Macclesfield - revisited Pt. 1

Last Tuesday I enjoyed a really good, “Proper Day Out” when I visited the north-east Cheshire town of Macclesfield. It was only my second visit to Maccy in 40 years, although it’s a place I often travelled through, by train, as a student at Salford Uni, on visits back to Kent. This time around I was due to meet up with a select band of connoisseurs from the Beer & Pubs Forum, a group hosted by Tapatalk, where the plan was to visit a half-dozen or so of Macclesfield’s best pubs, close to the town’s station.

The high cost of train travel initially put me off from attending, but further online exploration and a second dalliance with “Split-Ticketing” brought the cost of a return ticket from Tonbridge, down to a manageable £53. My “Old Git’s” Railcard helped as well, but what didn’t assist was the continuing “industrial action” by the train drivers’ union, which led to a day of cancellations and travel disruption. No matter, I got there and back without too much hassle, and it was good to meet up with some familiar faces and people who were much more familiar with Macclesfield and its pubs, than I am.

The day didn’t get off to a flying start when I couldn’t find my woolly hat, but rather than spend too much time looking for it, I left the house hat-less and with the thought that Maccy would be cold, given its location close to the Peak District. Chaos on the London Underground was another issue, forcing me to take a rather roundabout, diversionary route to Euston, but I still arrived there in plenty of time, only to find my Avanti West Coast train was 12 minutes late in departing.

My Split-Ticket meant having to leave the fast and comfortable mainline train at Stafford, and switch to a Cross Country service to Macclesfield. That train was also running late, but more annoyingly, was absolutely rammed.  I managed to squeeze myself on, and then stood in a group of equally squashed passengers in the space at the end of one of the carriages, next to the toilet. Nice! Fortunately, it was only 30 minutes’ worth of discomfort, which was nothing compared to the lady I stood next to had endured. She had boarded the train somewhere in the West Country and was heading up to Whitehaven in Cumbria.

I wished her well, as left the train at Maccy, glad to have escaped the mele of the overcrowded train, and headed off into the town, keen to meet up with the rest of the group and get stuck into my first beer. I was slightly disoriented when I left the station, and nearly headed off in the wrong direction, but Google Maps soon put me right, and it wasn’t far to the pre-arranged second pub of the day (I had already advised via  Tapatalk, that I couldn’t make the starting point).

This was the Castle, tucked away on a bend, down a narrow, cobbled, side street, just a short distance from the town’s main shopping area. It is an untouched, and timeless example of an old-fashioned town boozer that quite rightly features on CAMRA Inventory of pubs having a nationally important historic interior. It is thought that the Castle started life as a row of late 18^th Century cottages which were subsequently remodelled into today’s multi-roomed pub. Given the choice of different rooms one could quite easily lost, but once through the front door, I had little difficulty in tracking down the “advanced party.”

In order to buy a beer, it was necessary to visit the centrally located hatch bar, which allows service to several different rooms, although not to the one where the group was sitting. Pavo Pale Ale from Manchester based, Squawk Brewing Co was my pint of choice, and this pale and well-hopped didn’t disappoint, in fact it hardly touched the sides and was just what was needed after standing in a cramped and rather warm train corridor. I spent the time catching up with the day’s participants, who were, Pub Curmudgeon, Stafford Paul, Sheffield Hatter, and Retired Martin.

The latter pair sloped off for lunch at a different venue, but with an alternative pit stop in mind for myself and the two Mudgies, there was time for a look around the Castle, before moving on. To the right, as one enters, is a tiny vault, with a narrow lounge on the left. This was where the five of us sat, after my arrival. Past the bar is another lounge on the right, plus at the far end there is a larger, raised area. Attractive, open fire places feature in three of the rooms, and these, combined with the leaded windows, moulded plaster ceilings, copper-topped tables, and old-fashioned bell pushes, give a lovely, cosy, and homely feel to this classic, heritage pub. As I am attempting to visit as many pubs as possible on CAMRA’s list of Historic Pub Interiors, the Castle with its three-star rating, was a worthy addition to my quest.

The next pub was a complete contrast, but in order to reach it we had to first climb the hill up to a street, which appeared to be one of Macclesfield’s main shopping thoroughfares, before descending at the far end, past the bus station.  Alfreds, a modern, town centre café-bar, appears to have had several incarnations, but following a refurbishment last year has traded under its current name (minus the possessive “S”). It now belongs to Hydes, a long-established family-owned, Manchester brewery whose beers I remember with affection.

