The Somerhill - an update, of sorts

Just a quick update on the continuing speculation concerning the Somerhill pub in Pembury Road, Tonbridge. Prior to going on holiday, I wrote about renovation work taking place at the long-term closed pub, which has had quite a checkered history over the past decade or so. Following my return to the UK, further news has come to light, although those hungry for news, of for more details of what is going on at the pub, are likely to remain disappointed. 

We have a relatively recent, online news site, called the "Tonbridge Bean", that has started up in the town, and amongst many other items of local interest, I was banking on an update regarding the Somerhill. There wasn’t much, that I didn’t already know, and you can read what little there was, shortly. In the meantime, I signed up to the news site because, like many local residents, I’m interested in what is going on in our town.

So, according to Tonbridge Bean, the Somerhill is now being refurbished, with the new team aiming to bring a renewed energy and atmosphere to the venue. This was apparent after driving past the building, last week, when I couldn’t help but notice, the quite striking change in colour of the exterior of the pub. The rather drab-looking, cream exterior has been painted a rather vivid green, that is certainly eye-catching, although according to Mrs PBT’s knowledge of such matters, green is not a lucky colour!

Leaving such superstitions aside, I think the new colour scheme is a considerable improvement, and in the interest of bringing local pub stories to my readers I took a stroll down to the Somerhill this afternoon. Apart from the change in colour, there wasn’t much happening, but it was Saturday afternoon, a day plus a time, not normally favoured by the construction trade for carrying out building work. But what of the Somerhill’s future? The exact details of the reopening, and the new features are still under wraps, but according to Tonbridge Bean, the current work promises a fresh, modern interior while hopefully retaining some of the pub’s historic local character.

None of this confirms, or even counters the rumours I heard, back in the summer, but as they are just that – rumours, they will stay under wraps, until such time that the new owner(s) wishes to make them public. The Somerhill is only 15 minutes’ walk from Bailey Towers, and as I wrote just a few weeks ago, I look forward to seeing the pub reopening and to stepping through the doors of a refurbished and potentially repurposed pub.

A return to Crater Lakes, fifty years on

Back in 1971, as a fifth form schoolboy, I embarked on what was billed as an “educational cruise”. It was a two-week voyage from Southampton and back, taking in Lisbon, Lanzarote, Madeira and the Azores. Half a century later, Mrs PBT’s and I undertook virtually the same trip in reverse, although we didn’t call at Lanzarote. Our cruise ship, Queen Victoria, was a far cry from the rather basic, SS Nevassa, converted former troop ship, and whilst I’ve no complaints about swapping the dormitory accommodation on the latter, for the well-appointed stateroom on Queen Victoria, I can’t help feeling a touch of nostalgia, when I look back on a voyage that represented my first trip overseas.

So, what I’m going to write about here, is the visit we made to San Miguel, the largest of the nine habitable islands that make up the Azores. After four days at sea, it was good to be back on dry land. Due to bad weather, we’d been unable to dock the previous day at Praia da Vitoria, the principle town of Terceira, the second largest island in the Azores archipelago. Fortunately, our ship’s captain, aided by a local pilot, had no difficulty in docking at Ponta Delgada the capital of San Miguel, and having pre-booked a half-day excursion around the island, I was off the boat at the first available opportunity, leaving Mrs PBT’s to enjoy a leisurely morning afloat.

I don’t recall much from that 1971 cruise, either in general, or our visit to Ponta Delgada specifically, but one detail stood out in the form of a remarkable geological features unique to this island. Known as Sete Cidades in Portuguese, and referred to as the Crater Lakes in English, this feature consists of two lakes located within a collapsed volcanic cone, known as a "caldera". These bodies of water sit next to one another and exhibit two contrasting colours when viewed from the rim of the crater. The lake furthest away is a deep blue, whilst the nearer one has a notable greenish tint. This colour difference comes from the depths of the water they contain, as the blue lake reflects the sky due to its depth, whereas the shallower, green lake, gets its hue from the abundant vegetation growing both in and around it.

I was enthralled by my visit on that first cruise, half a century ago, and absolutely delighted to be coming back for a second one, 50 years later. Deep down, I always wanted to return, and now I had that chance, but would the weather hold, so that we could view the lakes in all their majesty. 

