A coffee shop, a beer shop, two pubs, three pints and five buses - Part Two

You left me back in Tunbridge Wells, having just alighted from the 256 bus back from Hook Green. It was just after 2.15pm and I was under strict instructions from Mrs PBT’s not to be back too early and interrupt her afternoon’s TV viewing. That was fine by me, and I needed no more in the way of encouragement to find another pub.

First, I needed to get shot of some excess beer, as despite making use of the Elephant Head’s facilities just before leaving, I arrived back in town in need of another pee. Something to do with my age, possibly? It was only a short hop to the Royal Victoria Place, Tunbridge Wells’ main shopping centre, where not only could find relief, but I could also grab a coffee.

On the way, I passed the Cotswold Outdoors Store where, last April, I had purchased my new hiking boots. I noticed the store had ceased trading, which tied in with what some of the old girls on the bus had been saying, on the outward journey. It always pays to keep one’s eyes and ears open, as you never know what snippet of useful information you might pick up!

Cotswold being closed was rather sad really, as I’d made a point of choosing and purchasing my boots in their store, especially as they offered a fitting service. This is important when choosing footwear that will cushion your foot when crossing rough terrain, keep your feet dry and support your ankle, as you want all these features, combined with comfort as well. If you are prepared to splash out a couple of hundred pounds, to obtain this, then you really should not only try before you buy but get some expert advice and help with the fitting as well.

Moving swiftly on, the Royal Victoria Place has had something of a makeover and was looking quite smart. Unfortunately, looking your best still doesn’t make up for the lack of shops, and the centre has never really got over the loss of BHS. Top Shop was also empty, not that I was ever a fan of their over-priced and ultra, slim fit clothes. Perhaps if they’d stocked clothes for more normal sized people, they might still be trading, but as I’m not a fashionista, I don’t really know.

Coffee proved hard to come by too, as the food hall, right on the lowest floor, hasn’t opened post-pandemic, and in addition, the company that owns the Central Market, in Ely Court, has gone into administration.  Undeterred, I left the RVP at the Camden Road exit, and more or less straight away, spied a coffee shop. The Australian owned and run Black Dog proved just the ticket, particularly as I much prefer independent cafés to those operated by the large chains.

The place was pretty crowded, so after requesting a flat-white to takeaway, I sat outside on one of the benches, soaking up the sun whilst watching the world go by. Whilst enjoying my tasty and freshly brewed coffee, I glanced up and noticed, through the glare of the sunshine, Fuggles recently opened Bottle Shop. This was my next planned port of call, and I was pleasantly surprised to find it at the top end of Camden Road, rather than where I’d expected it to be – at other end.

So, pleased to have saved myself an unnecessary walk, I popped inside. As expected, I found a well-stocked shop with an excellent selection of beers, including some to take away on draft.

The latter are dispensed into returnable PET bottles, either one or two litres, but it was bottled beer I was after and some German ones at that! I treated myself to five different bottles, which was as much as I could fit into my rucksack.

My selection included the rare smoked Bock bier from Schlenkerla in Bamberg. This 8.0% Rauchbier is brewed from malt that has been kilned over oak logs, rather than the usual beech ones. The oak is said to impart a unique flavour to the malt. I tried the beer once, on draft and in Bamberg itself, but that was over a decade ago.   Also on the list was the more usual Schlenkerla Märzen, a winter bier from Höfbräu of Munich, a pilsner from Tegernsee – the brewery by the lake, and Rothaus Pils – a beer that is highly recommended by legendary landlord and now, occasional blogger, Jeff Bell aka “Stonch.”

After a brief chat with the young gentleman in charge of the Bottle Shop and complementing him on the selection and presentation of the beers, I headed along to my final port of call. This was the Royal Oak, an attractive looking town pub, with a history and heritage longer than is initially apparent. Just over five minutes’ walk from the Calverley Road shops, and around 10 minutes’ walk from the main railway station, the Oak offers a carefully chosen selection of mainly locally sourced beers, alongside a number of craft beers and ciders. Good, solid pub food is also available Wednesdays to Sundays.

