Feeling virtuous

I’m feeling quite virtuous although I’m not entirely sure I should. However, there are times when, after having completed a task that’s been outstanding for a long while, or you’ve accomplished something and are feeling pretty pleased about it, there is nothing wrong with feeling a bit smug.

Mrs PBT’s and I had a long lie in on Saturday morning. We both felt we deserved it, and I certainly needed it, as I haven’t been sleeping too good of late. Something to do with having a few conflicting issues to resolve at work, including covering for a much-missed colleague who felt he had to move on to pastures new.

On Friday night though, I slept like the proverbial log and after surfacing mid-morning we both enjoyed a late breakfast of French toast. Later on, we drove over to the large Tesco superstore at Riverhead, just to the north of Sevenoaks to do some shopping. The store was busier than we would have liked, but with shoppers and store workers all masked up, neither of us felt uncomfortable – apart from having to wear the wretched face coverings, that is.

The virtuous stuff started when we arrive back home, although I’d put the wheels in motion for some of it, a week or so earlier. I’ve always been reluctant to switch energy supplier, especially given the fact that whilst you might get a better deal initially, what happens in subsequent years? Do you need to switch again and again, as all this chopping and changing is not only a faff, it’s also rather time consuming.

This was where the heavily promoted “Look after my Bills” website, came to the rescue. First floated on TV's “Dragons’ Den,” the idea had universal support from all the entrepreneurial “Dragons” that make up the team. This was something of a first, and with my interest sparked I bit the bullet and took the plunge.

The whole process was relatively straight forward, and apart from submitting a couple of meter readings, along with details of current energy suppliers, I am now signed up with a supplier that is offering me dual gas and electricity supply, with a monthly saving of £30. “Look after my Bills” will follow the same process next year, in order to find me the best deal on my energy supplies.

Feeling on a role, I proceeded with a quote received a month or so ago, which will save me £20 a month on home insurance (building and contents), so whilst more time consuming than the energy switch, it was still worth the time I’d put in. With retirement getting closer by the month, every little helps, and £50 a month is not to be sniffed at!

Back to the home front. Last week I dug over approximately two-thirds of our cottage garden wildflower area. It wasn’t the riot of colour we were treated to last year, in fact Mrs PBT’s believes she was sold a pup. Unable, due to lockdown, to access B&M, the source of last year’s wildflower seeds, she bought a rather expensive variety pack online.  Even though I’m sorely tempted, I won’t name the company for legal reasons, but when the pack arrived, I should have smelt a rat.

Now I’m no horticulturalist, but I do know that the genus Festuca denotes different types of grasses, and whilst the pack claimed to contain 19 other plant species, what eventually popped up was largely a mix of grasses, plus some unattractive, tall and spiky plants; "weeds," for want of a better description! There was no sign of the poppies, white campion or even the clovers listed on the pack.

Whether this was due to poor germination – April and May were exceptionally dry if you remember, or just poor harvesting on the part of the seed supplier is unknown, but the company responsible landed us with nothing more than a large and rather unattractive patch of weeds.

They’re all gone now, dug up and dumped in our garden waste bin, awaiting collection by the local authority where they’ll be turned into compost but, after heavy overnight rain, yesterday afternoon’s digging was considerably harder than the previous week’s, and I’m certainly feeling it afterwards.

The main thing is the task is complete and the weather is now doing its worst. This brings me on to the internet and other online tasks I went through yesterday evening. The first of these was to review my Blog List, which details all the many blogs I follow.

The list has steadily evolved over the years, but I review it every so often, to prevent it from becoming too large and cumbersome. It has grown, because I regularly add new blogs which catch my eye and spark my interest. Nearly all are beer related, although the list also includes a gardening/drinking blog, plus one dedicated to walking (another interest of mine).

