Dark Beer Weekend at the Dovecote

Last Friday, in the company of a half dozen or so members of West Kent CAMRA branch, plus one small dog, I visited the Dovecote Inn, situated in the tiny hamlet of Capel. Travelling by bus, we took the 205 Autocar service from Tonbridge, and then alighted at Five Oak Green – a small, but rapidly expanding village, close to Paddock Wood. From there, it was a 25-minute walk, along the lanes to the Dovecote, which along with the adjacent row of Victorian houses, forms part of a rather isolated settlement.

This was a repeat of the journey a smaller group of us made a the end of October last year. The occasion back then was the Dovecote’s Green Hop Beer Festival, and this time it was a different festival that the pub was hosting in the form of their Dark Beer Weekend. The even featured 14 different dark beers, from 13 different breweries, all available from Friday onward for the duration of the festival, or until the beers ran out.  

The Dovecote is situated on the back road between Colts Hill and Tudeley which, as we discovered, was surprisingly busy. From the outside it is a typical Victorian building, that has been extended at the front and at the side, whilst to the rear there is a part-covered terrace, along with an extensive garden and large car-park. With very few chimney pots in the immediate vicinity, the Dovecote has always needed something different to offer its customers, and it achieves this by selling a wide range of cask beers (up to six), direct from the cask alongside a selection of what it describes as “good traditional, locally sourced homely food, in a cosy atmosphere”.

Arriving at the pub at around quarter to one, we found the pub already quite busy, with a party of expectant diners occupying the area to the right of the bar. We therefore made a grab for the other main seating area, at the opposite end of the building, but not before purchasing a few tokens. As with the Green Hop event, the Dark Beer Festival was tokens only, priced at £2.50 per half pint, regardless of strength. This seemed a little strange given that the pub was still taking payments (cash and card) behind the bar, although I suppose this policy kept the festival finances separate from the rest of the pubs transactions, including the food.

Several of us had already decided to have something to eat and seeing the number of people already in the pub, and knowing that the kitchen closed at 2pm, we got our orders in quick. My choice was the chicken, ham, and leek pie, served with mashed potato, veg and gravy – a no brainer really, given my love of pies. The food also arrived, whilst I was still on my first beer.

Speaking of which, there were a couple of old favourites featured on the line-up, in the form of Harvey’s XXXX Old Ale plus Larkin’s Porter. I was especially pleased to see the latter on sale, as it represented my first glass of this full-bodied, dark, seasonal ale this winter. Seasonal, is probably the wrong adjective, as I was told by a couple of branch members that Larkin’s now brew Porter all year round. Things have certainly changed since brewery founder Bob Dockerty’s passing, at the end of 2022, although I’d be interested to learn how many casks of Porter are sold during the summer months.

Other beers of note included Coffee & Irish Cream Stout, from North Riding Brewery, plus French Toast Brown Ale from New Bristol Brewery. Both beers tasted as their names suggested, and whilst not exactly mainstream, were interesting in their own right. I ended the session on a strong beer – Westerham’s Audit Ale a 6.2% abv strong ale, brewed to the same strength and using the same ingredients as the pre-war, Audit Ale from the original Westerham Brewery. My tasting notes on Untappd, describe the beer having a vinous taste, and I think this was deliberate, as barrel-aged, or vatted ales from the early part of the last century, would have had this characteristic, which is reminiscent of certain aged, strong Belgian beers.

Our group left the pub just after 3.15pm, allowing sufficient time to walk back to Five Oak Green and then catch the 3.44pm bus back to Tonbridge. I alighted at the Vauxhall Inn, on the edge of Tonbridge and under 10 minutes’ walk from home, but the others stayed onboard, heading, I believe, for Fuggles and no doubt more strong beers, possibly dark, but possibly not.

 A few final words about the Dovecote which is now back in the capable hands of licensees Simon and Lindsey who,
despite their laid-back appearance, run a highly professional and very tight ship, which is reflected in the strong client base they have built up since taking over the reins. Another familiar face from the past at the Dovecote, is the chef Yvonne, who used to run the Royal Oak in Tunbridge Wells. She certainly cooks a mean chicken and ham pie, and her culinary skills are also fondly remembered by Mrs PBT’s who, upon knowing Yvonne was back in the kitchen, recalled the excellent Christmas dinner she provided for West Kent CAMRA members, 10 years ago at the Royal Oak.