Times change, and whilst Hydes remain family-owned, and still trading, they now operate from a new, state of the art brewery, in Salford’s Media City. The beer range too has been revamped, although it still includes a couple of favourites that I remember from my time in the Manchester area. Hopster, a 3.8% zesty, blonde ale, is a new addition to the range and proved an excellent accompaniment to my lunch of cod, chips, and mushy peas. The two Mudgies and I parked ourselves at a convenient table, looking out across the bright, spacious, and airy interior of this popular new addition to Macclesfield’s town centre, and settled down to enjoy our respective menu choices.

We’d arranged to meet Martin and Will at 2.30 pm at the Queen’s, an imposing, red-brick, Holt’s pub, opposite the station, but in reality, it was nearer 3pm by the time we arrived. As the advanced party were already well stuck into their pints, most of us opted for half pints of the sole cask offering – Holt’s Bitter. I’d renewed my acquaintance with this legendary Manchester brewery’s beers on a couple recent trips to the local area (Manchester & Stockport), so felt I wasn’t missing too much by sticking with a half. I was also feeling rather full, following my ample, lunchtime meal.

It wasn’t far to pub No. 3, but we’re going to skip that one, until next time. This isn’t because the pub wasn’t any good, as on the contrary it was excellent. Instead, we’re passing on it for now because it was almost two good, and so much so, that a few lines at the end of this article wouldn’t do it justice at all. 

 

Pub No. 4 was halfway up a hill, on the other side of the rail tracks, but still only a short hop from the centre of Maccy. The Silk Trader, named in honour of the silk spinning industry that the town was once famous for, is a Robinson’s house that has undergone the full company refurb, and if you don’t know what that entails, then ask Pub Curmudgeon.  

 

The pub was selected as a potential source of Robinson’s Old Tom, the legendary dark ale, named after Tom, the brewery cat, and almost as old as the company itself. Brewed to an abv of 8.5%, this potent, barley wine is available in bottled form all year round, and makes an appearance in cask form, each winter, in selected Robinson houses. The Silk Trader was thought to be a good bet for a glass of cask Old Tom, but sadly, it was not to be. Instead, we had to make do with a choice of either Unicorn or Trooper.

The former was formerly known as Robinson’s Best Bitter, whereas Trooper is a beer developed in collaboration with heavy metal rock group, Iron Maiden. I wasn’t sure whether I’d drank this beer before, although I was obviously familiar with Unicorn, when it was known as Best Bitter.  My Untappd listing described Trooper as a refreshing and hop-dominated, golden beer, and it’s a brew that has obviously been a success, for both Robinson’s, and Iron Maiden vocalist, Bruce Dickinson, who helped the brewery develop the beer. Our group sat in an area at the right of the entrance, and away from the bar, where the lighting was rather subdued. A request to increase the intensity, seemed to fall on deaf ears.

With time ticking on it was time to move on to the final pub of the day, which was just a block or so further, up the hill from the Silk Trader. The Wharf turned out to be a pleasant free house, offering a range of four cask ales, all brewed in Yorkshire. For me it was a choice of either the Ossett Yorkshire Blonde, or Barnsley Gold from Acorn Brewery. I opted for the latter, in memory of two people I used to know who originated from the famous South Yorkshire, former mining town. It was a pleasant enough beer, but by this time I had other things on my mind.

As the afternoon slowly wore on into evening, I had been checking my phone for travel updates on the trains home. A spate of cancellations indicated that the sooner I left Macclesfield, the better my chances were of getting home that night. There was only myself plus the two Mudgies left in the pub by this time, Will and Martin having departed earlier, so looking at my watch and realising the train for Stafford departed in 20 minutes time, I thanked Peter and Paul for their company, hurriedly said goodbye, and hot-footed it to Macclesfield station.  Fortunately, it was downhill for most of the way, and I managed to catch my train without having to break into a sweat.

As hinted earlier, there’s more to come about my visit to Maccy, the trials and tribulations associated with train travel during a period of industrial unrest, and, most importantly the other amazing pub we found in the town, that was every bit s good as the first one (Castle). To be continued.

 

Pre-loading before the firm's Christmas bash

Friday 1^st December, saw me in Tunbridge Wells, ahead of a Christmas Party invitation. It’s that time of year, and whilst many will think it far too early to be thinking of the festering season, my firm thought otherwise – or at least some female members of staff did. That might sound slightly sexist, but in my 40 years + experience of such events, it is invariably the ladies who like to plan and organise these get-togethers. There was one memorable year though, when myself and the works engineer, sorted out the party arrangements, but that was only because it allowed us to visit potential venues to check out what was on offer. In pre-internet days, this was often the only way of organising the Christmas Party.

