Old Family Brewers of Britain. Part Ten – Samuel Smiths of Tadcaster

Samuel Smith’s are the oldest brewery in Yorkshire and are the only surviving independent brewery in the famous brewing town of Tadcaster.  The company began brewing at the Old Brewery in 1758, and water drawn from the well 85 feet beneath the brewery, is still used to produce their beers today.

Traditional methods of brewing are very much to the fore at the Old Brewery, and the company prides itself on brewing beers from purely natural ingredients without the use of additives, adjuncts, artificial colourings or flavourings. The majority of the company’s beers are fermented in stone “Yorkshire squares”; fermenting vessels made of solid slabs of slate, which give the beers a fuller bodied taste. The same strain of yeast has been in use since the nineteenth century.

Samuel Smith’s still employ a cooper to make and repair the oak casks used for their naturally conditioned draught Old Brewery Bitter. As well as this renowned cask beer, the company produces a wide range of highly respected bottled beers; even reviving such brewing styles as Imperial Stout, Oatmeal Stout and Porter (Taddy Porter). Samuel Smiths have also received praise for the tasteful way in which they have renovated, or indeed restored, many of their pubs.

Although most Samuel Smith’s pubs are in Yorkshire, they have quite a sizeable tied estate in London. (Some of these pubs as well are prominent London landmarks, such as the Old Cheshire Cheese, the Cittie of Yorke and the Princess Louise).

Despite this emphasis on tradition, the company have never shied away from controversy and  in the mid 1990’s came under fire from CAMRA when they suddenly withdrew cask-conditioned, Old Brewery Bitter from the majority of their London pubs and replaced it with nitro-keg Sovereign Bitter. Sam’s stated that the reason for this withdrawal was that cask-conditioned beer does not “travel very well". At the same time they announced that the stronger Museum Ale was being discontinued. The latter beer had only appeared in the mid 1980’s, alongside the weaker Tadcaster Bitter, but neither received much promotion, and Tadcaster Bitter disappeared at the beginning of the 1990's.

The withdrawal of these beers left Old Brewery Bitter as the sole cask ale produced by the company; a situation which still persists today, but the irony is that despite the marketing which surrounds it, Old Brewery Bitter is not a particularly old brew. It was introduced in 1974, as the replacement for a range of beers sold under the "Taddy Ales" banner. At the same time Sam Smiths began re-signing their pubs with the White Rose of Yorkshire, and making great play of the fact that they were Yorkshire's oldest brewery.

Older drinkers will remember that for many years, Samuel Smith's used the brand name Ayingerbräu for its lagers and wheat beers. Bräuerei Aying is a family-run brewery situated in the Bavarian village of Aying; about 18 miles south of Munich.  The brand was best known in the UK for its "man-in-a-box" bar-top dispense mounting, used for Ayingerbräu Lager, which featured a model Bavarian man inside a plastic box.

In 2006 Ayingerbräu Lager reverted to being called, Alpine Lager; its original name from the 1960s. Production of both the Ayingerbräu D Pils and Prinz Lager brands also ceased. These have been replaced by Samuel Smith's Pure Brewed Lager.

Another change took place a few years earlier, when in 2000; Samuel Smith's began phasing out other branded products from its pubs, meaning that no large-corporation spirits or soft-drinks are available. The company took the “phasing out of brands exercise” a stage further by only selling their own Samuel Smith's Old Brewery branded crisps, nuts and pork scratchings in their pubs. 

In 2004, Sam’s took the decision to ban music in its pubs, which saves paying the fee demanded by the Performing Rights Society. Many customers irritated by “piped music”, welcomed the move.

Personal involvement

I have been a fan of Samuel Smith's, after stumbling upon one of their pubs during my second term at Salford University. This would have been in 1974, when I discovered that the Prince of Wales, in the Lower Broughton area of the city, served a very acceptable pint of Old Brewery Bitter

A couple of years later, I ended up renting a house almost within shouting distance of the Prince of  Wales, and spent many an evening in there enjoying the beer. As I later found out, from people who knew about such things, the beer in the POW was "bright" (filtered), rather than cask-conditioned. It was still very palatable, although as a member of CAMRA I would have preferred to have been drinking the "real thing".

