Tunbridge Wells Circular Walk - complete at last!

A couple of Friday’s ago I finally finished the Tunbridge Wells Circular Walk, a task that took far longer than it should have done. For the uninitiated, the TWCW is a cross-country walk which, as its name suggests, is a route around the rural periphery of Tunbridge Wells. The route passes through the High Weald Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty and allows walkers to enjoy the undulating countryside of the High Weald, a landscape of patchwork fields, broad-leaved woodland, and parkland. On the way, it takes in the villages of Southborough, Pembury, Frant, Groombridge and Speldhurst. – a 27½ mile rural walk around the periphery of the former spa town of Tunbridge Wells.

I’d been aware of the TWCW for some time after a conversation with my friend Eric, who had completed the walk with his brother-in-law, some years previously. I had also walked parts of the trail myself, in the company of other friends/CAMRA members, on a number of different pub outings. That was the extent of my interest until a visit to Larkin’s Alehouse in Cranbrook in February 2022 , and there, on sale behind the bar, was a guidebook to the Tunbridge Wells Circular Walk .

I purchased a copy with the intention of walking this footpath myself, but before doing so, I needed to complete the North Downs Way. I’d been walking this long-distance-footpath, in stages, since the summer of 2017, and finally completed at the beginning of February 2023. This was almost a year to the day since buying that TWCW Guidebook, and during that time I’d been studying the route with interest. The book divides the walk into four, manageable sections, moving in a clockwise around Tunbridge Wells, leaving users the choice of four different starting points.

Later that month I began the walk in earnest, starting with the Southborough to Pembury section. As this is the longest stretch of the TW Circular, I completed it in two halves, due mainly to time constraints. February wasn’t the best month to be starting a cross-country walk, and conditions underfoot were wet and quite muddy in places. I also took a wrong turn as I approached Tonbridge, a mistake I only realised when I reached the railway line, instead of the A21 main road.  I ended up walking that missing last half mile or so, a few weeks later, for the sake of completeness.

It was halfway through May that I finally finished Tonbridge to Pembury section, following one of the wettest March and Aprils I can recall. The first part of the walk, up through the grounds of Somerhill House was a familiar one, as it forms part of a walk to Capel and the Dovecote Inn, but as the trail climbed up towards the area known as Dislingbury, it became much harder to follow.

I eventually found my way to the grounds of St Peter’s Old Church, the original place of worship for the settlement of Pippenbury, before the village was re-named and re-sited. A bench, in the tranquil setting of the old churchyard, formed the perfect place for me to sit and enjoy my packed lunch, before heading off, past the waterworks, to the A228 road. Snipe Wood, to the south of Pippin’s Farm, was the ideal place to get lost and completely throw me off course, but eventually I found my way out of the wood and into Pembury village itself. The King Wiliam IV, on the Old Hastings Road, provided a couple of welcoming pints, as reward for finally finishing this section.

The fine weather continued throughout May, so I felt confident in tackling the next stage of the circular walk, from Pembury to Frant. My objective was to follow the footpath as far as the village of Frant, which lies to the south of Tunbridge Wells, enjoy a pint, and possibly a bite to eat at the George Inn, before catching a couple of buses home. This particular stage was a very doable 5 miles, so I was confident of arriving at the George in time for lunch. I perhaps, should have known better, as a poorly signposted route through woodland, took me off course, not just once, but twice.

Fortunately, memories from a previous walk came to my assistance, and I emerged onto close to the rather prestigious Nevill Golf Club. Whilst passing the clubhouse, I asked a couple of golfers if I was heading in the right direction. I was, but this wasn’t quite the end of the walk.  

 After crossing the busy Bayham Road, I followed a track past a farm and then up into Chase Wood. I had walked the steep path through this wood previously, and in both directions, so I knew it was quite a climb. Eventually I emerged from the trees into the first of two fields that took me into Frant. I arrived at the attractive looking George Inn at a quarter to three, and fortunately for me, the pub was open all afternoon. Not so fortunate was missing the last orders for food by 15 minutes, but I was much more in need of liquid, rather than solid refreshment

It was February 2024, when I next set foot on the trail, this time with the aim of walking from Frant to Eridge. This equated to roughly half of the section detailed in the guidebook, which runs all the way to Groombridge. It had been the best part of eight months since I last set foot on the TWCW, a combination of poor weather, plus other commitments had dampened my enthusiasm, but with two weeks of dry and relatively warm weather, I was determined to do something about it.