I digress, but this year’s bash broke with protocol by plumping for an evening event, at a different location. Covid aside, for the majority of my 17 years with the company, our Christmas party/meal has taken place at the Little Brown Jug, a large, but cosy and comfortable pub just 10 minutes’ walk along the road, from our factory in Chiddingstone Causeway. The “Jug” is also directly opposite Penshurst railway station – an important consideration for those indulging in a glass or three of something inebriating, with their festive meal.

We have tried various combinations of afternoon or evening events, the latter having the advantage of extending the invitation to the spouses or partners of staff members. However, as the company has grown in size, we have reverted to a mid-afternoon event reserved solely for employees. The Little Brown Jug has invariably laid on a sumptuous, and almost gut-busting, three-course meal for us, and to my mind there was little need to change. Other voices prevailed though, which meant the search was on for an alternative venue. To cut a long story short, we opted for a pub-cum-restaurant in Tunbridge Wells, and for an evening function, and that is why I found myself in Tunbridge Wells, last Friday.

With a 5pm meet-up at the restaurant, I potentially had several hours to enjoy, but after deciding that with an open bar tab at the party venue, I would need to pace myself as far as drink was concerned, I left it until just before 3 pm before taking the train over to the Wells. On arriving in the town, I made my way up from the station towards the main shopping area, primarily because I wanted to stop off at the bank. From there it was just a short hop to Allkin Tap & Bottle, at the far end of Calverley Road. This recently opened establishment is a welcome addition to the local beer scene in Tunbridge Wells, and the people behind the place are Allkin Brewery, who are based in Eridge, which is just a few miles across the border into Sussex.

Allkin Brewing started life as “Good Things Brewing” back in 2018. The brewery was housed in an attractive 17^th Century barn, next door to the family home, and by generating their own electricity, drawing up their own bore hole water, re-using waste products from the brewing process and delivering beer in their own electric van, established itself as the most sustainable brewery in the UK. Things were working out fine, and the even managed to survive lock-down, until on Sunday 25^th July 2021, the brewery was tragically struck by lightning and burnt to the ground.

A period of crowdfunding then followed and has resurfaced as Allkin Brewing Company. I’m not sure if the new brewery is up and running yet, or whether some of the beers are currently contract-brewed, although looking at the website, I suspect the latter situation applies. Looking for a place to showcase their beers, the company acquired a former shop unit at the far end of Calverley Road, Tunbridge Wells, which they opened as the Allkin Tap & Bottle six months or so ago. Initially, opening was restricted to Thursday to Sunday, but recently was extended to seven days a week.

I knew the local CAMRA branch had been keeping an eye on the place, and I had seen some good reports about it on one of the WhatsApp groups. It was no surprise then to find a couple of West Kent CAMRA members sitting there, at a table next to the window, when I walked in on Friday. They were probably surprised to see me, as I don’t get over that much to Tunbridge Wells, but after exchanging a few pleasantries, I ordered myself a beer, and joined then at their table. I’d taken the trouble earlier, to select a couple of beers from the Tap’s website, and started off with Flip the Bird, a 4.5% pale ale from Allkin. It was a keg beer, in common with most of the other beers at the tap. A total of 15 keg lines serves up a mix of beers and ciders from approved brewers, based throughout the UK, but a single cask beer is dispensed by hand pump. The choice of beer changes weekly, to ensure the freshest beer is always available.

I switched to cask for the second beer, and this was Plateau from Burning Sky Brewery, who are based close to the village of Firle, in the shadow of the South Downs. Apart from me plus my two CAMRA companions, there was only a handful of people in the Tap, but as the afternoon drew on, the place started filling up. The pub interior is long and slim with bench and stool seating, looking towards the bar counter and serving area to the right of the building. It seemed quite canine friendly, with canines of varying breeds and descriptions, present, along with their human owners/handlers.

Food, at the moment, seems limited to cold meats, pate, and cheeses, in the same vein really as nearby Fuggles. My companions were enjoying some sort of spread on artisan bread, but I had a meal waiting for me, just down the road. With this in mind, I polished off my final beer, a half of London Black Porter from Ansbach & Hobday, said goodbye to my companions, and set off back down the hill, towards the station.

