much larger range of craft keg beers including a number of examples from Belgium and Germany. Tap take-overs, and meet the brewer evenings, also feature at Fuggles, as do the occasional longer promotions. One example of this, was shortly before I disappeared on holiday, both Fuggles outlets showcased all six Oktoberfest biers that featured at the main event in Munich. In short, Fuggles offers something for everyone, and as a local resident I feel glad to have such a place in our midst.

Harvey's Old Ale at last

Seasoned readers of this blog will be well aware of my appreciation of dark ales, especially seasonal ones which make an appearance once a year, usually mid-autumn. These rich dark ales herald the approach of winter, as the days begin to shorten, and the nights start drawing in. They represent the continuation of a centuries old tradition of brewing strong, dark, nutritious, and fortifying ales, designed to see the populace at large through the long, dark, and cold winters.

The beers I am talking about are known as Old or Stock Ales, although the latter name is rarely used today. I don’t want to enter into too much detail, as this post is much more about tracking down and enjoying one of the first old ales of the 2023-24 season.

I am talking about here is XXXX Old Ale produced annually by Sussex brewers, Harvey’s of Lewes. Brewed to a strength of 4.3% abv. It is a rich, dark ale, containing a high percentage of crystal malt and black sugars. The beer is said to be reminiscent of the strong, mild ales, brewed at the beginning of the last century, and its arrival each year, is eagerly awaited by its devotees.

XXXX Old Ale is released to an eager public at the beginning of October, although a handful of pubs are known to start serving it, up to a week before that date. Harvey’s hold an annual “Dancing in the Old” celebration, which begins with a Harvest Thanksgiving, at the Church of St Thomas a Becket, which is close to the brewery, before adjourning to the brewery yard. There, at the stoke of midday, a number of local Morris Dancing sides, literally “Dance in the Old.” Members of the public are then invite to sample the first brew of the new season’s “Old Ale.”

The celebrations end promptly at 1.00 pm, when Harvey’s will announce that this year’s Old Ale is in prime condition and drinking exceptionally well. Despite all the years that I’ve known Harvey’s, I’ve never managed to attend this ceremony, and 2023's was no exception. I did, at least, have a valid excuse this year, as at the beginning of October, Mrs PBT’s and I were in Southampton, and about to board the Queen Victoria, at the start of our Mediterranean cruise. 

What normally follows is I attempt to track down some Old Ale, a task that is not as easy as you might think. Although Harvey’s make the beer available to the free trade, very few publicans seem to stock the beer, so if you really want to sample it, you have to head for a Harvey’s tied house. And that is where the problem lies, because Harvey’s don’t have any pubs in the three main towns of West Kent (Sevenoaks, Tonbridge & Tunbridge Wells). The nearest Harvey’s pubs to Bailey Towers, are the Bricklayers Arms at Chipstead, and the currently closed, Two Brewers at Hadlow. A couple of weeks ago, I noticed on the Real Ale Finder App, that Old Ale was available at the Nelson Arms, in Tonbridge, but it must have sold out pretty quick, as just two days later it was showing as no longer available. 

Plan B was to track it down during over the course of the weekend just gone, and I’m pleased to report that my quest succeeded.  My original intention had been to take the bus to Chipstead, a small village to the north-west of Sevenoaks, and grab a pint or two at the Bricklayers. That plan was scuppered by road works, in Sevenoaks High Street, as Mrs PBT’s and I discovered following a shopping trip to the town, the previous day. So, on Sunday morning I opted for a solution that had been staring me in the face, without me realising it.

A 15-minute train journey, from Tonbridge, saw me alighting at Frant station, just three stops down the line. Frant station lies in the village of Bells Yew Green, a small settlement a couple of miles from Frant itself. 