The pub’s current licensee is a former chairman of West Kent CAMRA, and since taking over the ownership and running of the Royal Oak in 2016, he has carried out a number of improvements, and turned it into a successful and thriving community local. To my shame, I hadn’t been to the Royal Oak for quite a few years; an omission that predates the start of the pandemic, so my visit was long overdue.

I arrived at the Oak, just after 3pm. There were a couple of builder types standing at the bar, towards the rear of the pub, who were later joined by another tradesman accompanied by an enormous dog. Four cask ales were on offer, including XPA from Five Points Brewing and Golden Rule from Tonbridge Brewery. My eyes were drawn though to one of my favourite dark ales- Harvey’s XXXX Old Ale.

Having missed its presence at the Elephants Head, I was especially glad to see it on sale at the Royal Oak. I ordered myself a pint, and retreated to a corner opposite the bar, to enjoy the Old, and observe the goings on in the rest of the pub. One observation that never ceases to amaze, and also disappoint me, is the lager drinkers who choose a well-known international brand, over a quality brew with a real pedigree. In this case, it was the tradesmen knocking back pints of San Miguel in preference to the excellent Hofmeister – now a proper German Helles, brewed in the heart of Bavaria.

The power of mass-advertising, I suppose, but also the age-old fear of trying something different and unfamiliar. It also seemed sad that I was the only person drinking the cask, but it was early days as the pub hadn’t been open that long. Tempted as I was to double the Oak’s cask sales that afternoon, I decided it was time to make tracks, and take the bus home. Thanks to my Arriva app, I discovered there was a No. 7 bus back to Tonbridge, departing at 16.30.

I drank up and made my way along to Grosvenor Road, under the impression I had managed to avoid the plague carriers school kids that Mrs PBT’s had told me to be wary of. Unfortunately, the school day must have been lengthened, to allow the precious darlings scholars, the chance to catch up with their studies, following the various lock-downs. This meant the bus was rather crowded, something not helped by it being a single deck vehicle, rather than a double-decker.

I wasn’t overly concerned as the window were open, and most passengers were masked, and if anything, it reminded me of pre-pandemic days. I didn’t tell Mrs PBT’s when I arrived home, as she worries about these things, and more importantly, I didn’t want her to curtail these trips out by bus that I have been making recently.

As for the title of these two posts, the day involved me visiting one coffee shop and one beer shop. I spent time in two pubs and drank a total of three pints of beer. Finally, I used five different buses to get from my home to Hook Green and back again, stopping off at Tunbridge Wells in between. There are plenty more interesting pubs to visit, by bus, which means lots more adventures to describe.

A coffee shop, a beer shop, two pubs, three pints and five buses - Part One

Fridays carefully scheduled trip out to the Kent-Sussex border, went according to plan, on a mid-January day that was blessed with to wall-to-wall sunshine. The plan had been to spend some time as the rarely visited Elephant’s Head, in the tiny hamlet of Hook Green.

This lovely old country pub that dates from the 15^th Century, is difficult to reach without a car, but after driving there a couple of months ago, I came up with a plan to get there using public transport. Everything hinged around the 256 bus, which operates a limited service between Tunbridge Wells and Wadhurst. Research indicated that getting to Hook Green by bus was quite feasible, but was it possible to visit any other pubs along the route?

As it happened, the answer was yes, so I looked at perhaps first spending some time at the Old Vine, in Cousley Wood; an attractive but rather upmarket pub close to Bewl Water, between the villages of Lamberhurst and Wadhurst. There were various options, one of which was to take the 256 bus from Tunbridge Wells to Cousley Wood, spend 75 minutes at the Old Vine, before catching the next bus to Hook Green.

This would have worked but, as it entailed spending three and a half hours at the Elephant’s Head, I decided that would be rather too long to spend on my own in the pub. It would have been fine with a friend for company, or as part of a group, but was too long a period with no one to talk to, apart from perhaps the bar staff.