I took the bus to Frant, and following a quick pint at Abergavenny Arms, set off to find the spot where the TWCW branches off from the main A267 road, and descends into Eridge Park. The drop down into the park was every bit as steep as I recalled from a walk 3½ years previously and was slippery as well. It also featured umpteen trip hazards, in the form of exposed tree roots. Worse was to come, in the form of mud, so my initial optimism that it might be reasonably dry underfoot, soon vanished. The muddy conditions made for slow going, meaning that a walk which should only have taken an hour, ended up taking nearly two because of the constant need to make my way around the worst of the muddy areas.

After passing a series of ornamental lakes at the bottom of the valley it was time to climb back up to higher ground, where I encountered another place where the path deviated from what seemed like the most logical route. With the end in sight, there were two fields filled with sheep to pass through, but unfortunately, they weren’t “friendly” sheep, and seemed determined to harass this person who had invaded their territory. You can read more about my ovine encounter here, and I’m pleased to report I reached the end of the path, unscathed. The Nevill Crest & Gun pub, just a few minutes’ walk away, provided one of the best pints of Harvey’s that I’d had in a long time, and with the bus stop just a short distance away, the ideal place to finish my walk.

Poor weather again intervened leaving a two-month gap before conditions improved sufficiently for me to resume the TWCW. So, in mid-April I picked from where I left off back at the start of February, by taking the No. 29 bus to Eridge Green.  My aim was to walk the three and a half miles from Eridge to Groombridge, passing on the way the impressive rocky outcrops that make up Harrison’s Rocks. Despite a much-needed dry spell at the start of April, the weather again took a turn for the worse, with several heavy downpours, mid-afternoon, that caught me out, right in the middle of a ploughed field. I’d more or less dried out by the time I’d reached the aforementioned Harrison’s Rocks, which are quite impressive and surprisingly high in places.

The Rocks are popular with both novice rock scramblers, and more experienced mountaineers, and form a backdrop to the Spa Valley Railway, whose line follows the valley floor in its run between Eridge and Groombridge stations. There was no welcoming pint at the end of the walk, at least not at Groombridge, but this was due to bus timings rather than anything else, so I called in at Fuggles Beer Cafe instead, when I got back to Tunbridge Wells.

10 days ago, I finally finished the Tunbridge Wells circular, by walking the entire section between Groombridge and Southborough. The guidebook claims this section is just over six miles in length, but they must be “country miles” as the walk seemed considerably longer, especially after I stopped for a rest and a well-earned pint at the George & Dragon in Speldhurst. The guidebook delivered this time around, and more than proved its worth on several occasions.

The Harvey’s at the G&D was in top form, which was just as well, as I found the stretch between Speldhurst and Southborough quite challenging. I was very relieved then when I arrived at Southborough Common, and after passing the long-closed, but sadly missed Beehive pub, at Modest Corner, was soon traversing the cricket ground from where the bus home awaited me.

Despite its modest 27½ mile length, the TWCW is still quite a challenge, in terms of terrain, quality of footpaths - especially the absence of waymarks from where they perhaps should be, and the availability of public transport to convey walkers to and from the various section start and end points. It also “belongs” to this area, as do other localised walks in their own unique setting. What I’m trying to say here is, because it is circular, rather than linear it doesn’t form part of any longer footpaths or indeed any networks of walks. There is still a sense of achievement for having completed it, but it’s not the same as a long-distance, linear walk such as the North or South Downs.

So, what next? Well, Kent Ramblers have published a guide to “Three River Valley Walks in West Kent”, and these are Darent Valley Path, Eden Valley Walk and Medway Valley Walk. The guide follows the same format TWCW, with descriptions of the routes and full-colour mapping. The walks are divided into convenient sections that connect with rail stations, or local buses, meaning they are readily accessible so you can leave the car at home. The only question is, which of these three walks will I attempt first?

The best laid plans go astray, even on the buses

On Thursday, I joined a small group of local CAMRA members on what promised to be my second foray into darkest Sussex. The branch social secretary had arranged a visit to the village of Rotherfield, stopping off at the tiny settlement of Mark Cross on the way. Rotherfield is the neighbouring village to Mayfield which, if you remember, was the place I wanted to visit, following my bus ride out that way, at the end of last week. The CAMRA outing therefore seemed the perfect opportunity to experience Rotherfield’s two remaining pubs, whilst enjoying some pleasant, shared company, in the process. So, what could possibly go wrong?