Slap bang in the middle of BYG is the Brecknock Arms, a small and attractive, late Victorian pub belonging to Harvey’s Brewery. It’s a pub that I’ve known for a long time, and through several changes of landlord, but it’s always been a reliable source of decent pint of Harvey’s, as well as a regular stockist of their seasonal beers.

I walked into the pub, and there on the bar, alongside hand pulls for Harvey’s Best Biter and Mild, was the unmistakable bright red pump clip for Harvey’s Old. So, a month and a half after this seasonal ale made its 2023 appearance, there I was ready to take my first and much anticipated mouthful of this sumptuous old ale, and I’m pleased to report that it didn’t disappoint. Smooth, dark, full-bodied, and very moreish, I enjoyed that pint so much, that I just had to have another (as you do!).

The Brecknock itself was doing a healthy lunchtime trade, serving up Sunday roast dinners to the hungry residents of Bells Yew Green and beyond. I was almost certainly the only customer not eating, but from what I could gather, the pub is popular with drinkers, at other times. It’s a couple of years since my last visit, but the Brecknock seems to have settled down nicely, under the care of its current owners, and long may it continue. Given these credentials, there's every chance I will be returning for another fix of Harvey’s excellent Old Ale.

Next stop Kefalonia, or should that be Cephalonia?

 

Well, it's back to cruising, for a short while at least, and perhaps not quite for the last time this year. We pick up on where Mrs PBT's and I left you, which was us leaving our mooring, in the spectacular setting of the Santorini caldera, and heading off into the open waters of the Ionian Sea. A leisurely day at sea than followed, before reaching the last of the Greek island destinations on the cruise, but one which happened to be by far and away the best.

I'm talking here about Kefalonia – also known as Cephalonia which, for us, seemed perfect in every way. The sun was just rising as we docked at the moorings in the island's capital of Argostoli, and an array of red lights, lit up the jetty, highlighting where we would soon be walking, once the Queen Victoria finally tied up. We'd ordered breakfast in our room that morning, in preparation for an early start on our, pre-booked “Leisurely Kefalonia” excursion.

After “swiping out” as we left the ship, we headed along the quayside towards the waiting coaches, lined up ready for those embarking on a shore excursion. Disappointingly, there was an unseemly scrum, as fired up cruise passengers jostled for places, even though there was plenty of room for everyone. The tours were, after all, pre booked. Needless to say, we got a seat, and by being patient were directed onto an “over spill” where there was ample space.

This pushing, shoving and general lack of manners by the mainly elderly passengers on the ship, seemed a real feature of this particular cruise, and it was so bad at times that I gave up on the buffet for breakfast, preferring instead either the Britannia Restaurant, at the stern of the ship with its sedate and unhurried waiter service or alternatively keeping my good lady wife company, enjoying a leisurely breakfast in the comfort of our cabin.

 Eileen described this behaviour as FOMO - "Fear Of Missing Out", but the fact was no one did miss out, all that was needed was a little patience and some good manners. We couldn't put our finger on it, but we haven't witnessed this type of behaviour on any of the previous cruises we'd been on, and that included the voyage from Hamburg up to the Norwegian fjords with a boatload of boisterous, but good-natured Germans.

 Safely on board the comfortable coach, our leisurely excursion of Kefalonia took us through attractive streets of Argostoli, before climbing up into the hills. On the way our guide explained about the earthquake of August 1953 that devastated large parts of Kefalonia. Consequently, most the island’s buildings either date from after that time or have been extensively restored after the earthquake. This applied to the church, at our first stop, which forms part of a former monastery.

Dedicated to St Andrew, the church contained a rather bizarre relic in a form of a rather grizzly-looking, and shrunken, mummified foot, said to belong to the apostle himself. There were some impressive wall paintings, and the setting among the hills of Kefalonia added to attraction, but of more interest to me was the imposing castle of St George, high on the hill overlooking the surrounding countryside. Built by the Venetians who occupied the island for several centuries it still looked reasonably well preserved and had obviously survived the earthquake.