Another possibility was to take the next 256 service to Wadhurst, and then walk the mile and a half down the hill, to the Wadhurst station, and the train back to Tonbridge. This would only have knocked 30 minutes off the time in the Elephant’s Head, so I reluctantly ditched that particular plan, until I can persuade a group of friends to join me on a visit to the two pubs.

My outward journey to Hook Green, involved three buses – two to get to Tunbridge Wells, and then the aforementioned No. 256. To get all geeky for a moment, the first two buses were operated by Arriva, who are the major service provider in mid and west Kent. The bus out, into the sticks, was provided by Autocar, an independent operator.

I boarded the bus at the War Memorial in Tunbridge Wells, allowing a rather boisterous group of old girls to get on first. They were obviously regulars on this service, as was the driver, whom they seemed to know by name. The bus also picked up some more shoppers, from outside the town’s main Sainsbury’s, on the site of the old West Station. We then headed out towards Frant and Bells Yew Green, where the majority of this lively group got off.

A lengthy stretch of largely straight road then followed. Its official name is Bayham Road, but it is known locally as the "Bayham Straight." Back in the early 90’s, when I worked in Lamberhurst at Crown Chemicals, it was a favourite stretch of road with some of the boy racers, who worked in the production department. Thankfully I never accepted a lift from any of those petrol heads, although to be fair, I don’t recall any of them being involved in an accident, despite their “need for speed!”

The majority of the Bayham Straight is through woodland, and on the return journey I noticed through the trees, a large group of deer, grazing in a clearing. Their presence was another reminder of the folly of speeding along rural roads.

As the bus emerged from the trees, I could see the Elephants Head, straight ahead, and just to the right of the road. It was time to push the bell and get the driver to stop. There is an official stop, on both sides of the road, (Clay Hill Road), a hundred yards or so from the pub, so after thanking the driver and stepping off the bus, I crossed the road and made my way towards it. The pub didn’t open until midday, so with 20 minutes to kill, I went for short walk along the nearby Free Heath Road. This was part of the route some friends and I had walked along, from Wadhurst station, on a previous visit to the Elephants Head, eleven years previously.

Making my back to the pub, I heard the sound of the door being unlocked, and despite me not liking to be the first person through the door after opening, I stepped inside. After the bright sunlight outside, it seemed quite dingy as I entered the bar, although my eyes quickly adjusted to the dimly lit surroundings. I was the first customer, but despite my initial hesitance was greeted with a friendly welcome by the young girl behind the bar.

Although Harvey’s Best and Old Ale had been the beers on my previous visit, at the beginning of December, the latter was not on tap on this occasion, but fortunately Sussex Best was available. I ordered myself a pint, had a brief chat with the barmaid, which was mainly along the lines that I wasn’t planning to dine at the pub that lunchtime.

I grabbed my pint and walked over to the “snug” area at the far right of the pub from where, partially hidden behind the fireplace and chimney stack, I could witness the various comings and goings. Not long after, the barmaid came over and started setting one of the tables up for dining. I asked whether the area I was sat in was reserved, but only one of the tables had been booked. She told me that particular snug area was popular with diners, so I said that regardless of bookings, I would move.

My reason for moving was simple; it was a little chilly in the snug, whereas nearer to the bar, the landlord had got the fire going, and it was blazing away nicely in the unusual, raised grate. There’s something quite hypnotic in staring at an open fire – we’ve got one at home, in the form of a log burner, although Mrs PBT’s seems reluctant to light it – something to do with “hot flushes!”

Another pint was called for – Sussex Best again, and meanwhile the number of customers in the pub, had started to increase. First there was the two “ladies that lunch,” followed by two separate couples. This did lead to a couple more pints of Best being pulled, although with a shortage of serious beer drinkers, I can see why the second Harvey’s cask offering had been dropped.

Sitting on my own in that small middle section, close to the fire and the bar counter, I could see clear evidence that this part of the Elephant’s Head, was probably the least altered. I shan’t repeat what I wrote about the pub’s history, in the previous article, and based on the memory of that first visit, 40 years ago, it’s difficult to remember the layout of the interior, back when it belonged to the Bayham Estate. The floor though, is one or worn bricks, unlike the newer-looking timber floor in the main part of the pub. Likewise, the planked, construction of the bar counter appears far more original than the main brick-built one to the right.