The venue hosting our Christmas celebration was the Barn, a rebuild of an old barn using some of the original beams and bricks, which lies just off Mount Pleasant in the middle of town and a short walk from the station. There’s not a huge amount to report, on the venue, or the meal, so I shall save that particular pleasure for another day.

 

All good things come to an end - even Mediterranean cruises!

As we rapidly approach the final month of 2023, it's perhaps worth taking a look at the final chapter of last month’s marathon Mediterranean cruise. You left us as our ship, the Queen Victoria, departed the Sardinian capital of Cagliari. That was on the final Saturday of the voyage, and by the end of the week we would be back in Southampton. After leaving Cagliari we had two full days at sea, and for the first one, the weather was just as glorious as it had been for the majority of the cruise. That day was also the morning when our ship passed through the Straits of Gibraltar.

Unlike our passage through the "Pillars of Hercules" on the outward voyage, which took place after dark, Sunday morning’s passage took place in daylight. Unfortunately, the view towards the shore was spoiled slightly by hazy mist, as we passed through this narrow stretch of water that forms the boundary between the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean. 

From the top deck it seemed as if the rest of the cruise ship was there too, in order to enjoy the spectacle. Our passage through the straits began at 11:00 am, which was an hour earlier than the captain advised the previous day., and despite the crowds we managed to find a position where we could see both sides. So, with Africa on our port (left) side, and Europe on the starboard right) side, we watched as we departed the Mediterranean and headed out towards the open Atlantic. The haze was less pronounced on the Spanish side and with the aid of my binoculars, I had a reasonably good view of the rock of Gibraltar and the settlement around the port area at the base of the rock.

The second sea day, which was a Monday, was definitely the last one of warm, sunny weather and calm seas, although It wasn't until early evening that the sea conditions started to deteriorate. After enjoying Curry Night at the Lido Buffet, we went up on deck where we joined a group of fellow passengers and enjoyed a few drinks plus a chat. The news on the boat was that a storm was forecast to hit Lisbon the following day, which was the day we were due to dock at the Portuguese capital. Rumours were rife that the captain might decide not to call at Lisbon, due to perceived difficulties and turning into the estuary of the Tagus river.

Speculation continued as to where else we might end up, with Vigo or even Cherbourg touted as possible alternative destinations. With this speculation buzzing around in my head, and sea conditions worsening I didn’t sleep that well, despite being quite late to bed. The following morning, whilst it was still dark, I looked out the balcony window to find my eyes drawn by a number of bright red lights, seemingly above the ship. It turned out to be the Queen Victoria passing beneath the impressive Ponte 25 de abril suspension bridge, which crosses the river Tagus a short distance from the centre of Lisbon.

We had obviously made it to the city, and as the dull, grey, and rather overcast day slowly dawned it was a very windswept Lisbon that we were looking out over. We had breakfast in our cabin that morning in readiness to disembark on a pre booked excursion, with a selection of scrambled eggs, streaky bacon, toast, and plenty of tea, sufficient to set me up for the day. The disembarkation point was down on deck 2, and once on terra firma, we had a bit of a route march through the port processing area, and down to the exit and the waiting tour buses. Our coach was nice and comfortable, but heavy rain, driven by the strong winds rather spoiled the view out the windows.

Leaving the cruise terminal our coach continued along the shoreline, before heading inland, following a route that climbed uphill, through some rather unattractive looking, high-rise developments. From the direction of travel I guessed, correctly as it turned out, that we were heading towards the Ponte 25 de abril, the large and impressive suspension bridge we had passed under earlier that morning. We crossed the bridge, high above the river Tagus and the settlements far below. After being delayed in a residential area we reached our first stop, but to be brutally honest it wasn't one that impressed me as much as it perhaps ought to have done. The Cristo Rei (Christ Statue), is one of the most iconic monuments in Lisbon, standing high above the southern banks of the Tagus estuary. It depicts Christ with his arms raised, blessing the city, but with a gale blowing, and the rain lashing down, being on top of a hill, with only a café and gift shop for shelter wasn’t exactly the best place to be.

I'm not at all religious, although I like churches, cathedrals, and other ecclesiastical structures, but this huge and austere looking concrete statue did absolutely nothing for me. Had the weather been better we would have enjoyed a fantastic panorama of the bridge, and the city from a viewing terrace at the base of the monument, but we only found out about this after we returned home. After a quick “comfort stop” there was insufficient time to grab a coffee, before being herded back onto the coach. Unfortunately, this became an all too familiar feature that of the tour.