Hunting down the Huntsman at Eridge

Anyone who has been following this blog recently might be forgiven for thinking I’m becoming somewhat obsessed with the pubs that lie along the A26 road south of Tunbridge Wells. So we have the Boar’s Head Inn, just to the north of Crowborough and  the Cooper’s Arms slightly to the east. Then there's  the Nevill Arms at Eridge Green, where I ended up after my walk last Saturday.  Then, for my first Pub Friday in February, I once again headed south to Eridge once more.  However, unlike last weekend’s walk which ended up at Eridge Green, this time I headed further south along the A26, to Eridge station – an isolated settlement consisting of a handful of houses, the railway station, plus the Huntsman pub.

I've been waiting six months now to cross the Huntsman off my list of pubs to visit, following my aborted visit back in July. That was scuppered, by a power outage forcing the pub to close for a few days. So, after taking the No. 29 bus to Eridge station from Tunbridge Wells, my heart started to sink when, I noticed several contractors vehicles, plus workmen in hi-vis jackets and hard hats milling around outside the station. One of the trucks had an extendable cage on the rear, allowing the occupant to work on the cables overhead. Was the curse of no electricity about to strike again? Fortunately, as I drew closer, the signs on the side of the vans indicated they were from BT Open Reach, rather than UK Power Networks.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I hurried along to the Huntsman and entered the pub for the first time since way before the pandemic, and for what was probably only my fourth visit ever. When I first moved Tonbridge late in 1984, the Huntsman at Eridge was one of just two pubs locally, that belonged to the late and much lamented Horsham brewers, King & Barnes. This small independent brewery was renowned for its range of distinctive and hoppy beers, but sadly ceased production in 2000. The Huntsman’s location, next door to Eridge station, meant it was easy to reach by public transport, but that was about to change.

The railway between Tunbridge Wells and Eridge, had been under the threat of closure for some time, and in 1985, British Rail enacted legislation that closed the line. At the time I was quite active within the local CAMRA group which, in those days, was known as the Tonbridge & Tunbridge Wells branch. Along with a handful of other people, I was instrumental in getting the branch get back off its feet, after a lengthy spell in the doldrums. Right from the start, we decided that visiting as many local pubs as possible, would go a long way towards achieving this aim, and that wherever possible we would use public transport.

One individual involved in this exercise, worked British Rail, and was well aware of the impending closure of the line to Eridge. So, just a few weeks before rail services ceased, a small group of us boarded the train at Tonbridge and travelled right through to Eridge. The line wasn't electrified so the train we travelled on was one of the notorious diesel "thumpers". After reaching Tunbridge Wells Central (now the only mainline station in the town), the line branched off to the south and after passing through a tunnel, emerged at Tunbridge Wells West.

This was a much larger and more grandiose station, having been originally constructed by the London Brighton & South Coast Railway, which operated direct train services to London as well as to Brighton and the Sussex coast. Following years of cutbacks and line closures, the West station found itself increasingly isolated from other parts of the network. It stood next to a large, former marshalling yard, and this made it a prime target for redevelopment, especially for a cash strapped British Rail. This was the main reason for the closure of the line and the sale of the site to supermarket giant, Sainsbury’s.

Back in 1985, the line continued from Tunbridge Wells West, to Eridge, passing through Groombridge Junction. The latter was once an important stop on the line, and was the point where services diverged, either north to London, or south towards Brighton.  We left the train and visited the Huntsman, where we enjoyed some truly excellent King & Barnes beers, but regrettably, that was the only time I travelled on the Tonbridge to Eridge line, at least as part of the main rail network. Fast forward 25 years, and trains are once again running from Tunbridge Wells West to Eridge, thanks to a hard-working group of volunteers whose vision allowed the line to reopen as a restored Heritage Railway known as the Spa Valley Railway (SVR).