Leaving these thoughts aside, it was time to finish my pint, get my coat on, and head back out to the bus stop. I allowed plenty of time just in case the bus was running ahead of time, but as it happened it was more or less on schedule – much to my relief. Apart from me, there was only one other passenger on board the bus, but that didn’t distract from the journey back to Tunbridge Wells.

I alighted at the top of the town. It was 2.10pm and there was another pub to visit, along with a planned call in at Fuggles new bottle shop. First there was the more pressing requirement for a pee, plus a cup of coffee, so I will detail the rest of the afternoon in the next post.

 

Dry January risks drying up the pub trade altogether

I said in an earlier post that I wasn’t going to write about Dry January, and I’m going to stick with that, but only so far. This is because that whilst I’m not going to tackle the topic head-on – having done so several times in the past, I am going to write about the disastrous effects that well-meaning, but mis-guided gestures such as giving up the booze for the first month of the year, have on the licensed trade.

I was prompted to write this article following a post by avid Good Beer Guide pub ticker, Retired Martin who, last week, found himself the sole customer, in not just one, but two Berkshire pubs. Whilst Martin undoubtedly visits a lot more pubs than I do, his findings make for depressing reading, especially as they come hot on the heels of a depressed festive season.

We all know that the nation’s pubs and bars were hit by a wave of cancellations and “no shows” in the run-up to Christmas, a situation helped in no small manner by a whispering campaign, deliberately designed to deter drinkers and diners from going out and mixing with other people. The country’s Chief Medical Officer was one person behind this, but as he who looks like the sort of person who’s never had a day of fun in his entire life, this isn’t perhaps surprising.

With Christmas behind us, Dry January is hitting pubs and clubs hard, so much so that some members of the licensed trade are suggesting that Alcohol Concern, the charity behind this abstinence campaign, should find a better way to raise money without hitting local businesses. But with reports suggesting that over five million people in the UK will be going without a drink during January, this virtuous, “look at me” stance is having a disastrous effects on an already struggling hospitality sector.

It’s worth pointing out, that January is the worst month possible for people to be abstaining, especially as far as the licensed trade is concerned. I know from the personal experience of running an off-licence that, whilst Christmas is undoubtedly good for trade, you experience the complete opposite come the new year. After the over-indulgence and massive over-spend of the festive season, trade in January falls off a cliff. This plays serious havoc with your cash flow, as the Christmas bills all start to come in.

It is no exaggeration to say then, that January is often the month which breaks a publican’s business. This one month can undermine all the hard work of the year before and, the ones before that as well. This particular New Year is starting off from a position that is even lower than most, with many pubs, and even breweries, struggling to cope with such a massive dip in trade.

So, if you really care about pubs, January is definitely NOT the month to be going dry!

The Swan delivers on all fronts, including the best Christmas Ale of the season!

After that unsuccessful visit to Swan on the Green at West Peckham, back in October – the one where I nearly got roped in as an extra, on a TV series, I thought I’d try for better luck second time around. So, after boarding the No. 7 bus, from Tonbridge, I alighted at the nearby village of Mereworth, in order to walk to the Swan.

The temperatures were about 10 degrees colder than my previous visit, the leaves were now all missing from the trees, and there were clumps of mistletoe hanging high up in the branches of one in particular. Apart from that, little seemed to have changed, as I made my way towards West Peckham.  Entering the village, I passed the Old Post Office that, on my previous visit, was being used as filming location for the Larkin’s TV series. With the church on my right, and the village green straight ahead, I rounded the corner.

I made a beeline for the Swan, although for one heart-stopping moment I thought it was shut. Fortunately, I could see lights inside, so I was very relieved when I turned handle and pushed door open. There was a small number of people inside, and in between looking around and taking in the scene, I approached the bar.

I was greeted by a bank of hand pulls showing the range of the pub’s home-brewed beers. I opted for the weakest to start with – Fuggles Pale, 3.6% ABV. I had a brief chat with the barman about trade and the effect of the filming that had closed the pub on my last visit. He said that trade was quite buoyant, and the series had provided a welcome boost.