The highlight of the tour certainly for Eileen, but also for me, was enjoying a Portuguese custard tart each. I picked these delicacies up at the café attached to the Maritime Museum, but after waiting for Eileen who had joined the queue for the ladies, again there was very little time away from the coach before having to be back on board. We just had time to enjoy our tarts, but again there was no time for a coffee. The rest of the tour was spent on the coach, although I did manage to get more than a glimpse of Lisbon, and it certainly seems an attractive city and somewhere worthy of a future visit. 

Our guide was pleasant and very knowledgeable and helped make the tour enjoyable and interesting. She apologised for the delays which were down to heavy traffic. The guide claimed this was due to the adverse weather, as for some reason local people prefer to drive and sit in their own cars, rather than wait for buses and trams in wet weather. This was my second visit to Lisbon, the first time being whilst still at school, as a pupil in the fifth form I'd also arrived in the city on a cruise ship, but it was a very different vessel to the Queen Victoria.

This was because in 1971 I was on a two-week educational cruise made up of school parties drawn from across Kent. Our vessel was very different from the luxury of Queen Victoria, as the SS Nevasa was a converted, former troopship, operated by the British India Steam Navigation Company. The shipping line itself appeared to be a throwback to colonial times, because the crew (ordinary ratings) was drawn from the Indian subcontinent, whilst the officers, who were almost exclusively white, were largely British. Instead of a comfortable balcony stateroom, I slept with a dozen or more schoolmates in bunks, in a dormitory, where the only view was out through one of the portholes.

It was good fun though, and as my first overseas trip, the cruise certainly opened my eyes to the outside world. Later during 2023’s “Leisurely Tour” of Lisbon I recognised several landmarks that I’d visited half a century before. The only difference was the weather, as that first visit to the Portuguese capital took under blue skies, and warm, sunny conditions – a complete contrast to October’s stop-over. The weather couldn’t be helped and, as alluded to earlier, the tour certainly provided inspiration for a return visit.

That evening, our ship sailed down towards the mouth of the Tagus river, and out into the open waters of the Atlantic. As we left port, captain advised over the intercom, that the seas might be quite choppy, especially where the waters of the river meet with the ocean currents running along the Portuguese coast. He was right, and Eileen and I had fun making our way to the buffet that night, hanging on to one another as we passed the mid-ship swimming pool, up on deck 9, with water from the pool sloshing all over the place, as we did our best to avoid getting wet.

After a good night's rest, we awoke feeling refreshed, the motion of the ship having rocked us gently to sleep. I left Eileen in the cabin, to enjoy her room-service breakfast and headed to the Britannia Restaurant for some brekky of my own. The waiter guided me to a table, and pulled the chair out, so I could sit down. As I was about to do so, I realised I was directly facing the large set of windows at the stern, where the view of the horizon moving up and down, was very noticeable. I quickly asked if I could sit the other way round, which he of course agreed to, and without the reference point of a moving horizon, everything was fine. It's weird that the relative motion the ship could make one feel queasy, which I feel it might well have done, had I sat there staring at that up and down movement for too long.

Afterwards I'd planned on attending a question-and-answer session in the Royal Court Theatre with the ship's American captain, Evans Hoyt, but after walking several laps of the promenade deck and noticing that the sun had come, I decided to park myself on a vacant sun-lounger and read my book instead. 

It was most relaxing lying there reading, soaking up the sun, as the ship made her way steadily northwards. I decided I ought to go and track down my wife, even though I knew she'd be up on deck 10 having a vape. I joined her and we spent a very pleasant day out in the open, as the weather steadily improved, and the seas calmed right down.

There was a further day at sea, before we arrived back at Southampton, but it was quite uneventful, apart from having to pack our large suitcases and leave them outside the room, ready for the crew to collect and remove them from the ship, prior to disembarkation. We docked, early in the morning at the Queen Elizabeth Cruise Terminal, which is some distance from the Mayflower Terminal we departed from. The Q.E. Terminal is cramped, in comparison with the Mayflower, and it was rather chaotic when we got off the ship.

After struggling with our suitcases, we found a spot where we could wait for our pre-booked taxi to pick us up. Our cabbie eventually arrived, having been being stuck in heavy traffic around the port area. He loaded our luggage into the boot, and we then set off on the drive back to Tonbridge and home. We had been away from a total of 19 days, meaning we’d missed a sizeable chunk of October. It was a great experience though, plus a most relaxing and enjoyable holiday. Next year’s voyage probably won’t be quite as long, although we’ve plenty of time over the winter to see what’s available.

 

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.