West Kent CAMRA bus trips have an unfortunate habit of going astray, despite the often quite meticulous planning by the organisers, but that prospect was far from my head when I joined my fellow passengers ("bus wankers" according to Mrs PBT’s), at the bus stop out side Tunbridge Wells’s Royal Victoria Place, shopping centre.

I’d arrived in the Wells with plenty of time to spare, enough in fact to enjoy an expensive, but rather nice flat white coffee, from Café Nero. I normally get my coffee from Greggs, priced at just £2, but following Mrs PBT’s adage about getting what you pay for, bit the bullet and went for the posh option, which was nearly double, at £3.70! The barista, or whatever fancy name coffee chains give their coffee fixers/pourers, asked if I would like to try their promotional single variety, Brazilian beans? Same price? Was my response. No, 30p extra, was the reply. I politely informed him he could keep his Brazilian beans, and told him that I don’t respond well to up-selling, either!

Grumpy old git bit out of the way, I joined my CAMRA comrades as they boarded the bus. Being near the rear of the queue, I missed what the driver had said to them, but basically, due to road works (more road works?), narrow country lanes, and a not quite so narrow bus, the 51 would not be calling at Rotherfield until the works were finished.  (Note, how the powers that be, always describe such works as “essential.”) A brief crisis management discussion then ensued, which resulted in our party still boarding the bus, with the aim of alighting at Mark Cross, and the first pub of the day – the Lazy Fox. 

Formerly the Mark Cross Inn, this large pub has received an extensive makeover, and is now forms part of Elite Pubs, growing estate. You might remember me writing about another of the group’s pubs, the Vineyard at Lamberhurst where, as a family, we celebrated the final birthday of my sixtieth decade on this rock we call, Planet Earth.  

The Lazy Fox follows a similar pattern, with its tiled floors, floral-painted walls, and extensive dining areas complete with its own pizza oven. There are also reputed to be stunning views from the rear garden, but given the wet and windy conditions outside, we didn’t investigate this further. Whether the Fox counts as a true village “local” is open to question, although judging by the number of tables already occupied at quarter to one on a Thursday lunchtime, it is obviously a popular destination for the smart set who like to dine out.

We managed to find a couple of vacant tables, but not before ordering ourselves a beer, from a choice of Harvey’s Sussex Best or Sharp’s Solar Wave Hazy IPA. Oh no, a pint of murk, and whilst I normally avoid such abominations, I was feeling devilish that afternoon (something to do with the wind?), that I thought I’d give it a go. Described by the brewery as “a vibrant, golden, juicy, hazy IPA brewed to hit the sweet spot between fruitiness and hop bitterness,” I found it far more fruity than bitter, although it was perfectly acceptable – as a “one off”!

The great debate then ensued as to where to go next, or to stay at the Fox for something to eat. The wood-fired pizzas coming out of the oven, certainly looked tempting, although the prices seemed equally mouthwatering. Some members of the group succumbed, with one couple (not related), deciding to share one. The rest of us wanted to eat somewhere a bit more down to earth, but with Rotherfield and its two pubs denied to us, where to go next?

Mayfield with its excellent Rose & Crown, that I visited the week before seemed the obvious choice, but there were a couple of people in our part with mobility issues, and the walk to the pub along Fletching Street would have been too much. 

The Middle House Hotel was deemed too posh, so the only options were to board the next bus heading south and try our luck in places such as Five Ashes, or Heathfield, or head back towards Tunbridge Wells. The first option would take us into uncharted territory, whilst the second would take us to places that were more familiar. I was all for a bit of exploring, although it would have been stabbing in the dark somewhat, as a poor internet connection at the Fox, left us unable to check out sites, such as What Pub.

Northwards it was then, with the village of Frant our destination. We left the three members who were still eating, at the Fox, and upon leaving the bus at Frant, split into two with four of us heading to the Abergavenny Arms, whilst the other two making for the George Inn. I quite fancied trying the George, but it was the food offer at the Abergavenny that caught me attention. One member of the group had noticed a two courses for £12 offer, advertised in a local business magazine, and as we entered the pub there were some  leaflets promoting this offer. Most of us went for the haddock and chips, with a deep-fried, king prawn starter, although the pate and toast also looked a good, first-course option. Harvey’s Sussex Best was the sole cask offering, but it was in good form.

