My longing for a pint of English ale, in an English pub, is finally satisfied.

After over three weeks’ worth of blogging about cruising and visiting foreign parts, we come back down to earth now with a bang, in the form of a brief respite from exotic locations, blue skies and hot sunny days afloat. In common with all good things, our three-week cruise sadly came to an end when we docked at Southampton, early on Friday morning.

A rather damp Saturday was spent unpacking followed by a shopping expedition to Tesco, in order to restock the food cupboard. Sunday dawned bright and sunny, so after a brief lie-in, I was up, and out of bed, at least half an hour before Mrs PBT's. By the time she eventually surfaced, I had a machine load of washing on the go, had finished emptying my suitcase, and returned virtually all of the items taken with me on the cruise, back to their rightful place.

My wife was some way behind me, although we were not in a race with one another, and to be fair, she probably packed twice as much clothing as I did. She had also packed for both warm and cold conditions, as I later discovered, when I started emptying one of her cases. As it turned out, the cardigans, scarves etc, all designed to keep her warm on deck when the winds were blowing, and the rain lashing down, were not needed, as apart from the last three days we were blessed with wall-to-wall sunshine and temperatures that were positively balmy.

Afterwards, I did a spot of tidying up in the garden. There were several bowls worth of tomatoes to be picked, and Eileen ended frying some of them up for a light breakfast/early lunch. You can't beat sun ripened tomatoes freshly picked from the garden, and with some thick, crusty bread to mop up the juices, this was just the thing to set us both up for the day ahead. By mid-afternoon I had achieved most of what I’d set out to do in the garden, and decided it was time for a well-earned pint of traditional English ale. Consequently, I headed down into Tonbridge to the Nelson Arms which, as many followers of this blog will be aware, is one of the best pubs in town. To underscore this status, the Nelson was recently announced as one of four finalists, in the 2023 CAMRA National Pub of the Year contest.

I am not sure when judging for the final round of the contest takes place but having got this far, and into the top four finalists, is a fantastic achievement and something that Matt, Emma, and the rest of the team at the Nelson, can be immensely proud of. Being Sunday lunchtime, I expected the Nelson to be busy, but even so I was taken aback at just how many people were crammed into the pub. With no chance of a seat, I squeezed myself in at a corner to the left of the bar counter and waited to be served.

As always, there was a good selection of beer on offer, but the one that caught my eye was Shere Drop, from Surrey Hills Brewery, and a beer I've always held in high regard. The pint that the bar staff pulled up for me, certainly didn't disappoint, and whilst it wasn't strictly true to say that it hardly touched the sides, I still managed to knock it back quite rapidly. It’s hard to say whether my thirst was due to the warm and sunny late October conditions outside, my brisk walk down from home, or a combination of both, but whatever the reason that pint slid down a treat. It was definitely one of the best beers I’ve had in a long, long time.  

I noticed a friend from CAMRA, sitting round the corner and enjoying Sunday lunch with his wife and either mother or mother-in-law, and popped over to say hello, but not wishing to intrude on an extended family meal, I only stopped for he briefest of chats. Jon asked if I'd gone over to the Spa Valley Railway Beer Festival, which was taking place over the weekend. I told him I hadn’t, as I had just returned from holiday. He replied that he hadn't been to the festival either but had heard that prices were on the steep side. The high prices were confirmed on Monday, by a work colleague, although she did say the beers were in good condition.

Either way, I’m pleased for both the local CAMRA branch, and the staff of the Spa Valley Railway, all of whom work tirelessly to make the event a success. For my part, I was just pleased to be spending my time in an unspoiled, traditional town pub that could be on the verge of scooping the highest award that any pub can wish for, rather than being crammed in at a crowded and, at times manic beer festival, regardless of how many beers might be on sale.