The next time I visited the Huntsman was with a group of fellow CAMRA members, and the SVR was our means of conveyance. By that time King & Barnes were no more, having been taken over in 2000 by Dorset brewer, Hall & Woodhouse (Badger Ales). The Horsham brewery was closed, and Badger beers were supplied to the former K&B estate. I remember sitting outside on that gorgeous, baking hot summer's day when we enjoyed some excellent Badger beers along with a meal. It seemed hard to believe that a quarter of a century had passed between that and my first visit, but life has a habit of creeping up on you and catching you unaware.

Since then, my visits to the Huntsman have been very intermittent, despite the pub being relatively easy to visit by bus, so on Friday I finally bit the bullet and boarded the 12.19 No. 29 bus from Tunbridge Wells, towards Crowborough and Uckfield. I alighted at the stop for Eridge station, and after crossing the busy A26 with great care, made my way to this small and remote country pub, which owes it existence to the coming of the railway.  This was where I passed the BT contractors hard at work.

Relieved at finding the Huntsman open, I stepped inside, and it was only then that I remembered quite how small the pub is. The seating areas inside, form an “L” shape, with a narrow section immediately in front of the bar, and a larger, and more commodious dining area, extending to the rear of the building, and to the right of the bar counter. This section of the pub was full, almost exclusively with diners, despite the time not having reached one o’clock, but fortunately I spotted a small, unoccupied table, with space for just two persons, at the far left of the bar.

Before sitting down I ordered a beer, the choice being Long Man Best Bitter or Larkin’s Pale. With both beers of a similar strength, I went for the Larkin’s to begin with, and very good it was too. I scored it a 4.0 on Untappd, but with hindsight it was worthy of a higher score. The Long Man was also good, but here I think the 3.75 I awarded it, was the correct score. Not long after I arrived, a group of four dinners arrived, and their presence meant the entire pub was fully occupied. I remarked on the number of people present to the girl behind the bar, and she said they hadn’t expected to be quite so busy. She, and her male colleague coped admirably though, serving the drinks as well as bringing the food out to the hungry diners.

It was good to see a pub so full, especially one so remote.  I suspect that most of the customers would have driven there, despite there being an hourly train service in both directions, from Edenbridge and Uckfield, as well as a half-hourly bus service from Tunbridge Wells or Uckfield. What I wasn’t quite so impressed with was the lack of snacks – filled rolls, and the like, a Scotch egg, or slice of pork pie. This insistence on full meals only, at lunchtimes, has become increasingly common in this part of the country, and in my view, pubs are missing out here. Not all customers want a substantial meal during the middle of the day, and falling into this category, I feel our needs are not being catered for adequately if you’ll excuse the pun.

This gripe aside, I enjoyed renewing my acquaintance with the Huntsman, and I won’t leave it so long next time. There is a large garden and outdoor drinking area, to the left of, and beside the pub, set at the same level as the nearby train tracks. A summer visit then sounds like a good idea, especially if one picks a day when the SVR are running trains down to Eridge. A heritage pub, plus a heritage railway, sound like the ideal combination!

 

Frant & Eridge - two Sussex villages and their pubs, share a common heritage

After escaping from the field and its flock of sinister-looking sheep, that seemed intent on preventing me from finishing last Saturday’s walk, I reached the busy, A26 main road and continued north for a couple of hundred yards. This brought me to the Nevill Crest & Gun, an attractive pub with over 500 years of history.  Set back from the road, and close to the entrance of Eridge Park Estate, the Nevill was the place where I could rest for a while, take the weight off my feet, and relax, over a pint or two of beer.

The intriguing name of the pub relates to its connection with the nearby Eridge Park Estate, home to the Nevill family since 1448. The “Nevill Crest” refers quite literally to the crest of the Nevill family, and it is their coat of arms that adorns the pub and many other buildings in the surrounding area. The “Gun” part of the name arose from a forge on the estate which produced cannons and cannon balls. At one time an ancient cannon, made of strips of metal held together with hoops, was fired on fair days or other days of celebration, and it is this Gun that is referred to in the pub name.  