Our trip to the crater lakes was prefaced by a visit to the Jardim Botanico Antonia Borges, one of several Botanic Gardens that are scattered across the Azores. As in neighbouring Madeira, the warm subtropical climate of these Atlantic islands provides ideal growing conditions for a wide variety of plants, drawn from many different locations around the world. I won’t attempt to list any, let alone describe them, but the photos give some idea of the many exotic species, growing in these quiet oases of colour, on the edge of the city. But if you are a plant buff, or just someone who appreciates some peace and quiet, then these gardens are well worth a visit.

Upon leaving the gardens, we re-boarded the coach, and drove off in a north-westerly direction, past the island’s main airport, and up into the hills and high ground at the tip of San Miguel. The coach continued to climb steadily, and soon we were in an area of rich vegetation, surrounded by mist, but would the haze clear by the time we reached Crater Lakes? It did, of course, although not completely, but after parking the coach, our guide led us, on foot, to the viewing area, high above the lakes themselves. 

Fifty years on, I'm pleased to report that the lakes didn't disappoint, although if I’m honest, they seemed smaller in size, and less extensive, than I remember – a phenomenon that often seems the case, when we look back at memories from our younger days, but whatever the case we were lucky with the timing of our visit, as not long afterwards the low cloud, which had been threatening all morning, finally engulfed the mountain summit that forms the backdrop to the lakes.

The final item on the tour was a visit to one of the several pineapple plantations that are scattered around some of the more low-lying areas of the island. The one our guide took us to was situated right on the edge of Ponta Delgada, and there we learned all about pineapple cultivation. The fruits are grown under glass, in numerous, old fashioned looking greenhouses – the type with wooden frames and glass panes, held in with old fashioned putty. The panes are coated in white wash to prevent the interiors from becoming too warm.

Pineapple plants fruit once every two years naturally, but with man’s interference, the growing cycle can be reduced to 14-16 months. This is achieved by a combination of careful cultivation, plus stressing the plants by introducing smoke into their immediate growing area. This stresses them into flowering earlier, than they would if left to their own devices. 

It was all very interesting, as was the on-site café-cum-bar where I purchased a nice and refreshing, quarter of pineapple, conveniently cut into slices, plus a verywelcome latte. I also noticed bottles of pineapple beer on sale, but somehow that just didn't seem right. No doubt some extreme beer enthusiasts might have been tempted, but I didn’t notice any off my fellow cruisers buying the stuff. After the tour, the coach dropped us back at the cruise terminal where I met up with Mrs PBT's. We had a wander around the harbour area and found Baia dos Anjos (Angel's Bay), a convenient restaurant and bar overlooking the water, just across from where Queen Victoria was berthed.

We treated ourselves to a spot of lunch in the form of a burger each, along with some “skin-on-fries”. Also, on sale was Super Bock Stout, so I ordered a 1/2 litre glass of this excellent, dark beer. Many people will be familiar with standard Super Bock beer, but this was the first time that I'd seen their stout. 

Afterwards we found a souvenir shop, where Eileen stocked up with crisps, a couple of tea towels, plus the obligatory fridge magnet, before heading back on-board ship.  Later that day Queen Victoria sailed from Ponta Delgada towards the lovely island of Madeira; a real gem amongst these Portuguese owned Atlantic islands.

 

Lucky Larkin's

After returning to the UK last Thursday afternoon, following our two-week absence, I was keen to get back to enjoying some proper English ale. I was also keen to track down some Larkin’s Porter, especially after my success, a month or so ago in coming across Harvey’s XXXX Old Ale. Both these beers are seasonal beers, whose availability is restricted to the winter months, although Harvey’s tend to “stretch” that period of sale from the start of October, right through into late March

After managing to “scoop” some XXXX Old Ale, I was left wondering would I be able to do the same with the Larkin’s Porter. The late Bob Dockerty, who was Larkin’s founder, head-brewer and proprietor, began the tradition of waiting until Bonfire Night before releasing the first batch of the season’s porter. For 30 years or more, this practice was quite strictly observed, with the majority of pubs stocking the beer, content to follow the November 5^th  rule, although since Bob’s passing, three years ago, this edict appeared to have become less strict. Bob always claimed that the beer was all the better after undergoing a six-week maturation period in cask. It is certainly well-conditioned, and pours with a really thick, creamy head.