Returning to the Nelson, the pub certainly appeared popular that day, with sports fans in the left-hand bar, and diners enjoying a Sunday roast, or an afternoon drink in the rest of the pub. Despite the hustle and bustle, Matt still found time for a brief chat with me, before being called away to take another food order help the waiting staff clear space for the next influx of hungry local residents. Taking time to acknowledge customers, both old and new is always the sign of a good landlord, and Matt is definitely one of the best.

Following on from the Surrey Hills offering, I decided to go for a pint of Gales HSB, a beer that is something of an old favourite, but which has made a comeback in recent years, thanks to promotion from “new” owners, Fuller’s. I wrote about HSB back in the summer after it made a couple of appearance locally, turning up in both Tonbridge and Lewes. It was in fine form at the Nelson as well, on Sunday, so perhaps I should have stuck with it, instead of going all experimental.

By this I am referring to an “Elderberry Porter” called Ebulum, from Rother Valley Brewery, which wasn’t quite as appealing as it sounded. Having sampled homemade elderberry wine in the dim and distant past, I should have remembered that these berries have a high tannin content, which can impart a very astringent mouthfeel to the finished product. Ebulum was no exception, and although an interesting experiment on the part of the brewery, it really didn’t work for me.

The beer was OK, and certainly not undrinkable, but at the same time I was glad to have only ordered a half. By the time I'd ordered this third beer, several of the dining parties had left the premises and eventually I had a very nice and comfortable easy chair tucked away in the snug bar, which is almost a separate room, to the far right of the main bar. It was an extremely pleasant way to while away a Sunday afternoon, and just what I needed to set me up ready for the rigours of a return to work after a three-week absence.

The Hopbine and the Halfway House - a visit that nearly didn't happen

West Kent CAMRA bus trips have a horrible habit of going wrong, and Wednesday’s journey out to two rural pubs was no exception. As I discovered a couple of weeks ago, when I set off on a bus trip to Lewes, gas main replacement works on a major road leading into Tunbridge Wells have caused absolute carnage on the town’s transport system.  This has forced beleaguered bus company operators to terminate all services that would normally approach the town from the south or the west, at the bus interchange outside the area’s main hospital in Pembury.

A shuttle service is then supposed to operate between the hospital and the town centre, following a torturous route through the local industrial estate. Despite knowing this I decided to take a rare day off on Wednesday, partially because both the Hopbine and the Halfway House, are hard to get to without a car, but more importantly because I wanted to catch up with friends who I hadn’t seen for some time.

Although the journey from Tonbridge to Pembury Hospital is theoretically unaffected by the gas main replacement, I thought it wise to catch an earlier bus. The plan was to meet up at the Pembury bus interchange and then take the 297 Tenterden bus, operated by Ham's Travel, as far as the edge of Brenchley village. We would then walk to the Hopbine, enjoy a few pints plus a bite to eat, before walking, across country, to the excellent Halfway House. Another benefit of the earlier bus service was the chance to grab a coffee at the hospital, whilst waiting for my friends to arrive. This was in sharp contrast to my earlier trip to Lewes, where the connection only allowed time for a pee stop, and nothing else.

Rather ominously, the 219 bus from the top of my road, was 20 minutes late in arriving, so I was rather surprised that the other local CAMRA members were not on it. In theory the later bus would still have got them to Pembury in time for the connection, even though the 297-bus pulled up at the stand 20 minutes early. It was then I that I noticed a WhatsApp message asking if anyone was at the hospital, because the Tonbridge contingent were stuck waiting at the bus stop for a bus that showed no signs of turning up.

With no sign of a bus, and nothing showing on the Arriva bus company app, the group from Tonbridge decided to abort the trip, leaving me thinking that I’d be visiting the pubs on my own. it was then that I received a WhatsApp message from a friend who lives in Pembury village, stating that he was intending to get on there, although from the sound of the other messages, it might only be him and me on the trip. After chatting to a group of people waiting at Pembury, I discovered that a lorry had got itself stuck beneath a narrow railway bridge, close to High Brooms rail station, and this was adding to the traffic chaos.