I walked over to the far right of pub, and sat myself down at a vacant table, near to the roaring log fire, but not too close to it. Not long after, a couple of fellas came in. They looked a similar age to me, and from their conversation with the people behind the bar, they were obviously regulars. They ordered a pint each of the Swan’s Christmas Ale; a beer I had already clocked at 6.8% ABV.

I was surprised to see how dark it was – similar in colour to Harvey’s Old, but obviously quite a bit stronger. Watching the pair getting stuck into their pints with relish, persuaded me give it a try once I had finished my pale ale. I picked up a copy of the local CAMRA branch magazine, from the stack, next to the fireplace. It was Draught Copy, written and published by Maidstone & Mid-Kent CAMRA. I was pleased to see it was still going strong, as, 35 years ago, I was the editor of this illustrious publication, although it was just a folded, four-page news-sheet back then.

With the prospect of Christmas Ale occupying my thoughts, I decided it would be wise to grab something to eat first. I didn’t want anything too heavy, so I opted for soup of the day, parsnip as it turned out and served with some thick crusty bread and butter. In the meantime, several more people arrived, including a couple with their dog. They asked if they could sit at the same table as me, which was fine, as it was large enough table and with plenty of room.

The dog made itself at home, on the floor beneath, but not before as its owners pointed out, doing a quick recce for crumbs, or other pieces of dropped food. There wasn’t any, but I exchanged pleasantries with the couple as they made themselves comfortable in front of the fire. They were heading out on circular walk, along part of Greensand Ridge that runs nearby, but had called in at the Swan for quick a drink first.

By this time, I was tucking into my soup, which was tasty and nice and warming. I ordered a pint of Christmas Ale, before finishing lunch, and quickly got into that as well. The beer was excellent, being rich, dark, and warming.  I can safely say that hand on heart it was by far the best Christmas ale I have had over the entire festive season.

Others in the pub obviously thought the same, as one of the two blokes opposite, went for a second, whilst one of the other recent arrivals also ordered a pint. With a potency of 6.8%, the Swan’s Christmas Ale is obviously a beer to be treated with respect, despite its apparent popularity. But if, like me, you’ve arrived on foot and don’t need to drive, later in the day, then you can sink a couple with impunity. I imagine this applies to many who live in West Peckham, as they are in effect, a captive audience.

The pub is easy to walk to, and as the village is on road to nowhere, there is not much traffic about, making walking relatively safe. This was evident when I left the Swan, to walk the mile and a half back to Mereworth, and the bus home. I reflected on leaving about how good it was to see a thriving village local, and one that is not wholly dependent on the food trade.

It’s also worth noting that the Swan has been brewing its own beers for over 20 years now, so they are well-established and obviously popular with the locals. They also continue to attract visiting cask aficionadas like me, along with CAMRA members from both West Kent and Maidstone branches.

I reached the bus stop, opposite Mereworth school, in time to catch the 15.08 service back to Tonbridge. After calling in at the building society, I walked along to Matthew’s shop. He was knocking off at 4pm, so I waited for him to finish, and we walked home together. Looking at my Smart Watch later, I had clocked up just under 14,000 steps, which wasn’t bad for a day’s walk.

Looking back through the archives, I visited the Swan, back in 2018 – almost three year’s exactly to the day. Clicking on the link here, will allow you to read about that visit, along with a detailed history of the pub and its highly successful, on-site brewery.

 

Wot no micro?? Actually, there is one now!

I was carrying out a spot of maintenance on the blog earlier, when I came across a draft post, dating from November 2019. For some reason I didn’t publish it, so I thought I might as well let it see the light of day, now. The post is still relevant, and the only thing that has changed is that West Kent does now have its own micro-pub, in Edenbridge, called the Secret Cask. I haven’t visited, but the reports from friends an acquaintances who have, are favourable. There is no website for readers to refer to, but take a look on What Pub for further details.