I read at the time that whilst Sam’s refused to supply cask-conditioned beer to their tied estate west of the Pennines, they were quite happy to supply pubs in London with the genuine article. Towards the end of my stay in Manchester, the company relented, and slowly began re-introducing cask beer to selected pubs in the area. They even brought 4X Mild back in cask form, for a few years, at least.

When I moved back to Kent in 1980, Samuel Smith’s beers were a common sight in free-houses to the west of the county; but not long after they became confined to an area within the M25 motorway. Forty years later, OBB is rarely seen in Kentish pubs. I actually came across it more often in Norfolk during visits to the village where my parents retired to. With their large tied London estate, Sam's now only seem to supply their own pubs; possibly because of the extra work involved in looking after a beer which is solely supplied in wooden casks. There is also the problem of getting the expensive empty casks back as well.

I still really enjoy Old Brewery Biter and, when in London, I often make a point of calling in at the Chandos, close to Charing Cross station, for a final pint before catching the train home.

A couple of points to finish up on; first, I had commercial dealings with Samuel Smiths, just over a decade ago, when my wife and I had our off-licence in Tonbridge. We stocked the complete range of Sam’s bottles, and were very pleased with the service and help we received from the company. Although they would only supply mixed cases by the pallet load, this wasn’t a problem as the beers used to literally fly off the shelves.

Second, and a real bonus at the time, is the fact the company refuses to supply supermarkets and multiple-outlet off-licences. This was a major plus point for a small business, such as us, as it meant people had to come to buy their beers from our shop, rather than heading off to Sainsbury’s. Samuel Smith’s prices were also pretty keen as well.

Tonbridge Juddians Winter Beer Festival 2017

This weekend, our local rugby team, Tonbridge Juddians held their annual Winter Beer Festival. The event coincided with the start of the Six Nation’s Rugby Competition, so on Friday evening I headed down to TJ’s clubhouse, to check out what was going on.

I managed to avoid the rain that was being dumped on the country by “Storm Doris”, and after a brisk walk through the town, I arrived at the clubhouse just after 8pm. The festival was ticking over nicely, with just the right amount of people present to make for a comfortable experience. After picking up my £10 starter pack (souvenir glass, plus tokens) I headed straight for the bar, having already decided on what would be my first beer of the evening.

The beer in question was Hawkshead Windermere Pale 3.5%; a refreshing pale ale, which is full of hop character. I have drunk this beer before, so it was good to renew my acquaintance with it; especially as it had travelled such a long way.

The majority of the other beers were from sources much closer to home, with Sussex surprisingly taking the lead here. Strangely there was only one Kentish brewery represented (Pig & Porter), but I suspect this was because the organisers were looking for beers which are not normally available in the Tonbridge area.

With the first drink in my hand I set off to locate the contingent from my local CAMRA Branch, whom I knew would be there, thanks to a regular stream of WhatsApp messages. I soon found my friends sitting around a table, close to the clubhouse bar. Some of them had been here since opening time at 5pm.

I spent the rest of the evening chatting to both them and the festival organiser, Gary and Chris, who selected and sourced the beers. Chris said that, as I suspected, he was after something different but had tried to provide as interesting a mix of beers as possible. With Magic Rock from Buxton, Black Jack from Manchester and the aforementioned Hawkshead from the Lake District, Chris had certainly pulled this off.

In total there were 24 beers available, all priced at one token per half-pint regardless of strength; other festival organisers, including our own Spa Valley Railway event, please take note and copy! There were also six ciders, sourced from Devon, Glamorgan, Herefordshire and Somerset.

There were no Kentish ciders, or indeed other local ciders in the selection. I don't know whether or not this was deliberate, but the cider bar manager explained to me the difference between ciders made in the Eastern Counties; where the tradition is to use of culinary and dessert apples, as opposed to the "bitter-sweet" apples favoured by West Country cider producers. It is claimed that the latter type of apples produce a drink which is better balanced and with a greater depth of flavour, but not being that much of a cider connoisseur I don't know how true this is.

As well as the above mentioned people, I also bumped into a couple of near neighbours; hardly surprising considering the popularity of this annual festival. As well as the beers from Magic Rock and Hawkshead, I also enjoyed offerings from Sussex brewers, Burning Sky, 360°, Downlands and Gun. The latter, somewhat controversially, do not fine their beers, meaning they are naturally hazy; although by virtue of being un-fined they are also suitable for vegans.