Whilst the Abergavenny wasn’t packed, it still seemed to be ticking over nicely, with two other tables of diners, no doubt taking advantage of the two for £12 offer. Before leaving, we were joined for a short period by the two members who went to the George. Harvey’s again was the cask option. I like the George, having called in there for the first time last summer, after completing a section of the Tunbridge Wells Circular Walk, but the four of us who ate at the Abergavenny definitely enjoyed the better deal. It was back on the bus again after that, although there was still no sign of the two people we’d left behind at Mark Cross. We later discovered that two buses in succession had been cancelled, leaving our friends stranded for another hour at Mark Cross.

We didn’t have far to travel to the next pub, which was the Bull on Frant Road, right on the edge of Tunbridge Wells. It’s a Shepherd Neame house, which probably explains why I had never been in there before, but despite this, the Bull appeared a pleasant, bright and airy pub, apart from there being no cask ale available. This was evident from the lack of pump-clips on any of the three, retro-looking, stainless steel hand pulls. The young barmaid was quite apologetic about the situation, but they’d only had their delivery that morning, and the beer hadn’t had time to clear.

Oh dear, we’re the Campaign for Real Ale, and there’s no real ale for us to drink. I was tempted to stay for a glass of Beavertown, and might well have done had my companions not decided to leave. (One member stayed for a short while, in order to update the Bull’s What Pub entry). I felt bad about leaving, but as one of my companions said, later on, what sort of pub let’s its cask stocks run so low, that they end up with none ready for sale? There might have been a perfectly rational explanation, but given the situation, I left the Bull along with my companions and headed down to the Pantiles area of Tunbridge Wells, on foot.

The Pantiles is the oldest, and most famous part of the Wells, and the pub we were making for once had a legendary reputation in the town. Tucked away in a small courtyard, the Sussex Arms has mellowed over the years back to something that resembles what it was like before the revamp and tart-up the pub received when that area of the Pantiles was “gentrified" in the late 1980’s. It’s never going to be quite the same as it was when the legendary Dennis and Barbara Lane were the licensees – and you can read my thoughts about the old Sussex here.

There was a good line up of beers on the bar, including a couple from the local Fonthill Brewing Co, who based in a stale block behind the George public house on Mount Ephraim, at the other end of Tunbridge Wells. Psychedelic Jungle West Coast IPA, a hoppy and fruity IPA, but being “West Coast” it is bright, rather than hazy. There was a pleasant and relaxed atmosphere inside the Sussex that afternoon, and the pub certainly felt like a comfortable and secure haven from the wind and the rain outside.

We visited one more pub that afternoon, which was Fuggles at the top end of Tunbridge Wells. The less mobile and less fit members of the party travelled up by bus, whilst the rest of us walked up, despite the hilly nature of the town. Fuggles was buzzing when we arrived, although there were still sufficient spare seats and tables where we could base ourselves. Also present in the pub, were several other CAMRA members and sympathisers.

As with the Sussex Arms, the beer range at Fuggles was exemplary, and star of the show was a beer from Thornbridge Brewery, brewed using one of the Burton Union sets. 90 Shilling, described as an American Amber Ale, is said to be a version of the 90/- Ale brewed by Colorado-based Odell Brewing Company. Whatever its origin, and its make-up, it was the best beer of the day, and that includes some excellent Harvey’s at the Abergavenny.

So, not quite the day out we had been expecting, but nevertheless an interesting and enjoyable one. The only downside, for me, was not visiting Rotherfield, but that can easily be rectified at a later date.

Definitely Mayfield (Maybe)

Next year, if I’m spared, I will have lived in Tonbridge for 40 years, with 30 of them spent in the same property. That's quite a record in this day and age, especially given that people are far more mobile than they would have been three or four generations ago. When you've lived in the same town for four decades, you ought to know pretty much everything there is to know about your adopted home town, as well as the surrounding area. Despite this, your local habitat can still throw up the odd surprise, no matter how comfortable and knowledgeable you happen to be in your particular Wohnung, and this is what happened to me the other day, but fortunately in a nice sort of way.