Conversely there are blogs which, for a variety of reasons, have become moribund.  The owner/writer might have lost interest, moved on to a different niche, their work-life balance may have changed or perhaps they’ve undergone some life-changing event. Over the years I have noticed a fair number of female bloggers who, quite understandably, have discovered that starting a family, leaves very little time for writing, or indeed for visits to the pub, but I’m certain that some of the other reasons listed above, apply equally.

I tend to leave “slumbering” blogs for at least six months before culling them, and there have been cases where I have reinstated a few that have made a sudden reappearance. In such instances, my blog list becomes rather like a revolving door. (I am currently mulling over whether to reinstate Cooking Lager’s blog for the third time.)

Finally, I found time last night to post some topical comments on some of the blogs I follow. This is good etiquette and good manners. All bloggers, me included, appreciate seeing comments appear in relation to posts written. Whether the correspondents agree, or disagree with what is being said is immaterial, as all feedback is good – unless it is insulting, totally off-topic or trolling.

I don’t always get the time to comment as much as I’d like, so yesterday I made time, and I trust that the comments I made will add to the subject or topic raised and will encourage further debate. Those writers who see comments from me, suddenly appearing on their blogs will know what I am referring to but will also understand the time restraints which prevent many of us from contributing as much, or as frequently as we might otherwise like.

 

Good Beer Guide 2022 - physical or digital?

 

I’m not going to write another piece exposing the crooked thinking behind the government’s ever-changing Coronavirus strategy, as that would just be too painful for words. So, what do I write about, especially as there’s not been much happening locally, on the beer and pub front -  at least as far as I'm concerned.

Work has been pretty manic, as following the dramatic fall-off in orders at the start of lock-down, things have swung back the other way, with sales flooding back in like there’s no tomorrow.  I’ve been heavily involved in a major risk assessment, with a couple of my management colleagues, as the plan is to bring the entire workforce back on site, in a phased return, starting from next week.

We’ve made the appropriate changes, and are now as satisfied as we can be that by following the guidelines set out by the HSE, our workforce, many of whom have been on revolving furlough since the end of March, will be returning to an environment that provides a safe and Covid-secure environment.

The fact that our return to work plan has come at a time when infection rates are rising, is not the most encouraging of news, although cases in much of Kent are way below the national average at the moment. We shall see, but as I’ve said before, all work and no play does make Paul a rather dull and very grumpy boy!

This leads me to reference a debate that I partially sparked off on the WhatsApp Beer Socials Group I belong to. The thread was given our illustrious leader has predicted another six months of "nanny-state" imposed misery, will there be sufficient time to prepare the 2022 Good Beer Guide?

“Plenty of time,” said one optimist. “Don’t be so hasty,” said I, and went on to detail the time-frame that goes into the preparation for each years’ edition. Members are normally contacted prior to Christmas and ask to nominate pubs for possible inclusion in the guide. This is normally done by email, so no problem there.

Once all nominations are received, members are invited to survey all the prospective entries, filling in those tedious GBG survey forms that I’m so glad I’ll never have to look at, ever again! Surveying can still go ahead, although limited or restricted opening times must be taken into account. This will take place against a background of will pubs be forced to close once more, or will our increasingly hapless Prime Minister have the good sense to keep them open?

Surveying’s not going to be easy, especially with table-service only. Gone are the opportunities to stand at the bar for a cosy chat with the licensee and gone are the chances to stroll around the pub, soaking up the atmosphere and getting a feel for the place.

Once the surveys are complete the fun really starts, as normally a GBG selection meeting is held, where the choice of entries is thrashed out, and whittled down to the number allocated to the branch. The meeting normally takes place late January - early February and, being CAMRA, it takes place in a pub.

This is where the problems begin. Under Doris’s edict, a maximum of six people are allowed in any one group. GBG meetings often attract numbers in excess of the "magic six," so what happens then? Also, because CAMRA wants to promote itself as a “responsible" organisation, ALL official branch meetings are suspended, until further notice. This includes socials, outings, committee meetings etc, so physical get-together to select GBG entries, are by extension automatically excluded.