Knowing the cause of the problem was little comfort, but with our driver now clued up as to what had occurred, he departed the bus interchange, and we picked up Dave in Pembury. We then headed out along the A21 towards the villages of Matfield and Brenchley, although on the way, some additional messages came through from the WhatsApp group, advising that two members were cycling to the Hopbine and would meet us there.  Dave and I left the bus at the top of Brenchley Lane and walked along this quiet and secluded country road towards the attractive Hopbine Inn, at the top of a hill on the edge of the hamlet of Petteridge.

Before going any further, apologies for this long and rather drawn-out introduction, but it does illustrate the type of problems that seem to beset our CAMRA bus trips. It’s almost as though there’s someone up there who doesn’t like us!  Returning to the main narrative, we entered the Hopbine with a king size thirst, and surveyed the beers on the bar. They were Tonbridge Traditional, Harvey’s Best plus a house beer brewed specially for the pub by Cellar Head. My friend went for the Tonbridge beer, whilst I decided to give the house beer a go, even though Cellar Head are not my favourite brewery.

The girl behind the bar asked if we wanted to sit outside, and we thought this would be a good idea, especially as there is a nice shaded terraced area at the rear of the pub. She also asked if we would be eating, and thinking this was a good idea, so after looking at the rather limited options (pizza or burger), we both went for the latter. I knew I would be eating later on in the day, so I asked if I could have mine without the fries. “Yes,” was the answer but when she tried charging me the same amount (£14.95), I asked where was the deduction for the leaving off the fries. Unbeknown to us, the rather scruffy person, sitting in the raised area to the left of the bar, happened to be the chef (we should have guessed, really), so she shouted across, "How much for the meal, without chips?" “Knock a fiver off,” was the answer, which was fine for me, as I obtained a rather nice gourmet burger, at a far more realistic price!

We took our drinks outside and found a nice shady spot. There are three terrace levels behind the pub, each one lower than the one above. This is due to the Hopbine being built into the side of the hill. We were sitting there chatting, whilst enjoying our beer and food, when we saw one of the intrepid cyclists puffing up the steep hill below us. It happened to be branch chairman, Tony. I nipped up the steps to advise him of our presence, just as Lycra-clad Martin, the other cyclist arrived from the opposite direction. So in a short space of time, we had doubled our numbers.

Our newly arrived companions decided they wanted some food to go with their drink and after eating, the four of us sat there trying to make contact with other people we thought might be coming. We hadn’t done this earlier, as being on the O2 network, both Dave and I had no mobile signal, but fortunately one of the new arrivals was able to pick up a series of messages that had come through on the WhatsApp group. This indicated that two other members, having spent ages sitting on the shuttle bus to Pembury hospital, had managed to get a connecting service as far as Matfield, and would be walking from there.

We waited for them to arrive and were surprised at how quickly they turned up, as we weren’t expecting their presence so soon. In a short space of time our small party had trebled in size and made a nice little gathering. 

I switched to Harvey’s for my second pint, and after I newly arrived companions that whetted their whistle, we decided to move on to the second pub on the itinerary, the Halfway House a mile or so outside of Brenchley. Unfortunately, the late arrivals had missed the 2pm cut off for lunch and were doubtful of their chances of eating at the next pub either, but regardless of this, we departed.

The two cyclists set off by road, whilst the rest of us followed on foot, along a well-trodden route, across country. It’s a pleasant half hour's walk between the two pubs, through some a series of former orchards, and then down into a valley that is home to a number of fishing lakes. We eventually emerged onto a winding lane that runs in an easterly direction and brings one out, almost at the rear of the Halfway House.

This was my first visit to this attractive, destination pub, since before the pandemic, and the improvements that the owners had put in place, to enable trade to continue outside, during those periods when COVID restrictions were partially lifted, have added to both its charm, and versatility. These additions obviously came into their own, when the Halfway resumed its twice-yearly beer festivals, and the large, semi-covered area overlooking the garden offered some much welcome shade from the fierce, early August sun.