There's a triangular-shaped section of rural Sussex, to the south of Tunbridge Wells, that is something of a mystery to me. It remains unexplored, primarily because I’ve never had any real reason to go there, until the other day that is. I’d been racking my brains for somewhere to visit for “Pub Friday” especially as I hadn’t enjoyed an end of week outing for some time, when this particular area of Sussex suddenly sprung to mind. It is home to two charming villages which, because of their tucked away location, remain unexplored – at least by me. Those villages are Mayfield and Rotherfield, with the former being the larger of the two.

Mayfield is close to the A267 Tunbridge Wells to Eastbourne road, whilst Rotherfield is roughly half-way between this road, and the suburb of Crowborough, known as Jarvis Brook. Both villages have a couple of pubs each, but working on the premise that it would be a rush to visit both villages in a single day, I decided to go to Mayfield first, and save Rotherfield for another day. After all, I haven't got the stamina of Retired Martin, or BRAPA! For some reason I thought these settlements were further away than they actually are, but a look on the map, plus a quick Google search of the bus routes,  revealed they're just over 20 minutes away from Tunbridge Wells by bus. Stagecoach No. 51 bus operates a half hourly service to Mayfield, and every hour the same bus makes a detour to Rotherfield, which makes sense given the relative size of these two villages.

I had been to Mayfield once before, which was back in the day when Mrs PBT's was trying to trace her family tree. It had come to light that some of her ancestors had lived either in the village or close to it, so we spent the morning looking around the churchyard for clues. It then transpired that it was Maresfield, close to Uckfield that her forebears came from.  I also recall driving through the village although I can't remember now where I was going to. Perhaps I was just doing a bit of exploration?

The other reason why these two settlements entered my consciousness, is CAMRA – related, and dates from my move from Maidstone to Tonbridge during the mid-80’s. I’d been asked by the regional organiser to assist with the revival of the then moribund, Tonbridge & Tunbridge Wells branch; a task I undertook with the help of a couple of Tonbridge-based CAMRA members. In those days the branch area included a chunk of North East Sussex, that included Eridge and Crowborough, as well as Mayfield and Rotherfield.

My new buddies and I had enough on our plates dealing with the Kent area of the branch, so ignored Sussex to begin with, until we received an instruction to conduct up to date pub surveys for all the pubs in the branch area. None of us knew anything about the chunk of Sussex, we’d been lumbered with, but despite this lack of knowledge, we had to roll up our sleeves and get on with it. We had an old Sussex CAMRA pub guide to go by, but much of this area seemed like a foreign country to us.

Using a bit of initiative, I managed to persuade a Sussex-based work colleague to conduct some of these surveys. This was when I employed at Crown Chemicals, a pharmaceutical company based at Lamberhurst, close to the border between Kent and Sussex. My colleague undertook the task with relish, and out of interest, I’ve dug out that 1987 Sussex CAMRA guide, and discovered that both Rotherfield and Mayfield had five pubs apiece, compared with just two each left today. Eventually my CAMRA colleagues and I were able to ditch the Sussex section of the branch, and after adopting Sevenoaks, another branch which had disbanded, the current West Kent CAMRA branch came into being.

I’ve digressed somewhat, but sometimes it’s good to look back, especially when there’s a connection to the present day. “Pub Friday” saw me catching the 11.56 Stagecoach bus in the direction of Heathfield (another Sussex settlement I am unfamiliar with). 

This was the direct service, which bypasses Rotherfield. I left the bus in Mayfield High Street, almost directly outside the imposing 16^th Century, Middle House Hotel. Rather than dive straight in though, I decided first to have a look around this picturesque, Sussex village. Full of character and olde world charm and blessed with plenty of independent shops – including the perennial but obligatory coffee shops, Mayfield’s narrow High Street mercifully, now, carries relatively light, mainly local traffic.

This wasn’t always the case, as until the early 90’s it formed part of the traffic chocked, main A267 Tunbridge Wells – Eastbourne highway. Relief came in 1991 when the redundant track bed of the former Tunbridge Wells – Eastbourne railway, the so-called "Cuckoo Line," was converted into a bypass for the village. The railway itself closed in 1968, another victim of the notorious “Beeching cuts” which closed and tore up many allegedly, under-performing routes across the nation’s rail network. However, some good did come of this process in Mayfield’s case.

I wandered along to the far west of the High Street, admiring the plentiful old buildings, whilst thinking that the village has a slight “alternative” feel to it. This was nowhere near as strong as say Hebden Bridge, or Hay-on-Wye, as there appears to be plenty of money abounding in Mayfield, but the alternative vibe appeared again when I reached Mayfield’s other remaining pub.