I got chatting to a festival-goer about this issue. The individual concerned is an experienced home-brewer, of many years standing. He confirmed, what I have long known, that all beers will eventually clear on their own accord, but because of the need for beers to clear quickly in normal trade situations, finings are essential. He also agreed with me that suspended yeast can impart an unpleasant harshness to the beer, which would not be present if the beer was bright.

The home-brewer went on to say that specialist beer outlets apart, producers of un-fined beer would struggle to sell their beers in the vast majority of the traditional pub-trade. A handful of beer writers have argued to the contrary. For example, writer and blogger Matthew Curtis has claimed, on his Total Ales site that “exceptionally hazy pale ales”, which are “turbid to the point of resembling a glass of milk”, are the way forward. He states it is the mouth-feel, derived from the protein, yeast and hop compounds, which make up the haze, which makes these beers stand out.

The people who are driving this are, of course, the Americans; the same people who brought us "Black IPA's". We are getting somewhat off topic here, as things which might appeal to American beer geeks are, realistically, never going to become mainstream; and a good job too, as a haze in a beer can be used as an excuse to cover a multitude of sins.

Back to the real world, and TJ’s Festival. It was a good all-round event and although I only spent the one evening there, I enjoyed myself immensely. The beer of the festival, for me, was definitely Burning Sky Porter which, despite weighing in at just 4.8% ABV, packed in bundles of flavour. It was so good that I broke my usual beer festival practice of not drinking the same beer twice in a session!

St Andrew's Brew House - Norwich

It’s surprising that given the number of trips I’ve made up to Norfolk (certainly during the past decade), that I’ve made very few visits to the county town of Norwich. Even more telling is that apart from very recently, most of the forays I have made into the city have been by car, leaving precious little opportunity for exploring Norwich’s many pubs. Given the city’s rich heritage of pubs, and the wide variety of beers available – post Watney’s, this is a shame, and a situation that was only rectified three years ago, when I attended the 2013 CAMRA Members’ Weekend (AGM), which was held in Norwich, with the conference proceedings taking place in the historic setting of the adjoined St Andrews and Blackfriars Halls.

Last weekend’s visit to Norfolk, primarily to visit my father, saw son Matthew and I staying at a hotel on the outskirts of Norwich, which meant we were able to spend an afternoon and evening in the city, and also return to a location opposite St Andrews and Blackfriars Halls.

We had walked passed St Andrew’s Brew House, last November, whilst on a previous trip into Norwich. On that occasion we had foolishly travelled into the city by car; something I strongly advise against doing on a Saturday afternoon. After sitting in traffic and hunting round for a parking spot, we had eventually found a place slightly outside of the city centre, and had noticed this relatively new (2015) establishment on our walk into central Norwich.

There wasn’t time to call in, on that occasion, but I had made a mental note and was determined to check the place out on our next visit. This time we wisely took the bus into Norwich, and with a special weekend “group return” ticket available for the bargain price of just £5 for the two of us, this really was the sensible way to travel. To start with we did a bit of a tour of Norwich’s two shopping centres (Chapel Field and Castle Mall); Matthew is something of a shopaholic, but then he does work in retail.

We had a brief look around the city afterwards, pausing to admire the impressive bulk of the 13^th Century keep, which is all that remains of Norwich Castle. We eventually made our way down towards St Andrew’s Hall, but not before stopping for a quick look at the menu displayed outside the Belgian Monk; a Belgian inspired restaurant-cum-pub tucked away at the top of the hill, in Pottergate.

St Andrew’s Brew House occupies a prominent corner position, with the main bar area facing the busy St Andrew’s Street, whilst the restaurant section looks out across the pedestrianised area in front of the two halls. Both sections of the establishment have windows of clear glass, enabling potential customers to see what is going on inside, and how busy the place is.

The bar was busy, but not horrendously so, which meant we were served more or less straight away. There were four hand-pumped, house-brewed beers on offer, plus a couple of keg beers. The brewing kit was clearly visible behind a glass screen, to the far left of the bar. I went for the  4.6% IPA to start with, whilst Matthew opted for a pint of Amstel – some people have no taste!