With this in mind I was wondering when I would get the chance of enjoying my first glass(es) of porter, especially as I would be out of the country, from the last week in October through to the first weeks in November. Well-known beer-café Fuggle's have, for the past couple of years, taken up the mantle for promoting Larkin’s Porter, with both their Tonbridge and Tunbridge Wells outlets holding a launch evening for the beer on 31^st October, a week earlier than previously. So, with Halloween taking place whilst I was away, my concern was that by the time I returned, stocks at both Fuggle’s outlets would be exhausted.

On Friday, I checked Fuggle’s Tonbridge website and was pleasantly surprised to discover the beer still on sale, and despite the heavy head cold that both Eileen and I seem to have picked up onboard ship, I made an excuse to head down into Tonbridge. I was relieved to find the pump clip advertising the porter, still in place, so I ordered a pint (£5.10, and worth every penny). I expressed my surprise to the bar manager that the porter was still on sale, and he replied this was because both Fuggle’s outlets had doubled up on their order from last year.

 

Suffice to say I really enjoyed my pint of this excellent winter beer, secure in the knowledge that it was as fine a beer as ever. Dark and full-bodied and brewed from a grist that includes plenty of chocolate and crystal malts, Larkin’s Porter has a rich, full mouth feel, with plenty of bitterness to match the lush sweetness of the malts. At a strength of 5.2%, it is a beer for savouring, rather than swilling. I can feel smug and content now, secure in the knowledge that this harbinger of winter is freely on sale, ready to ward off the worst that winter can throw against us. (It’s been unseasonably warm, since my return last week!)

I’m not sure this is still the case, but Larkin’s only used to produce just two brews of this superb beer each year: one in mid-September, and the other towards the end of  November. Following brewing and primary fermentation, each brew is allowed to mature, in cask, for a minimum period of six weeks before it is released to trade, and I am presuming here that this practice has not changed. If you’re lucky enough to come across a pub selling this excellent beer, than do give it a try, as I’m sure you won’t regret it.

Cruising - a few observations that centre mainly on dining

Although it's only six months since our last cruise there is quite a lot that has changed on Cunard, and, as is often the case, the changes haven't been for the better. In the main they seem to be money saving exercises and, whilst innocuous on their own, these cutbacks have been applied across several different areas. This first became apparent when Mrs PBT’s went to order her room service breakfast for the following morning. Instead of the “pick and mix”, build your own breakfast, there were just three fixed options - Cunard (full English), American and Vegetarian. The lady of the house wasn't impressed as she is very much a “breakfast in the room” type of girl, and likes to choose the items that end up on her plate.

I on the other hand prefer to leave the room, and get out and about on the ship, either heading up to the well-stocked, Lido Buffet or, if I want something less hectic, and a lot more relaxed, I head to the Britannia Restaurant. The latter is particularly recommended if, like me, you happen to enjoy kippers or smoked haddock as your breakfast dish. Note these aromatic and strong-smelling fish dishes are not exactly encouraged at Bailey Towers, at least not by Mrs PBT's, so I tend to grab those occasions when they are available, with both hands.

The other advantage of the restaurant is that food is brought to your table and placed in front of you. This is a real bonus if you're breakfasting alone, a position that normally applies to me whilst away from home. In all the years I've known Mrs PBT’s she's never been one for breakfast away from the family home. Sure, she can serve up some pretty decent scrambled eggs on toast or, on slightly rarer occasions, a decent fry up. But wherever, or whenever we've travelled to, away from home, either in the UK or abroad, she's always preferred to take breakfast in the hotel or guest house room.

I’m not sure of the reason for this, as I much prefer to leave the hotel bedroom behind, before heading down for a decent, cooked breakfast. Son Matthew is the same and, before his current girlfriend appeared on the scene, he was invariably the one for going out for the first meal of the day. Sundays were always a favourite time of this, and over the years we have breakfasted at a wide variety of different establishments, ranging from basic transport cafes, or truck stops, to slightly more up market cafés, pubs, or the occasional restaurant.