I’d initially been heading in the wrong direction, whilst looking for the Rose & Crown, a situation confirmed by Google Maps. I retraced my step back along the High Street, passing the church whose tombstones Mrs PBT’s and I had scrambled round some 30 years previously. I also passed the front entrance to Mayfield School, a prestigious boarding school for girls. Just past the school is where the road from Tunbridge Wells comes into the village, and it is also where Fletching Street – the road I was looking for, comes in as well.

Fletching Street was quite narrow, and also drops away quite sharply, as it continues down towards lower ground. There are plenty of attractive houses and cottages on either side of this road, all looking their summer best with floral displays, flowering shrubs and other delightful seasonal blooms that look so good at this time of year. I passed the former Carpenter's Arms, about halfway down on the left, sadly closed but still displaying its name on the outside of the building. The Carpenter's was one of three Mayfield pubs that have closed sine that 1987 CAMRA guide appeared, and I also passed another – the former Royal Oak in the High Street, earlier in the day.

Eventually the Rose & Crown came into view. It is a delightful, white weather-boarded country pub set on a bank, overlooking a fork in the road. Internally the pub is divided into four areas, some for food, others with sofas, for lounging about on, but being such a fine day, I opted to take my drink, plus packet of Piper’s crisps, onto the terraced area at the front. There was a choice of two cask ales, Leveson Buck, a 3.7% Session IPA from Titsey Brewery, plus Pells Pale, a new-look beer from Harvey’s. Titsey seem to be getting around quite a bit of late, and I enjoyed a pint of their beer in Folkestone, a few weeks ago, but my loyalty to Harvey’s remained undiminished as I enjoyed a cool and refreshing pint of this fruity, hoppy and slightly dry pale ale.

A couple of tables away, two cyclist who had recently arrived, were sharing what sounded like a post mortem on a recent family wedding. I’m not sure how enthralled their audience was, but it appeared they had been overcharged for the prosecco. What else could it have been in Mayfield’s obvious monied community? 

Later on, I popped back inside to return my empty glass, thank the girl behind the bar and take a few photos. Before leaving though, I had a conversation which I fortunately manged to cut short, with a chap sitting at the bar. The alternative feel surrounding Mayfield was fair enough, but when the talk moved towards dodgy Russian money being laundered in the village (on flash-looking properties, presumably), it was time for me to leave.

I made my way back up the hill, thinking that despite the conspiracy theorist sat at the bar, the Rose & Crown would be a nice pub to return to, and take Eileen with me, as well. I was aiming for the Middle House Hotel, but first I needed something to eat, but not at posh-pub prices. Fortunately, the local and well-stocked Londis, opposite the posh school, came to my rescue, in the form of a chilled, but still tasty, Ginsters Cornish Pasty. I sat in the conveniently sited bus shelter, where I enjoyed this cheap and cheerful snack – Cooking Lager will no doubt soon be taking the piss, but what the hell.

I then crossed to the prestigious looking Middle House, a double-fronted building dating from 1575, with lots of intricate looking, black painted timbering, set against a white background. It has only functioned as a pub since 1927 and has a predictable and cosy old world feel to it. Internally there is a large bar area, with two large fireplaces at either end, plus there is a separate restaurant to the right of the main bar. There are one or two other rooms as well, but my initial thought upon walking in, were where is everybody?

That question was answered later, after I’d ordered myself a pint of Long Man Best Bitter. Cool, smooth and immaculately kept, which made the £5.10 price tag rather more acceptable. I asked the barman about sitting outside, and he directed me through the archway at the side of the pub, where I instantly discovered where everyone was! Moat were sat out on a large terrace area, overlooking an equally spacious garden, and as I wrote in my notes, this was where Mayfield’s beautiful people hang out. There seemed to be lots of family reunions/get-togethers taking place – A level result celebrations, possibly, taking place, but as well as various meals being consumed, the garden still seemed to welcome casual drinkers like me.

I hung my pint out a bit, as I wanted to catch the slower of the two buses back, in order to catch a glimpse of neighbouring Rotherfield. Unfortunately, the view from a single deck bus wasn’t quite the same as the double-deck bus I’d arrived on, but I still managed to clock the locations of Rotherfield’s two pubs, the King's Arms and the Catt’s Inn. Both looked appealing, and definitely worthy of a further trip, on the No.51 bus, next “Pub Friday.”