The Primrose is an attractive weather-boarded pub which
is around five minutes walk from my house. Although it is situated on a busy
thoroughfare leading into the centre of Tonbridge, the Primrose has its own
car-park, as well as a patio area at the rear for those who enjoy a pint
outdoors during the summer months.
Internally there are a number of different drinking areas,
separated by partitions and the odd half-wall. Low beamed ceilings and exposed
brickwork help give the pub a cosy feel, aided by homely and comfortable
furnishings.
In recent years, the Primrose never seemed to realise its
true potential, so it wasn’t overly surprising when it closed its doors for the last
time, back in August. The pub is currently boarded up, awaiting an uncertain
future (see below), which is a sorry fate for what was once a thriving little pub.
I first became acquainted with the the Primrose during the early
1980’s. Back then it was a typical drinking man’s pub, with two bars of almost
equal size, and a central serving area which catered for both public and saloon
bars.
I have fond memories of drinking there, as once a week
(always on a Thursday), I would join a couple of work colleagues for a
lunchtime drink at the pub. The pub was their choice, and I was never quite
sure why they chose it, as it wasn’t within walking distance. Instead it was a short
(c. 5 minutes), drive away.
My two colleagues were Peter, the Work’s Engineer, and his
assistant Pat. Peter was in his late 50’s, and Pat probably in his mid to late
30’s. I was the youngster of the group, having just passed my mid 20’s, and was also a bit of an interloper, as
the pair were like father and son.
I was also the Company Chemist, and for whatever reason the
pair took a bit of a shine to me, probably because we used to interact during
the course of our work; so knowing that I liked a pint, they invited me to join
them for their regular Thursday lunchtime drink.
Pat invariably acted as chauffeur; driving us there and back in his
bright orange Ford Capri, but with the transit time taken into account, our time in
the pub was limited to around 50 minutes. This was because both my colleagues had to be back in time to “clock
in”. As salaried employee I was exempt from this practice, but as I was reliant
on Pat to get me back to work, this exemption was somewhat irrelevant.
One thing which never changed though, was us always buying a
round each. Three drinkers, meant three pints and somehow we managed to knock
them back during the limited time we were in the pub. I would often manage a
sandwich as well, as I have never liked drinking on an empty stomach. Looking
back, it’s a wonder any of us stayed awake during the afternoon shift, but I
don’t recall there being any problems
The Primrose was a smashing little pub back then. It probably dated from Victorian times, and had a real homely feel to it; much more so than it
did during its latter days, when the bars were knocked through into one, and
the serving area was moved to one side.
The landlord’s name was Nigel. He had a slight
cheeky-chappy look about him, but we rarely saw him, as he wasn’t often present
at lunchtimes. With Nigel absent, most of the time, the task of looking after
us thirsty punters fell to Sue, the lovely and comely barmaid, who always gave
us a warm welcome and a friendly smile. She also had a dry sense of humour and
was not someone to be trifled with, as I’m sure some customers found out to
their cost.
Apart from Sue, the Primrose’s main attraction was its
well-kept Fremlin’s Bitter, brewed by Whitbread at their Faversham plant in
north Kent. Fremlin’s
was a good quaffing bitter, which packed plenty of taste into its relatively
low strength of 3.5% ABV.
Even so, I’m certain that after three pints, our chauffeur Pat
would almost certainly have been over the limit, had he been stopped and breathalysed
on the way back to work. As for me, I worked out that by the time I finished
work, three hours later, I would be OK to drive back to Maidstone,
where I lived at the time.
Times change and in the spring of 1985, the company we worked
for, sold off a substantial part of its business and the three of us were made
redundant. We all went our separate ways. I’m not sure where my two former
colleagues ended up, but I secured a laboratory placement working for a
pharmaceutical company in Lamberhurst, on the Kent-Sussex border. I also
re-married.
My marriage led to me moving to Tonbridge, to a house within
walking distance of the Primrose, but
with our little group scattered, and me working 10 miles down the road, I had
little reason to frequent my former haunt.
Towards the end of the 80’s, I learned that Whitbread, the
Primrose’s owners, had carried out an
extensive re-modelling of the pub’s interior, knocking the two former bars
through into one. I paid a visit along with a friend from CAMRA, and didn’t
really like what I saw.
The alterations were as described above, but to me rather
than adding to the pub, they took something away, in the form of both character
and atmosphere. I think it was from this
point on that the Primrose’s fortunes began to decline, assisted by a
succession of inexperienced or unsuitable licensees.
The pub changed ownership as Whitbread
retreated from brewing and sold off their tied estate. In recent years it was
owned by an outfit called Pendry’s Pubs Ltd. The company own at least two other
pubs in Tonbridge, but trying to find anything out about them is no easy task,
as their website is not very informative, and is also rather out of date.
The succession of unsuitable licensees continued, with each seemingly convinced that a diet
of Sky Sports, karaoke, fancy dress evenings and lunchtime food were what was
needed to draw the punters in. Unfortunately the pub was too small for the
big-screen, which meant football tended to dominate everything, when a match
was being shown.
Fortunately I managed to escape the
karaoke evenings, but darts evening were also a bit of a nightmare. I remember my local CAMRA
branch attempting to hold a committee meeting in the pub whilst sat just a
few inches away from where the players were aiming at the board. The darts team
also demanded silence, whilst play was in place, so the meeting was not particularly successful.
Successive licensees kept
trying to inject some life into the place, and I lost count of the number of
times I drove past and saw yet another sign advertising the pub was “Under new
ownership” and also serving up "Home Cooked Food". The idea of food on weekday lunchtime was a total
misreading of not just the local market, but the national one as well. There
are few factories left in Tonbridge, and most of the offices are located slap
bang in the centre of the town. Not only that, but working people just don’t
go to the pub of a lunchtime, like they did when I began my career, nearly 40 years
ago.
Harvey’s Sussex Best was the sole cask beer, and a sensible choice, as
the beer has a strong local following. The quality was variable, although to be
fair to the pub, I never had a bad pint there. The problem was though, that with
changing habits and a the loss of several large employers in the town, the
Primrose was on a hiding to nothing.
On several occasions I remember walking
by, late on a Saturday evening, on my way home from a night out elsewhere, and
seeing the pub virtually deserted. Sometimes the place was shrouded in
darkness, after having shut early. This must have been heart-breaking for the
new owners, who were probably already struggling.
As I said at the beginning of this article, I was not
surprised to see the Primrose closed, even though I found it very sad. The pub
could have had a future by being turned back into a traditional alehouse;
perhaps even a largish micro-pub, without the "Herne
strictures" applied..
Sadly the following planning application has been lodged
with the local council. 18/02488/FL | Demolition of the existing
primrose public house and redevelopment of the site to provide 4 no. dwelling
houses and 2 no. apartments with associated access, parking, infrastructure and
landscaping | Primrose
Inn 112 Pembury Road Tonbridge Kent TN9 2JJ.
You can click on the link yourselves and
take a look, but the developers claim the pub was trading at a loss, and had been
for years. They also claim the building is in a state of disrepair and would
need further investment and additional floor space to remain as a public house.
So unless a fairy godmother appears, clutching a large wad of cash, it really does look like the Primrose's days are numbered, and another small, old-school beer-house of the type which was once commonplace will be consigned to the dustbin of history.
So unless a fairy godmother appears, clutching a large wad of cash, it really does look like the Primrose's days are numbered, and another small, old-school beer-house of the type which was once commonplace will be consigned to the dustbin of history.