Some would argue that such meetings can be held virtually, as indeed they can for the tech-savvy, but trying to coordinate and conduct such a meeting involving any more than a half dozen participants, sounds like a logistical nightmare. Such meetings ae normally lively and impassioned affairs, where discussion and debate play an important role. Trying to replicate this in hyper-space is not going to be easy!

I’m no longer a CAMRA member, so can’t participate in these discussions, even if I wanted to, but unless it’s work-related and I’m forced to, I don’t want anything to do with “virtual stuff.” If I can’t have the real thing, then I’ll go without, so that rules me out from virtual pubs, the virtual Great British Beer Festival and virtual, just about anything else.

Moving on, let’s say a branch has selected and filled its quota of guide entries, data from the scrappy hand-written forms then has to be inputted to a central database – a task CAMRA rather cynically and lazily leaves to individual branches.

Those tedious forms I referred to earlier were originally deigned to be machine-read, which is why they had to be completed all in capitals, and with each letter of every word, written inside its own little box. Boy how I hated those forms, and unsurprisingly they were hard enough for humans to read, let alone machines, so that was a waste of time.

So now, just like 30 years ago, the details for every pub must be inputted manually. Being such a tedious task, in my former branch the job was usually shared between two people. One would read out the details, whilst the other would type it into the online CAMRA database. They would swap at regular intervals.

Now two people from different households are allowed to mix – I think! At least in West Kent where rates of infection are low, but what about other areas that have been placed under a much stricter regime. Two people from different households mixing is practically a hanging offence according to the "boy" Hancock, so there’s no chance of this dual input method being mimicked in these “sinful” parts of the country.

All of the above stages are tedious, at the best of times, but with all these petty restrictions in place, it’s going to be rather tight for many branches to get their entries processed. There’s still a final proof-reading stage before the guide finally goes to print, so before you know it, that’s half 2021 gone already.

Will things have gone back to normal by then, and was this all just a bad dream? I somehow don’t think so, which brings us back to the question will the Good Beer Guide 2022 appear on time, or will it even be published at all.

The consensus on the WhatsApp group was that the guide will be published and will appear in the traditional printed and bound book version. Fine, but what sort of publication will it be? Suggestions were raised during the discussions that instead of surveying pubs, branches could rely on information sourced from WhatPub.

If this is true, the 2022 guide is unlikely to be the fresh, vibrant and up to date that its users expect. If the pandemic lasts into next summer, what’s the likelihood of this “make do and mend” approach to the GBG working second time around? Will CAMRA itself even exist as a cohesive, nationwide campaigning group, or will it disintegrate into dozens of splinter groups, that are little more than drinking clubs?

The next 12 months could prove very interesting, but not necessarily for the right reasons!

 

 

Nanny knows best

I wasn’t going to post anything about HMG’s latest nannying restrictions which, according to our great leader, brought in because the UK population can’t behave itself. Knee-jerk reactions and "gesture politics" seem part and parcel of Mr Bumble’s government, but even so the measures brought in earlier this week are likely to have little or any effect on the rising numbers of Coronavirus infections.

Regrettably, they are much more likely to impact in a profoundly negative way, on the UK’s already struggling pub and hospitality sectors which, after being totally closed for 3 months, have adapted well to coping with control measures such as distancing, hand-sanitising and track and trace. Forcing pubs and restaurants to close at 10pm will do very little to prevent infections from spreading but will have a massive effect on their ability to operate and ultimately their profitability.

Seasoned bloggers such as Pub Curmudgeon and Tandleman have already covered the potential impact of Doris’s latest ad-hoc measures, so I won’t elaborate further, apart from saying the new regulations are petty, spiteful and next to useless and have been introduced by a PM desperate to be seen doing something.

The MSM have been obsessed with Corona virus, since it first reared its ugly head, with newspapers, and other news organisations driving much of the Covid-19 hysteria that continues to dominate the headlines. Having harped on for months about a so-called “second wave,” they’re beside themselves with glee now that infections are seen to be rising.