Eileen, however, has always been a fan of room service, although I've never been able to understand why, and now on Cunard, with the exception of breakfast, room service meals are no longer all-inclusive. The club chicken sandwich I enjoyed, on the one evening that I didn’t fancy eating elsewhere, was perfectly acceptable, and on that occasion, I didn’t mind stumping up the additional $5. 

There are other reasons apart from cost and convenience, as to why I’ve never been a fan of room service eating, being the primary one. Settling down to enjoy a meal in a room that is primary designed for sleeping in, doesn’t make sense, and neither does it feel right. In addition, balancing a tray on one's knees, whilst trying not to spill one’s tea and coffee all over all the place, in the stuffy room that you've just been sleeping in has zero appeal. It might come across as romantic, for newly-weds and honeymoon couples, but let’s keep sleeping and dining separate, please!

As the buffet can be something of a free for all, with slightly too much pushing and shoving, for my liking, it makes sense to go down to the Britannia Restaurant – the posh dining area, if you like. Apart from the odd exception, the food offering in the restaurant is pretty similar to that served in the buffet. However, it is nicely presented and brought to your table by a smartly dressed waiter, without hurry or pressure. Your tea or coffee cup will be topped up at regular intervals, along with extra toast, or whatever else takes your fancy. 

The whole thing is much more civilised, than what you would get in the buffet, and you can also enjoy items such as porridge, Swiss Bircher, a selection of pastries plus, most importantly, grilled kippers. Try doing this in the buffet, when you are on your own, because the minute you leave your seat, to pick up more toast, or refill your cup, the waiting staff will whisk your plate away even if it there are any uneaten food items on it. You can always ask diners, on a nearby table, to keep an eye on your plate, but there is no guarantee that they will. Although the same restraints to the buffet, apply at lunchtime and evenings, so if you're a couple it’s easy to allow your partner to check out what they want first, before grabbing whatever takes your fancy, once they’ve returned to the table.

I wrote the next few paragraphs whilst still on Queen Victoria, sitting in one of the comfortable lounge areas on Deck 2, whilst Mrs PBT’s was up on Deck 10, getting her nicotine fix. I said at the time that I might join her later, as it would be nice to get some fresh air, despite the strong north-westerly wind blowing across the ship. 

At the time of writing, the ship was
roughly half way between the Azorean island of San Miguel and Madeira. There are plenty of similarly quiet places in which to escape the crowds, and these include a library, a bar area known as the Chart Room plus the Commodore Club, situated at the front of the ship, high up on Deck 10, overlooking the bow. As well as somewhere to relax, all these places offer refreshment in the form of coffee, or something a little stronger should you wish.

I mentioned cutbacks earlier, and while some might label them as penny pinching, they’re most clearly seen in a decline in quality of certain food items. Cunard is renowned for its afternoon teas, featuring delicately arranged finger sandwiches and their famous scones, with clotted cream and strawberry jam. However, the clotted cream served hardly resembles the real thing, being runnier than the traditional thick variety that holds its shape when spooned onto a plate. I wouldn’t go as far as my wife, who described it as similar to squirty cream, but there are definite signs of cost cutting here. There are other issues, although I don't feel inclined to discuss them in detail, as essentially, they're first world problems. However, if you pay a premium price expecting a premium experience and it falls short, that's not right. The cruise line has sent us a customer survey form, so I intend to express my opinions on these matters there.

Finally, a word about payments and keeping tabs on your account whilst on board. At the start of each cruise, each passenger is issued with their own personal voyage card - a credit card sized piece of plastic that not only is the key to your cabin – “Stateroom”, as Cunard like to call them, but a means of paying for none inclusive items such as alcoholic drinks, fancy coffees, meals in one of more of the “Signature” restaurants, shore excursions or anything else that takes your fancy, but which isn't included in the price of your ticket.

 

 

Back on dry land

A quick update, shortly after 7am this morning our cruise ship Queen Victoria, arrived back at her home port of Southampton, bringing to an end our 13-night expedition into the Atlantic, to the Azores, Madeira, Portugal and Spain. We disembarked the ship shortly after 8am, and amid the hustle and bustle of the baggage shed, located our several suitcases, most of which belonged to my good lady wife! 