Eridge Park has been the home of the Nevill family since they inherited the house and estate in 1448. The Nevills were also granted the title of Earls of Abergavenny, and this is reflected by the name of the pub in the nearby village of Frant. I started my walk, last Saturday from the Abergavenny Arms, so it is worth taking a look at this hostelry first, before moving on to the Nevill Crest & Gun. The Abergavenny is an attractive, former coaching inn, which occupies a prominent position overlooking the main A267 Tunbridge Wells- Eastbourne road. The part tile-hung building dates back to the 15^th Century, and the age of the building is immediately apparent when you step inside. There are two large, heavily beamed rooms, one of which acts as a restaurant-cum-function room. Both areas are served from a large and well-appointed bar, and as I discovered last weekend, this is the beating hear of the pub.

I entered via the side door, as this was the closest entrance to the bus stop, passing the restaurant on my way to the bar. There were a number of barflies sat at the counter, although there was still room for me to be served. Harvey’s Best was the sole cask beer on sale, but it was in excellent form. The elderly male clique at the bar appeared totally unaware of my presence, although the barmaid was friendly, as was the lone female, perched on a stool, away from the old duffers, but as she seemed engrossed in a book, our conversation was largely to the antics of the pub dog, who was alternating between the log fire, and the possibility of treats at the bar.

If anything, the place embodied middle England on a Saturday lunchtime, where the male customers come to get away from their significant others. As for the girl, I got the impression she was waiting for someone, and was reading a book so as not to feel out of place. The Abergavenny is primarily a diners’ pub, although as witnessed, it does cater for drinkers in the area around the bar.

The villages of Frant and Eridge, both lie beyond the southern fringes of Tunbridge Wells, with the former situated on the A276 road which runs towards Eastbourne, and the latter lying on the A26, which leads down to Lewes, the county town of East Sussex. The villages, and their pubs, are connected by a short section of the Tunbridge Wells Circular Walk, and this was the rather muddy hike reported on in the post before last.

Returning to the Nevill Crest & Gun, this 500-year-old listed building was once part of the aforementioned Eridge Park Estate. Today the pub is part of the Brunning & Price chain and NOT, as stated incorrectly in my post of September 2020, a Whiting & Hammond establishment. For the record, the latter are a small, local chain of pubs, operated along similar lines to B&P, although it is quite easy to confuse the two. The Little Brown Jug, just a short distance away from my workplace in Chiddingstone Causeway, is a Whiting & Hammond pub, as is the Chaser Inn, at Shipbourne, to the north of Tonbridge.

The Nevill Crest and Gun has an interior on two slightly different levels. There are plenty of old beams, as might be expected in a building of this age, whilst at the rear of the pub, a lighter garden room, overlooking the lawns, is popular in summer. In early February, the open log fires were of much more interest to me than the garden, and they helped add to the atmosphere of this lovely old pub.

One feature I was glad about was the flooring of bare brick and exposed wooden boards, especially in view of my muddy walking boots. I took the precaution of placing those disposable over shoes (the type you see in clean room areas) on my footwear, but I still felt a little self-conscious sliding around with these bright-blue coverings over my hiking boots but wearing them was a darn sight easier than having to completely remove my tightly laced boots.

As in other B&P pubs, a comprehensive food menu is available along with a selection of cask beers, some of them local. I started off with a pint of Harvey’s Best last Saturday, and it was stunningly good. I scored it at 4.5 on Untappd. Also available was Volks ESB from 360° Brewery, a Coffee Stout collaboration beer between Vocation and Adnam’s, plus the “House” B&P Best Biter, brewed by St Austell. I risked a half of the Coffee Stout and was glad it wasn’t a pint. There was nothing wrong with the beer, it just wasn’t to my taste.

There was a nice Saturday afternoon atmosphere in the Nevill, during the duration of my visit. A couple sitting at the bar, commented on my choice of Coffee Stout, having tried it for themselves, but with the Harvey’s as good as it was, anything else would have paled into insignificance. The pub seemed dog friendly too, as might be expected in a country pub.