The Halfway House needs little in the way of introduction to pub connoisseurs, particularly as it majors on cask beer. Casks are kept in a temperature-controlled room, immediately behind the bar, with extra-long taps that protrude through the dividing wall, and out via false, wooden barrel ends, set into the wall. The result - beer kept at just the right temperature and served in the most natural way possible – straight from the cask. 

I headed for the Gents, as soon as we arrive, after foolishly neglecting to go before leaving the Hopbine. I didn’t dive into the bushes, as I was walking in mixed company. The rest of the group were waiting at the bar – the cyclists having arrived first, but there was one beer on the list that would really hit the spot, and that was Goacher’s Fine Light. The Halfway House also features a couple of “house beers”, one brewed by Cellar Head and another by Kent Brewery, but being something of a purist, I have never been keen on such brews.

We had around 90 minutes before the arrival of the 297-bus, that would take us back to Pembury, so we sat outside chatting and enjoying the well-kept beers. One of the cyclists (Martin), was off to the famous Cropredy Festival, early the next morning, so he didn’t stay too long, but with plenty of time for another beer, the rest of us stayed. Kent Session Pale was my second beer, pleasant, but not as good as the Goacher’s.  

We stood out in front of the pub in plenty of time, as whilst the bus will stop there, it is not an official stop, and it is necessary to flag it down. With a steep descent towards the pub, and the temptation for the driver to put his foot down, that isn’t always the easiest, or indeed the safest of tasks, and somehow that job fell to me. Fortunately, I managed it OK, and we boarded the bus back to the hospital. Dave alighted, just outside his house, and the rest of us didn’t have long to wait for our connections. Presumably the morning’s chaos had cleared by then, but never let it be said that West Kent CAMRA bus trips lack drama or are uneventful!

 

 

Lewes and back, by bus

It's always a good idea to have a reason for heading off on a bus trip, or a day out by rail somewhere, even if that reason is really rather tentative. My reason for taking the bus down to Lewes last Friday, was to return the pile of empty Harvey’s beer bottles I’d accumulated since our last visit to the Sussex County town. I came across the bottles whilst tidying up our summer house, a couple of months ago, and whilst I could quite easily have driven to Lewes, in order to return them, as Mrs PBT’s and I had done prior to Christmas, making use of my bus pass meant that apart from a few hours of my time, the return trip from Tonbridge would cost me nothing. Also, by not taking the car, I could visit a couple of Lewes pubs and enjoy a few beers, without being a hazard on the road, or indeed putting my driving licence at risk.

But why did I want to return these empty bottles in the first place? The answer is Harvey’s, quite commendably, are one of the very few UK brewers in the country who operate a bottle return scheme, which operates by charging a refundable, 10p deposit on each bottle supplied. So, by returning these bottles and using public transport, I was doing my bit for the environment in two ways. I’d accumulated just under two dozen empty and washed beer bottles, but how to transport them without making too much of a racket, and without straining my back and shoulders into the bargain? Simples really, I placed half the bottles in my rucksack, and then shoved the remainder into a stout shopping bag.

“You want to watch out as they might not let you on the bus,” said Mrs PBT's as I set off to the bus stop. My initial destination was Tunbridge Wells, where I could pick up the No. 29 Brighton and Hove service, which runs half - hourly between the Wells and Brighton. It took me two buses to reach Tunbridge Wells, but this meant I missed the 20-minute walk down from Bailey Towers to the bus stop opposite Tonbridge station.

I arrived in Tunbridge Wells in sufficient time for a precautionary pee stop, although there was not enough time to grab the coffee I was craving. Bus drivers understandably, are not keen for food and drink to be consumed on their buses, and given the empty bottles I was carrying, a cup of coffee would not have been a good idea. Mind you, I was gagging for a caffeine fix by the time we reached Lewes. Given the load I was carrying, I thought it wise to sit on the lower deck of the bus, even though the upper one would always be my first choice. This was more to do with exiting the bus, given the steep stairs down from the upper deck, and the way that buses tend to lurch around when stopping (and accelerating).