 Then, after spreading them across two luggage trolleys, pushed them across to the car parking area. After retrieving the keys from the office, we loaded up the car and set off on the two-and-a-half-hour drive back to Tonbridge. This was a pleasant and relatively easy drive compared with a number of our fellow cruisers, some of whom faced journeys back to Wales, the North East and even Scotland – not the best way to finish a holiday!

Arriving that early in the morning meant hitting peak rush hour traffic in Southampton, but unlike previous occasions, we didn’t get lost. Even so, we took a slightly different route out of the city, which took us to the western edge of Southampton before joining the M27 and heading steadily east. Leaving Southampton behind, we continued along the motorway, past the turn-off for Portsmouth and then onto the A27, past Brighton and then, through some spectacular downland scenery to Lewes. The early start meant skipping breakfast, a comfort we both had become used to during the cruise, but I said to Eileen that we’d keep going and get a few miles under our belts, before stopping for a bite to eat.

A comfort stop was of greater importance than food, particularly for me, so at Lewes, we turned onto the A26 towards Tonbridge, and pulled in at the large Tesco's superstore, which we knew would have decent public toilets. We also picked up a few groceries to see us into the weekend, along with a “meal-deal” each, to act as breakfast! Tesco’s was absolutely rammed, but then I recalled that the previous night had been November 5^th which of course meant Lewes would be celebrating the event with its famous, and memorable Bonfire Night displays. If you've ever been to Lewes Bonfire Night, then you know it is certainly a celebration to remember, but it's also important to reflect that the event is primarily for local people. It involves the coming together of Lewes’s six Bonfire Societies, in a parade to the town’s War Memorial, at the top of the town, where respects are paid to the dead of two world wars and subsequent conflicts, before the bonfire boys and girls, as they like to call themselves, peel off to their own separate bonfire celebrations.

So, this morning, the worthy citizens of Lewes were busy stocking up after the previous night’s merry making. The vast majority of businesses in the town, tend to close mid-afternoon to allow staff time to head off, and celebrate with whichever Bonfire Society they belong to, either that or just give them time to get home safely, and tucked up indoors, away from the mayhem taking place in the streets outside. Last year’s event attracted around 40,000 visitors, quite a number to be packed into the confines of the town’s narrow streets. Driving out of Lewes this morning, in the direction of Tunbridge Wells, there were countless signs lining the roads, prohibiting people from parking on verges, or otherwise blocking routes into the town, and these notices extended for several miles. In recognition of these celebrations, I shall be cracking open a bottle of Harvey’s Bonfire Boy, a dark amber beer with a full malty, caramelised, bitter aftertaste, set against a superbly smoky background. This 5.8% ABV beer is brewed annually, to celebrate Lewes’s Bonfire Night festivities.

Getting back to the cruise, if I've counted correctly, it was the 9^th voyage that we’ve undertaken, and until this one, we’ve always been lucky with the weather. That luck of course, had to come to an end, and after a three-day run down from Southampton, down to the Azores, sea conditions turned decidedly choppy, stirred up by an increasingly strong north-westerly wind. Mrs PBT’s who's always boasted about the strength of her sea legs, and how she's spent numerous occasions on cross channel ferries, when there was only her and the chief steward still standing, at the bar and necking back the shots, found herself feeling under the weather. She wasn't physically sick, although, she felt queasy enough to have to lie down. Fortunately, the anti-seasickness tablets she brought with her, did the trick, but that episode rather set the scene on a number of other weather-related occasions during the voyage.

The night before we were due to call at our first destination – Praia da Vitoria, the main settlement on Terceira, the second largest island in the Azores, the captain warned that we might have difficulty in docking. The following morning his worst fears were confirmed and although he made a couple of attempts, including one that involved approaching the harbour from a different angle, his effects were to no avail, and we were forced to abandon our visit to that particular island. 

The ship carried onto San Miguel, the largest of the nine habitable islands that make up the Azores. We docked at the capital Ponta del Garda, shortly after 9pm, which was ten hours or so ahead of our scheduled arrival time.  By way of compensation, this did allow everyone who wished to disembark, to do so, and take a look around the town.Whilst tempted Mrs PBT's, protective as ever, wasn't keen for me to go wandering around on my own - something about pirates or press gangs! I’m exaggerating, and to be fair we discovered the following morning, that there weren’t many bars, or other places of refreshment, close to the seafront. However, I bet that an experienced pub man, like myself, could have found somewhere, especially after four days stuck at sea.  