So, two Brunning & Price pubs in less than a week, (remember my meal at the Hare with our Japanese visitors?)  With its rustic feel and attractive rural setting, I found the Nevill far more to my taste, than the Hare. The latter was pleasant enough, even though it reminded me of a posh Edwardian family home, with its impressive mahogany staircase, and collection of comfortably furnished rooms leading off from the central vestibule. The numerous paintings completed the scene if you’ll pardon the pun.   

So, all in all some interesting, and quite contrasting pubs, all contained within a relatively tight geographical area. What will my next pub visit turn up?

.

Return to the Tunbridge Wells Circular Walk, but would I make it past those sinister looking sheep?

On Saturday, I pulled on my trusty hiking boots for the first time since last Spring and headed back out on the Tunbridge Wells Circular Walk. Last year I’d set myself the relatively easy task of completing this 28 mile walk which, as its name suggests, encompasses the town of Tunbridge Wells. On the way, the TWCW passes through the High Weald Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, and takes in some attractive villages, which include some excellent pubs. A guide book, published by the Kent Ramblers Association, divides the trail up into four sections of slightly equal length, with the opportunity of dividing these further. Being a circular route, there are opportunities to join the path at a number of different locations, whilst keeping in mind public transport connections at either end.

It should have been an easy task, after all when a friend and I walked the South Downs Way, we were covering distances between 12 and 14 miles, on a daily basis. That was 14 years ago, and unsurprisingly my levels of fitness and stamina have declined somewhat, but even so, just a couple of years ago, I was walking 8 to eleven miles a day, as I completed the quite challenging at times, North Downs Way.

By the end of May, last year, I’d only completed two of the four sections (15 miles) of the Tunbridge Wells Circular, before inexplicably losing interest in the walk. The guidebook was partly to blame, as I took several wrong turns due to a combination of poor signposting, plus scant, and in some cases, incomplete information in the guidebook. Becoming lost in the middle of a wood, is no fun, even though civilisation is never that far away, so I kind of gave up on the TWC – not completely, but the idea was definitely put on the back-burner.

This weekend though, I was determined to do something about it, and following a couple of weeks of dry and relatively warm weather – for the time of year, was determined to do something about it. Up to this point, I had walked in a clockwise direction, from Southborough to Frant, taking in the large village of Pembury on the way. The next stage is from Frant to Groombridge, a distance of just seven miles, although given my decreased levels of fitness, plus the possibility of muddy conditions under foot, I sensibly decided to cut the walk short at Eridge Green. This isn’t quite the halfway point, but with a half-hourly bus service back to Tunbridge Wells, it did make sense. So, on a rather dull and overcast Saturday morning, off I went, taking the bus over to Tunbridge Wells from Tonbridge.

I was lucky with my onward connection to Frant, having just a 15-minute wait, and after a short ride south, out of Tunbridge Wells along the A267, the No. 15 bus dropped me off almost out side the Abergavenny Arms. This imposing pub, dates from the 15^th Century, but has seen many alterations since first opening its rooms. It is one of two pubs in the village, but seeing as it was both nearer to the starting point of the walk, and the fact I wanted to renew my acquaintance with the pub, the Abergavenny was my first port of call.

There will be more about the Abergavenny in a subsequent post, and the same applies with the strangely named, Nevill Crest & Gun at the end of the walk in Eridge. For now, I want to concentrate on the walk, apart from saying that the walk I was about to undertake, was a repeat of the one I made with a group of friends, on August Bank Holiday Monday, 2020. This was during the period when COVID restrictions were first lifted, only to be re-imposed three month's later with that ridiculous 4-Tier system, devised by the hapless Matt Hancock. The bonus, at the time was our meal qualified for a 50% reduction, under the then Chancellor, Rishi Sunak’s “Eat Out to Help Out” scheme. Rishi is now Prime Minister, and Hancock thankfully, is nowhere to be seen, but three months later, we were to look back at those halcyon days when lock down was first lifted, with a sense of longing.