The journey to Lewes took 20 minutes longer than it should have done, largely due to road works – that current scourge of any journey involving motor transport, so I heaved a sigh of relief when we finally reached our destination. The bus deposited us at the bottom of the town, and at the foot of the famously steep School Hill. I crossed the road and headed towards Cliff High Street, traversing the River Ouse by the bridge next to Harvey's magnificently brewery, with its adjacent and well-stocked shop.

I returned my bottles which were gratefully received by the staff at the shop, in exchange for the principal sum of £2.20, which went towards three new bottles of Harvey’s beer. The first one was an old favourite Prince of Denmark, a strong and complex dark ale, with an abv of 7.5%, whilst the other two were Southdown Harvest plus Georgian Dragon, a ruby ale named after the mythical beast slain by England’s patron saint.

Afterwards it was time to grab that much needed coffee, something I wanted more than beer, at that moment in time. I wanted to avoid the usual Starbucks and Costa outlets, as I like to support independent retailers wherever possible. I was also feeling rather peckish, but salvation came in the form off a local bakery called Bake Out, situated next to the River Ouse. Whilst queuing up for a flat white, I saw a freshly baked pasty beckoning to me, from a tray at the front of the glass countertop. It proved far too tempting, so after purchasing one of these appealing hot pasties, plus a coffee, I found a convenient bench, on the other side of the road, where I could sit down and enjoy this impromptu lunch.

Something to eat prior to starting on the beer, was definitely a good idea and it seemed like I wasn’t the only person stuffing their face. The pasty I bought was filling and wholesome, and many others had the same idea, as places like Bake Out and other similar outlets, were doing a roaring trade. The bench I was sat on, proved a good spot for watching the world go by, and it was nice just sitting there watching the world go by. Lewes has always had an alternative, and slightly offbeat feel to it, and it seems to attract like-minded people. I have always had a soft spot for the town, and the fact that it's the home to one of the country’s best traditional brewing companies, is one more factor that makes it a “must visit” destination, as far as I'm concerned.

It was now most definitely time for a beer. I had a couple of pubs in mind, the first one of which was an old favourite from the time that I worked in Lewes. The Gardener’s Arms is a slightly quirky offbeat pub of the type I hinted about earlier. It's situated in Cliff High Street just a stone’s throw from Harvey’s Brewery Shop. It’s also genuine free house, offering five constantly changing guest ales, usually sourced from small breweries, from all over the country. Harvey’s seasonal ales and one-off brews often feature, as well.

It must be a decade or so since I last visited, so I made a beeline to the pub, keen to see what beers were on sale. I walked in past the small crowd sat at a table in front of the window, having decided upon the Three Acre Ruby Porter, advertised on the “A” board in front of the pub. Unfortunately, the beer had just sold out, but the helpful girl behind the bar recommended the Rother Valley Blue, instead. It's a porter she told me, and she was right of course, but somehow over the years I've always regarded this pleasant Rother Valley dark beer as something different, although I'm not sure which. I sat at the bar, enjoying the beer, which was dark, full bodied and delicious, whilst soaking up the atmosphere of this classic Lewes pub.

It was time to move on, so I made my way back cross the River Ouse, stopping to take the obligatory photo or two of Harvey’s Brewery. Before heading up the hill, I wanted to check the location of the bus stop for my return journey, as well as the times of the buses. This information is readily available  on the Brighton & South Downs website, but just to make sure, it was the stop outside Waitrose. The pub I had in mind was the classic, Lewes Arms, situated at the top of the town, in the shadow of Lewes castle, but instead of making the steep School Hill, I followed one of the side roads, stopping to take some photos of the interesting buildings I passed on the way.