They’re willing it to happen, and I’d argue they also want it to happen, because bad news sells more copies of their sordid tabloids, (some broadsheets are almost as bad). They also receive more clicks on their equally biased, on-line sites. Not content with spreading mass-hysteria, they’re now pushing for a second lock-down, oblivious to the damage it would cause to an already shattered economy and to people’s general health and mental well-being.

The media fail to realise there are other things out there that can kill us, beside Covid, and in the longer term a broken economy will do far worse damage than this novel-virus. Unfortunately, the media are the ones driving government policy; hardly surprising when you have a populist government, driven by banal, three-word slogans.

The licensed trade and hospitality sectors are easy targets and imposing further control on them not only fits well with their "nannying" agenda, it also complies with the agenda of all repressive governments over the years who wish to prevent people meeting together. If the plebs are allowed to enjoy a few drinks in a pub, this might cause dissent when the peasants start discussing and comparing their lot in life, to that of the ruling classes.

The draconian and spiteful measures brought in under the government’s Emergency Public Health Act, are unprecedented in peacetime, and would be unusual even in times of war. Preventing people meeting others in their own homes, or even outdoors, will split families and cause even more misery, and encouraging people to snitch on their neighbours, really is sinking to a new low.

This behaviour has shades of Nazi Germany, where the Gestapo relied on citizens to shop dissenters, or those they considered guilty of other “crimes” against the state. Their East German successors the Stasi, carried on with this, so that by the time the regime fell, there was a Stasi file on virtually every citizen. People don’t seem to learn from history, as the UK Corona Act 2020, is an enabling piece of legislation that gives the government carte blanche to do what ever they wish, all under the guise of controlling a virus with a mortality rate of 0.5-1.0%.

In the wrong hands such legislation has parallels with Adolf Hitler’s infamous Enabling Act of 1933, which gave him dictatorial powers, allowing him to rule Germany by decree. We are going down a very dangerous road here, and yet many are cheering the government on, with some demanding even more control over their sad and sordid little lives.

Returning for a moment, to the absurdity of 10pm closing. Footage, taken last night in central London, shows hordes of people, all piling out, en masse, from pubs and bars. Crowded together, with no possibility of social distancing, whereas before, when people were treated as sensible adults, they would leave with a slow trickle in dribs and drabs, once they’d had enough or their business had been concluded.

And all because Mr Bumble said pubs and restaurants must close at 10pm!

Minnis Bay

I’d never been to Minnis Bay before, but I must have been near the place on several previous occasions. We ended up there just over a week ago, on the last day of my break from work. Mrs PBT’s brother and his partner were staying in their motor-home, on a nearby campsite, and invited us down for the day, so fancying a trip to the seaside we accepted, and headed in the direction of Thanet.

It was a scorching hot day without a cloud in the sky, so wasn’t the best day to be travelling on Kent’s overcrowded roads, but knowing a few detours, I manged to avoid the M2 motorway which, according to the traffic reports on my phone,  was already showing as congested. Instead, I took the scenic route, but that didn’t quite turn out as planned.

A road closure at Challock, put a spanner in the works, but unless there’s a valid reason, there’s no reason to completely close a busy "A" road. Some abandoned roadworks didn't seem  sufficiently valid,  but thanks to the Sat-Nav on Mrs PBT’s phone, we manged to work our way around the closure; even if the diversion took us down some pretty narrow lanes.

Once on the A299 Thanet Way, it was obvious that much of North Kent, and half of London, was heading in the same direction as us. Fortunately, a significant number of cars exited at the Whitstable turn-off; that particular North Kent town being the local equivalent of Southwold, so in the end we were only about 10 minutes behind our scheduled arrival time. 

Minnis Bay is short distance along the coast from Birchington, and has a sandy beach, which is safe for bathers. Overlooking the beach is the Minnis Bay Bar & Brasserie, a large box-like pub, owned by Shepherd Neame. According to the pub’s website, the Minnis Bay is “newly re-furbished” and certainly has that “just opened” feel to it.