After being served, we moved away from the bar, and headed round the corner towards the restaurant section, where a sign asked people to wait in order to be seated. Although this section seemed busy with diners, a pleasant young waitress found us a table for two, on the proviso we would vacate it by 7pm. As the time was only just after 5 o’clock I told her this would not be a problem. We sat ourselves down in the raised area towards the back, and studied the menu.

A "proper" pie

The homemade beef and ale pie caught my eye, as it did Matthew’s, but hedging my bets on the chance that this menu choice might not be a “proper pie”, I also marked the haddock and chips as my second choice. Fortunately the waitress allayed my fears as she knew exactly what I was refereeing to when I enquired if the pie was indeed “proper”. Yes it was, and it came highly recommended. This was good enough for me, and we placed our order. I went for mash potato with mine, whilst Matthew went for chips.

The pie was indeed excellent, being filling, hearty and satisfying, and good food called for another beer. This time I opted for the smooth and dark Porter, which at 4.8% ABV was an excellent accompaniment to my meal. We sat there finishing off our drinks, watching the various comings and goings, before departing, as agreed, some time before 7pm. 

I have to say I was very impressed with what we found at St Andrew’s Brew House. The beer and food, together with the knowledge and enthusiasm of the staff were second to none, and I will definitely be making a return visit.

Do small rural pubs have a future?

The lack of a car park doesn't help

At the risk of sounding boring and focused solely on a single topic, I want to mention the Greyhound again. I am doing this partly because I promised to reveal more about some issues which might prevent the pub from ever reopening, but also because some of these points could equally apply to other threatened rural pubs. I walked passed the now sadly closed pub this lunchtime. It hasn’t been boarded up yet, but I suspect it will only be a matter of time before this happens.

So what future, if any, is there for the Greyhound? Well, as mentioned in a previous article, a group of concerned local residents have applied to have the pub listed as an ACV (Asset of Community Value). The result of this application should be known by the third week of February, but having ACV listing provides no firm guarantees that the building will continue as a pub; it just makes it a little harder for a potential purchaser to succeed in obtaining permission for “change of use”.

A garden definitely helps

There are a couple of factors which I know have already persuaded two potential investors, to not go through with buying the pub as a going concern. The first is that, somewhat unusually for a rural pub, the Greyhound does not have a garden. 

There is a strip of land to the left of the pub, which is used as a beer garden, but it actually belongs to the property behind, and is currently leased to the pub. Whether this arrangement would continue, if the pub was to acquire new owners, is uncertain, and there are no guarantees that it will.

The second and rather more serious concern is the pub has no car-park. It is possible to park on the road, either side of the pub, and even opposite, whilst still leaving room for cars to pass, but the number of spaces is limited, and too many cars parking along the lane could lead to complaints from local residents. This is a serious handicap for a country pub which relies on people arriving by car, for the bulk of its trade.

Of course, both factors could also weigh against conversion to a private dwelling, as most people who move to the country, desire a garden of some sorts; and most would also want off-road parking. The alternative would be to convert the pub into two separate dwellings, but even then both a garden and off-road parking are desirable features; if not essential.

Whatever the effect of the lack of these amenities, there is no future for the pub as a “wet-sales” only establishment. I know roughly what Larkin’s were taking each week, and I suspect that it barely covered the rent. It is therefore essential that a re-opened Greyhound offers food. The pub was doing this before it closed last summer, and often when I walked by on my lunchtime constitutional, I could see people inside getting tucked to a meal. I can’t, of course, advise as to how busy the pub was in the evening, but I think it must have been ticking over ok.

At the moment then, it remains very much a case of “wait and see”, but the fact that Larkin’s had been asked to terminate their temporary lease, does indicate that someone has made a firm offer for the Greyhound.

So does a good beer range - providing the turnover is there!

The thing which emerges from all this is that rural pubs, of the type I remember drinking in whilst coming of age, have virtually disappeared. Larkin’s valiant attempt to prove otherwise, during their brief tenancy of the Greyhound, unfortunately failed. More than ever, country pubs need to offer food, and good food at that; food which people are prepared to travel for, in order to enjoy. 

Some rural pubs also manage to stock a good range of local, and sometimes hard to get beers, on top of their food offer. Such places become “destination pubs”; places which discerning drinkers (and diners) are prepared to seek out and make the effort to travel to. The Windmill, at Sevenoaks Weald is one such pub which springs to mind, but there are quite a few others, not just in this region, but all over the county. 