Unfortunately, Praia da Vitoria wasn't the only port that we missed on the cruise, and once again adverse weather played a part. The second destination we missed was the Spanish city of Vigo, situated fairly close to the most northerly and most westerly point of the Iberian peninsula. Known to mariners, and weather watchers as Cape Finisterre, this is the point where the waters of the Bay of Biscay meet those of the north Atlantic, making this area one that is renowned for storms. Vigo was the final port of call on the cruise and was a destination we’d allocated to stock up on Spanish goodies, both for ourselves and for friends, family and work colleagues back home. We’d stopped at the city on a previous cruise, but as that day was a Sunday, the majority of shops were shut. Tuesday would be different, and as we’d previously clocked the location of Vigo’s main shopping area, sited within easy walking distance of the harbour.

As we sailed away the previous evening from the Portuguese port of Leixões – docking point for those wishing to visit Oporto, Eileen suggested we go up on deck, watch the sail away and listen to the captain's announcement. We were both slightly perturbed because there was a woman, who we’d bumped into a few times, who seemed intent on spreading doom and gloom (she worked a doctor’s receptionist, if that’s a clue to her character!). She’d heard, although she didn’t reveal the sourced of her information, that adverse weather was forecast and we might not be able to dock at Vigo. I didn't say to anything to her face, but after she’d left, I said to Eileen that she was talking absolute b*llocks.

I made that judgement in the light of the warm, bright, calm and sunny day we’d enjoyed at Leixões. Unfortunately, I was forced to eat my words, because once the ship’s captain had gone through the formalities of everyone being back on board and other stuff related to our departure, he mentioned the prospect of a severe storm that would impact on our schedule for the next few days. This was due to an area of deep low pressure that was moving up from the south, bringing with it strong winds and heavy rain. This could impact the next day’s departure from Vigo and leave us exposed off the coast of Cape Finisterre.

His plan was to miss out our final port (boo, hiss), and to head off, at high speed, towards Biscay, thereby remaining ahead of the storm. He added that the winds associated with this gathering low pressure area, might assist our progress north, and keep us clear of the worst effects of the storm. You can imagine this decision wasn’t universally popular, especially as it proved the harbinger of doom right, but onboard a ship, the captain’s word is final, as he or she is responsible for the safety and well-being of all on board – passengers, crew and even the ship itself. 

The next day I was travelling down in the lift with a group of other passengers, when the captain entered on the next floor. Someone asked him what progress we were making, and “Very good”, came the reply. He said that he felt vindicated in taking the position he had, especially as we were continuing to outrun the storm. He added that the strong fore winds associated with the depression, were helping the ship’s progress, and in effect we were steaming along partially for free, as the winds continued propelling us in the direction we wanted to go.

So, there we have it, two destinations missed due to poor weather conditions, but no adverse effects on the ship, passengers or crew. On the plus side those additional two sea days were just fine just for, reading, walking about the ship, attending a lecture or for just generally chilling out. As well as being quite bracing at times, the sea air can be surprisingly relaxing, and when tucked up in bed, in one’s cabin, the motion of the ship, as it rocks gently from side to side, has the effect of lulling one to sleep. Leaving our voyage until late October - early November was possibly asking for trouble, but you win some and you also lose some of the time as well. It was still a very relaxing and most enjoyable holiday, and at the end of the day, that’s all you can really wish for.

Fancy a day out?

Some of you might remember me talking about a trip by train, to a UK destination that I’ve never been to before. As I get older, the realisation that there are still many places in this fair isle of our that I’ve never been to, becomes increasingly apparent, and reaches the stage where it’s something I’m more and more aware of. But what to do about it? The answer, of course, is to travel a lot more, and take up opportunities, as and when they arise, then do something to improve the situation.

I’m lucky in having parents who were interested in visiting different parts of the UK, and from a relatively early age, mum and dad would take me and my sister on holiday. These weren’t luxury or exotic holidays, as growing up in a post-war Britain, hit by crippling debts (thank-you Uncle Sam!), plus the costs of rebuilding both damaged infrastructure and bombed out housing stock, meant there was precious little money to go round. For the record, I was born, just 10 years after the end of the most damaging and devastating conflict the world has ever known, but none of that registered to a child who started school in 1960.