One particular building that really sparked my interest was the complex that was once home to the Star Lane Brewery of Beard and Co. The company ceased brewing in 1958, after reaching an agreement with their Lewes neighbours, Harvey’s that the latter would brew for them, but they would sell the beers under their own name. Forty years later, in 1998, Beard’s sold their 43 pubs to Greene King. Today the Star Brewery is home to a series of art galleries, and as the door was open, I managed to sneak a quick peep inside, to see if there was anything remaining from its days as a brewery. The plant had obviously been stripped out decades earlier, but an old staircase leading to both the upper and lower levels of the building, gave a clue and also a feel of the days when Beard & Co were producing their beers there. Behind the former brewery complex lies the Lewes Arms, a former Beard’s pub of course, and a real classic in so many ways.

Before venturing inside for a drink, I walked up the steep lane at the side of the pub, towards the castle, which I could see, towering over the town, as I looked out across the pitch of the local bowls club. I paused too, in order to look at the plaque commemorating the Battle of Lewes, which took place in May 1264. The skirmish saw an army of barons, led by Simon De Montfort, defeat a royalist force twice their size under King Henry III on the downs, to the northwest of Lewes. It is claimed that De Montfort’s victory led to the establishment of the first English parliament, which met at Westminster, in January of the following year.

I retraced my footsteps, down to the Lewes Arms, a pub that is as traditional as anyone could wish for, and popular with visitors and locals alike. Fuller's beers are served, alongside Harvey's Best, plus a guest. These are dispensed from a bank of hand-pumps, located in the atmospheric front bar, which has its own door off the corridor. Last Friday, as well as the Harvey’s, there were two Gale's beers on sale, Seafarers and HSB. on sale, I naturally went for the latter, having enjoyed a glass of the same beer, the previous day at the Nelson Arms in Tonbridge.

As with the Gardener’s, the Lewes Arms is another quirky pub that embodies everything I like about  East Sussex's county town. The lively, but well-behaved crowd in the front bar, were probably of a similar age to myself, but the young girl behind the bar kept them in order and had everything under control. She also served me up a first-class pint of HSB. I ended up sitting in the room behind the bar, which is one of three rooms in the pub, which was occupied by a family group and their dog.

I can highly recommend the Lewes Arms to visitors to the town, but two pints was sufficient, bearing in mind the bus journey home. I returned my glass to the bar and made my way back down School Hill to the main road at the bottom. I had about 15 minutes to wait before the bus arrived, and this time I climbed the stairs to the top deck.  This made the return journey far more pleasant, as I’d felt rather hemmed in during the outward journey, and the views across the Sussex countryside were a joy to behold.

Our first stop was the town of Uckfield, after which the road skirts the edge of Ashdown Forest as it makes its way towards Crowborough. We arrived back in Tunbridge Wells sometime around half four, by which time my bladder was rather full. A quick dash to the public toilets in the Royal Victoria Place shopping centre, followed by the bus back to Tonbridge, saw me home in plenty of time for tea. It was a long journey, just to return a couple of bags of empties, but it was good to renew my acquaintance with Lewes, and a couple of its pubs. I shall probably choose somewhere nearer, for my next bus trip, though.

 

 

 

 

Gales HSB - another blast from the past

Back in April I wrote a post about Walter Hicks Special Draught – HSD, a beer brewed by Cornish brewers, St Austell. It’s a beer that many drinkers thought had disappeared, and without beating about the bush, it’s a real, old fashioned strong best bitter, of the type we don’t see much of today. The article was sparked by the appearance of HSD in a well-known Tonbridge pub – the Nelson Arms, and it is the Nelson again where another strong, best bitter, complete with a proper traditional taste and feel, has featured on a couple occasions recently.

The beer I’m talking about has a similar three letter acronym to HSD and is called HSB. This strong, English bitter, is russet in colour and is packed full of rich, soft-fruit flavours, which are definitely not citrus in nature! Its full name is Horndean Special Bitter, Horndean being a small village 8 miles north of Portsmouth, on the main A3 road from London. 

Until 2006, Horndean was the home of George Gale & Co Ltd, a brewery with a distinctive range of traditional, bitter ales. It was founded in 1847 but found itself on the market when a member of the owning family decided to cash in his share of the business. Gales was bought by well-known, London brewers, Fuller, Smith & Turner in 2005, for £92 million, and closed the following year, after which production transferred was to Chiswick.