Local beer enthusiasts soon get to know these places, and actively seek them out, so the future is definitely not all bad for rural pubs. Some of them just need to up their game a bit.

Apricity and last orders at the Greyhound

In a previous post I mentioned the sad closure of the Greyhound at Charcott. At the moment we don’t know whether this is a temporary situation, or a permanent one. I will be examining the options regarding the pub’s future in a later post, but for now I want to focus on the Greyhound’s last day and the part played in it by my local CAMRA branch.

The Greyhound’s farewell party took place last Saturday evening. As there would be a lot of clearing up to do, not just after the party but because Larkin’s were due to surrender their short-term lease on the pub, James the landlord agreed to host one final session at lunchtime, the following day. This was primarily to allow local CAMRA to say farewell to the pub, but also to give those local drinkers who were unable to attend the night before, the chance for a few final drinks.

A nice country retreat

James told us the pub would be open from midday to around 4pm, which fitted in nicely with people’s travel plans. An hourly train service on the Tonbridge – Redhill line would allow members to alight at Penshurst, and then take a 15-20 minute walk to Charcott, by means of a tarmac path which crosses the old (WWII) Penshurst Airfield. The more active amongst us decided to walk from Leigh, a village which is one stop back along the line in the direction of Tonbridge.

So on a freezing cold day, made bearable by some very welcome and pleasing hazy sunshine, three of us caught the 11.36 train over from Tonbridge in readiness for our walk. We met up with the fourth member of the walking party, who happens to live in Leigh, and then headed up towards the parish church, and then through the church-yard.

The mysterious "shoe tree"

I pass through Leigh twice a day, on my drive to and from work, but in over 10 years of doing so, this was the first time I’d visited the church-yard. The church stands on higher ground than the rest of the village, and I’m certain there are reasons why the original builders chose this location. Leigh is what is known as an “estate village”, in so much that the village centre was re-modelled by the family of landed gentry who owned much of it. The latter lived at Hall Place, a stately pile which we would be circumventing on our route to Charcott. Hall Place was rebuilt, to its current design in 1872, and many of the handsome looking, Victorian properties in the village date from the same period.

The sun was shining, and there was not a cloud in the sky as we passed out from the church-yard, and took the footpath in front of one of the ornate gatehouses which forms the boundary to the Hall Place estate. We passed several groups of walkers heading in the opposite direction; mainly people out with their dogs.

Hale Place itself was largely invisible; hidden behind a row of trees, but also partly obscured by the hazy sunshine, and the footpath we were following also took us around the edge of a wood, but eventually we passed out into open countryside, pausing en route for a look at Leigh Park Farm, with its associated oast houses and waterside setting.

Entrance to a Cold War nuclear bunker

The final section of the walk was along a road, but fortunately one which doesn’t receive that much traffic. Before reaching the pub, we decide to make a brief detour for a look at the mysterious “shoe tree”; a tree with a number of pairs of shoes and boots hanging from its branches. No-one seems to know the purpose or significance (benign or sinister) of this; not even the locals.

We also bumped into a person carrying out some restoration work on a former nuclear bunker, close to the junction. It turned out he was a volunteer, belonging to a preservation group which had bought the bunker, when they were all sold off by the M.O.D. at the end of the Cold War. I took a few photos, including one looking down the quite deep entrance shaft. I’m not sure that I fancied climbing down there, but fortunately we weren’t offered the opportunity; besides the pub was now close by and we were wasting valuable drinking time.

Apricity

When we arrived at the Greyhound, we found the rest of the CAMRA party standing outside waiting for us. Apparently there had been a problem with the smoke alarm which kept going off, so it was lucky that it was warm enough to sit outside (still with coats on, of course). This was “Apricity”!  The pub had been drunk dry the night before, so James had been along to Larkin’s to pick up a polypin of Traditional Ale. Many of us had brought a packed lunch, so we sat outside eating our lunch, whilst enjoying both the beer and the sunshine in equal quantities.

Lunch anyone?