One thing which is peculiar to this part of Kent; certainly when compared to other parts of the county, is the complete absence of any micro-pubs. Given that the micro-pub “phenomena” originated in Kent, there is not a single example amongst the four towns (Edenbridge, Sevenoaks, Tonbridge and Tunbridge Wells), which make up this corner of West Kent.

The nearest micro-pubs are in Gravesend, Maidstone, and Petts Wood, but none of these destinations are exactly on the doorstep, so unless inhabitants of this locality, fancy embarking on a bus or a train journey for their micro-pub fix, they are well and truly stuffed.

Tonbridge came quite close to getting a micro, a couple of years ago, but after taking the option of a lease on a vacant small shop at the north end of the High Street, and obtaining a Premises License, the potential proprietor got cold feet and aborted the project. The former shop is now an art gallery, and as far as I am aware is doing OK: not that Tonbridge is known as a centre for the arts!

Fortunately we now have our own branch of Fuggles; ironically not too far away from the aborted micro-pub, but Fuggles operates as a full-blown pub, along the same lines as the highly successful Tunbridge Wells original, and is therefore not a micro-pub.

Sky-high property prices may be partly to blame for the lack of micro-pubs, particularly when they manifest themselves in the form of high rental values. But at the moment there are a lot of empty shops, especially in Tonbridge and Tunbridge Wells, and I don’t see the situation improving anytime soon. Most of these shops are units in shopping centres - such as Royal Victoria Place, in Tunbridge Wells, so the rents are likely to be way beyond what most wanna-be micro-pub owners could afford. They are also on the large side, so the likelihood of a micro-pub opening are pretty slim. The uncertainty surrounding Brexit, which has followed from Cameron’s reckless referendum gamble, is not helping either.

Something tells me I ought to be disappointed by the lack of a true micro-pub in the area, but strangely I don’t, and whilst I think the basic concept is sound, I don’t see it as a panacea for the ills currently afflicting the pub trade. My micro-pub experiences have largely been confined to Thanet and Gravesend, and whilst I have visited some excellent establishments, particularly in East Kent, I have been in one or two real duds.

I feel that the guidelines set out by the Micro-PubAssociation, are too rigid; even though I accept they are laid out that way in order to encourage a particular clientele and discourage various other sorts. I am also not a huge fan of the really tiny ones, where if someone wants to visit the Gents, everyone has to make way for them; or if you turn round too quickly you are likely to knock someone’s pint out of their hands.

Also, whilst I am normally quite a gregarious individual, there are times when I prefer my own company, and to sit quietly and read a book, or just watch the world go by. You could say, “Don’t go into such places when you’re feeling grumpy or unsociable,” and of course you would be right, but as a micro-pub will often provide the best selection and most unusual selection of beers within a town, there is often nowhere else suitable to go.

Micro-pubs are also known for not doing food; certainly nothing beyond basic snacks such as filled rolls, pork pies or scotch eggs. Again, for many people, this is a big plus point, and as someone who frequents pubs a lot less frequently than I once did, it’s not really incumbent on me to dictate the food offering; even though I am likely to want something more substantial to help soak up the beer.

So should the famous “model”  based on the Butcher’s Arms at Herne remain the gold standard for a true micro, or is here scope for enhancement and improvement? Personally, whilst I would like the emphasis to remain on locally sourced, cask-ales, I see no reason why a couple of slightly more adventurous “key-keg” beers could not be stocked. Also, why not stock a couple of genuine, continental Pilsners, which would keep lager drinkers happy, without attracting the Stella, Fosters and Carling “lout” drinkers. I also don’t see a problem with offering a small range of quality malt whiskies or artisan gins and vodkas. Then there are the wine drinkers of course, and here something rather better than Cash & Carry, “bag-in-a-box” plonk, wouldn’t go amiss.

On reflection, I would leave the food offering alone, as not only would it be impractical, as well as financially unviable, to employ a chef, most micro-pubs aren’t large enough (yes I know the clue is in the name) and besides, the smell of cooking is enough to put many drinkers off.

So perhaps with a bit of tweaking, Paul’s “enhanced” micro-pub could be the way forward. Or perhaps not!