In the years leading up to the takeover, Gale’s beers – primarily HSB, were often seen in the free trade, and were stocked locally, until quite recently, at the Dovecote Inn at Capel, near Paddock Wood. During the early years of my association with West Kent CAMRA, HSB sometimes featured as a guest ale, at the Little Brown Jug at Chiddingstone Causeway, but apart from those two outlets, I haven’t come across the beer in ages. Several days ago I did, and enjoyed my first pint in years of HSB at the Nelson. It was every bit as good as I remember it. Then, the following day I noticed it on sale again, this time at the famous Lewes Arms, a wonderful unspoilt pub at the top of the Sussex county town, in the shadow of Lewes’s imposing castle. Some might call it serendipity, whilst others will just dismiss it as coincidence, but it’s worth noting the care that new owners, Fuller's put into this beer, as HSB is still brewed with the same Gales yeast that gave it its famous flavour.

I first enjoyed Gale’s beers on a visit to a small village in Surrey. This would have been in the mid-1970’s, whilst I was a student, at Salford University. A friend of mine had access to a small cottage, in the equally tiny village of Eashing, near Godalming. The property belonged to his mother, and her partner, and having borrowed the keys (with permission), my friend Nick and I, along with our respective girlfriends, headed down into deepest Surrey, to enjoy a long and relaxing weekend in the Surrey countryside. The four of us met at Waterloo station, and boarded a train to Godalming, but not before enjoying a few pints of Brakspear’s, at the Hole in the Wall opposite.

The latter was a well-known free house, occupied a railway arch opposite the station, and was renowned for offering a good selection of cask ales. This was the first opportunity any of us had to sample a few pints of Henley’s finest, so we made the most of it, before catching our train. Without a car at our disposal, we walked from Godalming station to Eashing, and it was getting dark by the time we reached Nick’s mother’s cottage. There was an Ind Coope pub in Eashing, serving top-pressure Ind Coope Special Draught, but little else of interest to budding beer enthusiasts, like ourselves. Fortunately, our host had done his homework and knew, from previous visits, there was a Gales pub in Milford, the next village to the south, situated just off the busy A3 trunk road.

There were a couple of bikes at the cottage, so the following day Nick and I cycled to the pub, leaving the girls to their own devices. Whilst there, we enjoyed Gale’s Light Mild, Bitter plus of course, HSB. I’ve been trying to identify the pub itself, as none are listed on What Pub under Milford, but a look at a website for closed pubs indicates that the village had two pubs, both named after lions, one red and the other white. Looking at the photos, I’ve a feeling it was the Red Lion, situated on the Portsmouth Road, that we visited. The pub closed in 2009 and is now used as a Tesco Express. The White Lion fared slightly better, by managing to hang on until 2015.

Going back to the takeover of Gales, for a moment, the brewery at Horndean, had suffered from years of under-investment, and whilst Fuller’s had intended on keeping it open, the costs of the work required to bring it up to modern standards, would have made this uneconomical. This is the reason why the plant closed when it did. As I mentioned earlier, Fuller’s  managed to save Gale’s unique strain of yeast, and as well as HSB, they produce another former Gale’s beer, this being the unique Prize Old Ale, an extremely strong, old ale, that is matured in oak casks, prior to bottling. The bottles were originally sealed with a cork, but I understand more conventional crown caps are now used instead.

Unlike its Cornish counterpart HSD, this other survivor from the past, is much more widely available, and HSB can often be found on the bar, in Fuller’s tied houses. The reason I haven’t seen it, is there are very few pubs owned by that brewery, in this part of Kent, and the only one I can think of is the George & Dragon in Westerham, an imposing old inn, overlooking the green in the centre of the town. The brewery have plenty of pubs in London though, so the capital might be your best bet, it you are after that elusive taste from a largely bygone era.