There were about a dozen of us from CAMRA, and probably half that number who were either locals or casual visitors. The restoration enthusiast from the bunker also came along.  By this time James had sorted out the smoke alarm, so as the sun slowly began to sink in the sky, we moved indoors. The fire had also been lit, and this gave a nice welcoming touch. 

It wasn’t too long before the polypin ran out, so James drove the short distance to the brewery to pick up another. The beer in the second one was icy cold, which rather slowed down the rate of drinking, but I still managed to sink four pints.  As Larkin’s Trad has an ABV of just 3.4%, the four pints had very little effect on me. As a few other people remarked, it would have been nice to have found either Larkin’s Best or their Porter on sale, but under the circumstances we were probably fortunate with what we had.

Last Orders

We left around 3.40pm and walked back across the old airfield in order to catch the train back from Penshurst station. Before leaving we said goodbye to James, and wished him well for the future. The new polypin looked as though it was close to running out as we departed, but whilst it had been a good day, we left with a distinct feeling of sadness. Would we ever enjoy a glass of beer in the Greyhound again? Or was this the last farewell?  Who knows, but in the words of Fairport Convention “Time will show the wiser.”

Apricity : the warmth of the sun in winter.

Interrail 1975 Part Three - Croatia & Italy

The previous instalment of this narrative about my 1975 trip round Europe trip, by rail, saw me and my travelling companion Nick, reunited on the platform, at Stuttgart railway station. We then continued our journey south, into warmer climes and fresh vistas. 

Our rail journey from Stuttgart, took us through Munich and Salzburg and then up across the Alps. Unfortunately dusk was approaching as our train climbed up into the mountains and so we missed some of the most of the spectacular scenery of the whole trip. I remember us having to change trains at a junction, high up in the mountains above the small town of Bad Gastein, and spending time chatting to a local Austrian family whilst waiting for our train to arrive.

Ljubljana, now the capital of an independent Slovenia, but then part of Yugoslavia, was our next stop, followed by a halt in the Croatian capital Zagreb. We then took a train heading south towards the Dalmatian Coast, passing through the mountains which form a barrier between the inland plains and the sea. The mountains consisted largely of bare limestone, with the occasional scrub and small trees, and the journey seemed to take an age. It was also very hot in the train, especially when it kept stopping to allow a train travelling in the opposite direction to pass.

Diocletian's Palace 1975 - Split, Croatia

Our destination was the Croatian city of Split; "not a hippy phrase for departing", as Nick kept pointing out! This was to be our base for the next few days, and was also our first chance to try out the tent. 

During the initial planning of our trip, our aim had been to visit Dubrovnik; that pearl of the Adriatic which was then only just being re-discovered by western tourists, but with no trains running to the city, and with no idea of local bus services, we opted for Split instead. Split, with its setting on Croatia’s Dalmatian Coast, was a delight on the eyes, and we soon discovered there was a campsite on the edge of the old town, on a semi-wooded hilltop, over-looking the sea. With our tent pitched for the first time on the trip, this was now the perfect opportunity for a spot of serious relaxing.

There was a regular bus service into town, but even better was a coastal path along the rocky shoreline, which ran from just below the campsite. The waters were crystal clear and perfect for snorkelling. Nick had brought some snorkelling equipment with him, which he allowed me to share on occasion.

The main tourist attraction in Split was the ruined palace of the Roman Emperor, Diocletian. This was right in the heart of the old town, and I remember it also housed a farmer’s market, where we could buy to fresh produce. From memory, there was also a café-cum-bar nearby, which sold a very acceptable drop of locally-brewed beer. I have no idea of the name of the beer, and can’t remember whether it was bottled or draught (probably the former). Nick and I just knew it as "Pivo"; the only  Serbo-Croat word we managed to learn!

We spent a couple of days in Split, but then, purely on a whim, we decided to take a ferry across to the island of Hvar; one of several large islands which lie off this stretch of coast. After landing at Hvar Town, we then took a rather hair-raising bus journey across the island, to the port of Stari Grad. We again found a camp site, although I’m pretty certain we only stayed one night.

Stari Grad claims to be one of the oldest towns in Croatia, and has its own attractive, natural harbour. I remember us walking along the shaded road, on the opposite side to the quay, and finding some rocks to sunbathe on, and also to launch ourselves into the crystal clear water for a spot of snorkelling. During the evening, we visited a café, overlooking the harbour, where some kind of special occasion was being celebrated. So far as we could make out, it was the Marshall Tito’s birthday; although we weren’t 100% certain of this. Again, the local Pivo was good and incredibly cheap; so it was a good evening.