I'm not sure quite how accessible it was by coach as I would like to have seen it, but instead we continued along some narrow and, at times, quite hair-raising mountain roads complete with hairpin bends, as we climbed right up into the interior of the island. Mrs PBT’s take was not to look out the window at those moments, particularly when the back of the coach appeared to hang over the abyss, but I couldn’t resist a quick peep, having every confidence in our unflappable driver.

On the way our guide told us how, due to its strategic position on trade routes between Europe and the Middle East, the Venetians, the Turks, and forces from several other countries had occupied Kefalonia. Britain also had a presence in the Ionian Sea for a short while, towards the end of the Napoleonic Wars, but the saddest story was the one concerning the Italian troops who'd occupied the island during World War II. Following the collapse in 1943 of Italy’s fascist government, and the subsequent armistice which heralded the country’s exit from the war, Nazi troops arrived on the island, to take their place.

 A tragic chain of events, then led to the massacre of several thousand Italian soldiers, held prisoner by their former comrades in arms, after being regarded as traitors. At the end of hostilities most of those responsible for this horrific war crime were never brought to account, with just a handful standing trial at Nuremberg. Set against the background of the initial occupation, was the fictional story of Captain Corelli’s Mandolin which, in 2001 was made into a film, staring Nicholas Cage and Penelope Cruz. Our guide was less than complimentary about the film, although to be fair it must have boosted visitor numbers to Kefalonia.

Eventually we arrived at our next destination, a large vineyard and wine-making complex right in the heart of the island. Several other coaches already were already there, and yet again it was an unsightly free for all, this time just for a few small glasses of wine. If people could just wait rather than pushing and shoving, there would have been plenty for all but, as witnessed earlier in the day, the behaviour exhibited by some of those n the excursion was shameful.

In the end I managed to get some water for Eileen plus a couple of glasses of wine for myself, but not exactly being a great wine connoisseur, I didn't feel as though I’d missed much. Instead, I just enjoyed the beauty of the surrounding countryside, with views of the grapevines, climbing up the slopes of the surrounding hills in every direction. 

After leaving the vineyard, the coach took us on a different route back down into Argostoli, following a series of steep winding roads, before crossing the end of the lagoon on a man-made causeway. We then drove along the water front with its various shops, bars, and restaurants before arriving back at the ship. By this time the sun was blazing down on the town, and the mercury had climbed into the low 30’s, so I left Mrs PBT's to make her way back onboard the boat and set off to explore Argostoli, on my own.

As I walked along the road, past the row of shops and restaurants, keeping in the shade as much as possible, I bumped into a fellow passenger from the ship who we'd got to know. Andrew was full of enthusiasm about a bakery a bit further along the esplanade which was selling homemade pies. Being a huge pie fan, I had to go and try one, but by the time I found the place the only pies left were cheese and mushroom. It's unfortunate that I'd missed the meat ones, but a nice puff pastry pie, plus a decent cup of coffee for six euros, was a real bargain.

Afterwards it was time for a beer, and where better to enjoy one that in the cool shady interior, of the attractive Dash Coffee Bar overlooking the waterfront.  Seated at the bar, enjoying a cool and refreshing half litre of Mythos beer, whilst watching the world go by outside saw me in proper, wind-down holiday mode, and was the perfect way to round off my time ashore in Kefalonia. Before leaving the bar, I had a chat with another fellow passenger from the boat, an intrepid fellow in his 80s, holidaying without his wife, who was back home in Somerset, and thoroughly enjoying himself. (And Mrs PBT's complains if I abandon her for just a couple of days!).

I rejoined Eileen on the ship mid-afternoon, and then towards early evening we joined fellow passengers on the rear deck for some impressive views as we sailed away from Argostoli and Kefalonia. We both agreed the island had been by far the nicest and most pleasant destination we'd experienced on the cruise, even though at that point in time we still had Sardinia and Portugal to visit.