Family holidays ranged from a stay at a holiday camp – not Butlin’s (or even Maplin’s, for fans of Hi-Di-Hi), but a camp of sorts – that bore an uncanny resemblance to Jo Maplin’s, situated on Hayling Island. Traveling by motorbike and sidecar, the journey from our home in Ashford, seemed to take an age. I’m also unsure how my parents found room in our already cramped mode of transport, for our luggage.

Fortunately, dad was able to afford a car for subsequent holidays, even though the vehicle he acquired was a converted Austin A35 van. Small matter, as this little workhorse became our passport to the exotic lands of East Anglia (Suffolk) in the main, and later, South Wales. From staying with my paternal grandparents in Suffolk, and then later, staying at various Welsh caravan sites – Pembrokeshire and the Gower, my sister and I became quite well travelled, compared to some of our contemporaries. As always, the journey was part of the adventure, and with a very rudimentary motorway network, and a jumble of narrow and often crowded A roads, getting to our holiday destination, was often as exciting as the holiday itself.

At the end of my Vth year at secondary school, I undertook my first overseas visit, a two week, “educational” cruise taking in Portugal, the Azores and Madeira.  Oddly enough, this is the very same voyage that Mrs PBT’s are about to embark on, although the accommodation will be rather different. That’s for another time, though. University afforded more opportunities for travel, both home-grown, as well as overseas, and the latter culminated in a month-long journey, by train, around western Europe, accompanied by a student friend.

Regardless of the foreign travel, I’ve also always looked for opportunities to visit places closer to home, and over the years I’ve been filling in some of the gaps. This has been a very gradual process, and it largely just happened, rather than being properly organised, let alone properly planned, but in recent years there has been the added attraction of beer and pubs. Actually, that’s not quite so recent, because visiting a different part of the UK, or even a different town or village, invariably provided the opportunity to try a different brew, in a pub or even a town that I’d never visited before.

Since before the pandemic – that unpleasant dividing line that still separates more recent events from the more carefree times of less than five years ago, and continuing into the present day, I’ve enjoyed some excellent days out, in the company of some equally fine beer and pub enthusiasts. So, with legendary topers, like Retired Martin, Stafford Paul, Pub Curmudgeon, plus several other beer and pub enthusiasts, I’ve enjoyed some fine, “Proper Days Out” in places as diverse as Birmingham, Bath, Sheffield, Manchester, Burton-on-Trent, Farnham, Black Country, and even a strange little town called Shifnal, that I’d never heard of before.

But now it’s my turn, and as hinted at the beginning of this post, I’ve arranged a day out for myself, plus anyone who’d like to, or is able to join me. The location I’ve chosen is the Devonshire town of Topsham, a settlement on the River Exe, a few miles to the south-east of Exeter. Some readers might remember me writing about Topsham and its classic locals’ pub, the Bridge Inn. My interest was sparked after reading “A Pub For All Seasons”, by Adrian Tierney-Jones.  Adrian is former British Beer Writer of the Year, and the Bridge Inn is one of his favourite pubs. The Bridge pops up several times in Adrian’s book, which is perhaps not surprising, seeing as the author lives in that area of Devon, but ever since reading his book, I’ve had an increasing longing to visit it.

Today, I bit the bullet and purchased an Advance Saver, return ticket to Topsham, that whilst on the dear side, was a considerable saving on the standard fare price. I shall be making the return journey on Friday 21^st November, and if anyone cares to join me, my train arrives in Topsham at 10:35 and departs at 17:09. Apart from the Bridge Inn, I am looking to visit two other pubs in the town, and these are the Passage House Inn (free house), and the Lighter Inn (Badger). Timings are based around the slightly old-fashioned hours of the Bridge Inn (12-2.30 & 5.30 – 9.30), but with the Passage House opening at 10am, and as with the Lighter, offering food, all day, there should be ample opportunity to visit all three.

If anyone fancies a day out on the south Devon coast, then please get in touch, via this blog. I appreciate that Beer & Pubs Forum members prefer Tapatalk, but it’s a rather strange app, and one that I’ve never really got on with. Cheer, Paul.