It's worth noting that my friends and I had walked to the Abergavenny from Tunbridge Wells earlier that day, and after our meal hiked a similar distance to Eridge. On Saturday, after leaving the pub, I continued along the A267 for some distance, concerned that I might have missed the spot where the TWCW deviates from the main road, and descends into Eridge Park. I hadn’t missed it, even though the turnoff seemed much further away than I remembered from 3½ years ago, but the drop down into the park was every bit as steep as I recall. The path was slippery as well, and contained umpteen trip hazards, in the form of exposed tree roots.

Worse was to come, in the form of mud and lots of it, and my initial optimism that it might be reasonably dry underfoot, soon vanished. I was warned about the mud by a group of ramblers who were making their way up to Frant, after having walked over from Eridge. One look at their muddy boots and trouser bottoms said it all, although it was some way down before I reached the really muddy areas. These were found in the relatively flat bottom of the hollow, where a series of lakes, topped up by a number of streams, makes this an idyllic spot in summer.

The area didn’t look anywhere near as attractive in early February, but I kept plodding steadily on, only to reach a sign which said “Halfway ish.”  Discovering there was a similar distance still to walk, was rather dis-heartening, because whilst this section of the trail was only three miles in length it seemed much longer, thanks in no small part to the muddy conditions underfoot, which made for slow going. A walk which should only have taken an hour, ended up taking nearly two because of the constant need to make ones way around the worst of the muddy areas.

I almost got lost again, although the guidebook did hint that one should bear right, across a stream, and then continue steeply uphill. Having to leave the mud-free, metalled road I’d been walking along, didn’t seem right, but fortunately salvation appeared in the form of a young couple, who knew where they were going. They suggested that I follow them, which I did, but they soon disappeared from sight, being much faster walkers than me. This didn’t matter too much, as after looking at both my map and guidebook, I could see I was on the correct path.

Getting left behind, seems the story of my rambling life, as I am quite a slow walker. This is the principle reason I prefer to walk on my own, as it ends up quite embarrassing when walking companions end up having to stop and wait for me, at the brow of every hill, or area where the path splits in two. And Mrs PBT’s thinks I’m a fast walker! Fortunately, I was on the final straight, and at the top of the final hill I could hear the noise of the traffic on the busy A26.

There was one last hurdle to contend with, and that was a field of sheep, or rather two fields, as they were interconnected. A field full of livestock doesn’t normally bother me, and I have

walked through herds of cattle (including one containing a rather large bull) as well as flocks of sheep, without any trouble. This lot had a look about them though which was far from friendly, and when several sheep came bounding towards me, I had to scare them off by waving my rucksack in front of them. That worked for a while, but as I continued towards the second field, further woolly beasts made their appearance and didn’t look like giving up on me.

Again, waving my backpack and my stick along with raising my voice had little effect, so foolishly or not I made my way towards them making as much noise as possible. They backed away, but then their mates in the second field came funnelling through the gap in the hedge to join the others. Once they were all through the gap, that was my cue to make my way as quickly as possible towards the kissing gate at the far edge of the field, and escape.

I recall a work colleague claiming that sheep can, if alarmed, charge at people with the objective of headbutting them to the ground. This is where the danger lies, because should you find yourself in this unfortunate position, the herd will take great delight in trampling you, possibly with serious and even fatal consequences! Knowing this and determined to show these normally docile creatures who was boss, my tactics of waving things around, shooing them away and looking them directly in the eye worked, and I escaped from the field unscathed.

I double checked the way mark signs plus my map, and was definitely on a public right of way, so technically I wasn’t at fault. One possible explanation for the sheep’s intimidating behaviour could be the lambing season is fast approaching and these expectant mums would soon be giving birth. It makes sense, wanting to protect their unborn from a nasty man, even though his sole aim was to get across their field, to the other side of the road, where a nice welcoming pint of beer was waiting for him.

The Nevill Crest & Gun was indeed just a few minutes’ walk away, and next time I shall tell you about the pub, and how it served me one of the best pints of Harvey’s I’ve had in a long time. 

Footnote: the second sheep picture belongs to another time and another place, but they still look quite menacing, don't you think?