My brother-in-law’s girlfriend had booked a table for 2pm, and the pair arrived shortly after us. Eileen hasn’t been inside a pub or restaurant since before lock-down, so was quite relieved when we allocated a table outside. The fact that her brother and partner had their dog with them, probably helped there, but the tables were all suitably spaced, wiped and sanitised after each group of customers departed.

Our table was in the shade, which was just as well, as I forgot to bring my sun hat along. As is usual at an English seaside location, there were plenty of rather “pink” overweight males, parading around topless. Not a pretty site and giving further rise to the name “gammons.” I wonder how many of these “sweaty oafs,” as my dad would have called them, voted for the UK's biggest “own goal” in several generations?

I’ve noticed subsequently, that Shepherd Neame managed houses all seem to offer the same, standardised menu, but given the current situation there was still plenty of choice. Probably the strangest option was the Chicken Schnitzel, which my brother-in-law went for, whereas Eileen and I played safe with cod & chips, plus beef & onion pie respectively.

I ordered a pint of Whitstable Bay Pale, but as it was chilled to the nines, I’m certain it was keg, rather than cask. I don’t recall seeing any hand-pumps during my brisk walk through the bar, in order to use the Gents – no "One In/One Out" policy, but it’s a toilet for heaven’s sake! 

So, a nice day out, some gorgeous mid-September weather, sea views and an enjoyable pub lunch as well. What’s not to like?  After leaving the pub, we drove the short distance to the campsite where Dave and Lynn’s motor-home was parked. A cup of tea, and some cake then followed before heading for home.

The Thanet Way was bumper to tail in places – hardly surprising given the splendid weather, so prior to joining the M2, I took a much more rural, and far more picturesque route home. The road I chose took us through some unspoilt downland country, through the villages of Newnham and Doddington. The only downside was the sun being directly in my eyes for much of the journey, which took the shine off the drive, if you’ll pardon the pun, as well as making it more difficult.

Our day at the seaside was a nice way to end my week’s “stay-cation,” and as well as allowing us to see a hitherto unknown part of Kent, provided a good chance to catch up with family, whilst enjoying a decent lunch.

The Indian summer is set to disappear tomorrow, with storms blowing in from the Atlantic, but weather-wise, it’s been an incredible spring, summer and early autumn, and something that has made the trials and tribulations we’ve all been experiencing these past six months, that little bit more bearable. 

 

 

 

 

 

Bridging the gap on the North Down's Way

My recent week off from work, afforded the perfect opportunity to knock off a further section of the North Down’s Way long-distance footpath. The weather was dry and sunny, and with a stiff breeze to help keep temperatures down, turned out to be the perfect conditions for walking.

The section I chose was the next stage along from Cuxton; the position I reached in July, at the end of my previous walk. This time though I would be walking east to west, rather than the other way around; my choice  dictated by the availability and frequency of public transport at each end. 

I set off from home just before 8.30 am and walked down to Tonbridge station. There was a direct train through to Maidstone at 9.05 am, so I waited for that to pull in, before boarding.  The Medway Valley Line is one of the prettiest rail routes in the south east following, as its name suggests, the course of the River Medway as it winds its way up towards the Thames Estuary.

I wasn’t going that far, alighting instead at Maidstone Barracks; one of three rail stations in the county town. A footpath leads up from the Barracks station to the high-level bridge that carries the other rail line into Maidstone, over the Medway and also across a busy dual carriageway that leads up towards Chatham.

Maidstone East station was my goal, as it was from there that my pre-booked taxi would be waiting for me. That was the plan, but due to a misunderstanding with the person who took the booking, there was no taxi. Maidstone East is undergoing a major rebuild, with the former Victoria pub that once fronted the station, now completely flattened and nothing more than a memory.