Arriving back on the mainland, we spent one last night in Split, but as it was just for a single night, we didn’t bother pitching the tent. This was the first, and still the only time I have ever slept out under the stars, and I have to say it was a strange experience. It seems crazy that without the “protection” afforded by just a few millimetres of canvas, I felt somewhat vulnerable and exposed, but once I got use to it, the cool night air, with the scent of the pine trees and the clicking of the cicadas, was enough to lull me into a deep and restful sleep.

After “chilling out” in Yugoslavia, it was time to get back on the rails and undertake some serious train travelling. Our journey took us in a roughly easterly direction towards Italy, crossing the border close to Trieste; a city which had several rulers during the 20^th Century, including Austria-Hungary, Italy, Yugoslavia and finally Italy again.

Out itinerary didn’t allow for a stopover, as we continued our journey into northern Italy and around the coast to Venice. We had a day earmarked for sight-seeing there, and our anticipation grew as the train rumbled across the lagoon via the causeway which links the city with the mainland. As we alighted from the train we soon realised the high temperatures were not conducive to traipsing the city streets, but we did our best. The photo of me below, taken in St Mark’s Square, gives some idea of just how hot it was, but we trudged on passed the Doge’s Palace and then across the Rialto Bridge, slowly making our way back towards the station.

Yours truly, in that hat again!- Piazza Marco, Venice

Venice in a day is not to be recommended but, however briefly, I’m glad we experienced the city when we did, as I gather it is now seriously overrun with tourists. Our overall impression was that the city was slowly crumbling away, and sinking into its many canals; but I suspect Venice has given that impression for decades, if not centuries. We boarded an early evening train, heading across Italy to Milan, relaxing in the splendour of our ornate, wood-panelled compartment. It must have been around midnight that we changed trains in Milan, taking one which was heading into France and along the French Riviera to Marseille.

We awoke to a view of the Mediterranean out of the left-hand window, but soon realised this was the direction the sun was coming from. I’m not sure what time we arrived in the bustling port of Marseille, but I’m pretty certain our time was limited. For this reason, Nick left me guarding the luggage, whilst he rushed off in search of provisions and more bottled water.

I stood on the steps of the station, fascinated by the comings and goings in this most cosmopolitan of all French cities. When my companion returned, we boarded another train, again heading west; this time in the direction of the French-Spanish border. 

So Croatia apart, there was not much opportunity for beer on this leg of our trip. Spain proved a little different as I will recall in the fourth and final instalment of my travelogue.

Greyhound closes

Regular readers will be aware that I have been keeping a close eye on a pub which has been under threat of closure since last summer. The Greyhound, a tucked away pub in the tiny hamlet of Charcott, is just a 10 minute walk from my workplace, and is a very pleasant late-Victorian country pub.

The Greyhound had been up for sale for the past two years, and the people responsible are our old friends Enterprise Inns. Last summer the landlord and his wife moved onto pastures new after struggling, and failing, to sell on the lease, but fortunately local brewers Larkin’s, stepped into the breach, and took on the lease; albeit on a temporary basis.

Since that time, I have posted a number of regular updates of how the pub’s been doing, but sadly, I now have to report, the Greyhound closed at the weekend; possibly for good. The reason for the closure is Enterprise Inns, have found a buyer for the pub. Details are pretty sketchy at present, but the obvious concern is that the pub will be converted to residential use, thus depriving local residents of their only pub.

The closure was officially marked by a party, held on Saturday night, but given the Greyhound’s isolated position, Larkin’s, in conjunction with James the outgoing temporary landlord, agreed to open the pub, on  Sunday lunchtime, specially for local CAMRA members and friends. This really was people’s last chance to enjoy a few pints at this attractive rural pub; certainly under its present custodians, and possibly for ever. 

A full report will follow in due course; including a description of the interesting and scenic walk to the pub, made by a group of us. In the meantime, I just wanted to let people know the Greyhound is currently closed; its fate unknown, but local residents, in conjunction with CAMRA, submitted an application for ACV listing to the local council, prior to Christmas, and the outcome of this will be made public next month.