The construction work also meant that the taxi rank had been moved, and when I eventually found it the handful of taxis parked up there had no record of any booking for Mr Bailey. A quick call to the taxi company revealed the reason why, but I still fail to see why, having booked a pick-up at 09.50, the operator should think I meant 09.50 in the evening.!

Weren’t these people familiar with the 24-hour clock? If I’d wanted collecting at ten to ten in the evening, I would have said 21.50, but obviously not in Maidstone! The taxi firm despatched a cab for me, more or less straight away, and the driver and I were soon speeding out of Maidstone and towards the bottom of Blue Bell Hill.

As someone who watches the pennies, I’m a very infrequent user of taxis, but by taking a cab I saved myself a three mile walk along a busy dual carriageway (A229), just to connect with the start of the NDW. These were

three miles I would rather spend walking across the downs or through woodland, rather than having my ears blasted by traffic noise and my lungs filled with exhaust fumes. The ride also saved me an hour and a quarter’s walking, so from all points of view, was money well spent.

The driver dropped me outside the Lower Bell pub, on the Old Chatham Road. It was slightly higher up than I’d intended on starting from, but it didn’t matter, and after getting my bearings, I soon managed to pick up the NDW. This first section was all uphill, but largely through woodland. The trees provided some welcome shade for the already intense heat of the sun, but a quarter of the way I followed a gap in the hedge for a look at the Kits Coty House.

This is a stone structure, dating from Neolithic times, which once formed the entrance to a long barrow, used as a burial chamber, and is one of the best-preserved examples remaining in this part of the country. After pausing briefly to take some photos, I continued back up towards the top of Blue Bell Hill, eventually reaching the picnic area and viewing point at the top of the escarpment.

I stopped there for a while taking in the panoramic views of the Medway Valley, far below, and also drank deeply from my “Chilly’s” water bottle, with its nice cool contents. The path follows a road along the escarpment, in a north-westerly direction for several miles, dipping in and out of areas of woodland. A track opposite a path leading up from the village of Burham, will take visitors to the Robin Hood pub. This isolated hostelry is hidden from the road, but a signpost gives a clue to its presence.

The time was just after 11.30 am, so I doubted the pub would be open. It was also far too early into the walk to be stopping off for a pint, however tempting it might be. I continued along the road, which slowly turns into more of a track. It also changed direction, heading now almost due north, and starting a slow descent as the same time.

Eventually I came out of the trees and was rewarded with a view of the Medway valley and the impressive Medway Bridges. The NDW makes its way towards these structures which
carry the M2 motorway and the HS1 high-speed rail line, across the River Medway. A shared footway for pedestrians and cyclists runs alongside the northside of motorway, separated by barriers and fencing.  From a height of 116 feet above the river, it affords spectacular views towards Rochester, two miles away, and of the boats on the Medway below.

I was relieved to be walking across in dry and warm weather, as the crossing feels very exposed. There are also several strategically placed signs, erected by the Samaritans, which serve as a poignant reminder that a number of troubled souls have chosen to end things by throwing themselves off the bridge. 

Once across, away from the immediate roar of traffic and out of the wind, I took a left hand turn onto the A228, which then crosses the M2 and HS1 by means of a bridge. Eventually I turned off into Ranscombe Farm Reserve, where I found a conveniently sited bench, sheltered from the wind by a small wood. It formed the ideal spot for me to stop and eat my packed lunch.  I was famished by this time, but there had not been a comfortable or indeed suitable place to stop beforehand.

My chosen spot was a nice little suntrap as well, as I rested my weary

legs and tucked into my cheese sandwiches. I also had a rewarding view out across the Medway, with the bridges still visible from my vantage point. I was glad to have brought a hat with me, given the heat from the sun but as I felt my arms starting to burn, I thought I’d better get moving again.

I re-joined the path and continued past the quaintly-named,  Merrals Shaw Wood and then Ranscombe Farm, before descending into a deep combe. The path then led slowly back up and across the main Rochester-Victoria rail line and then into a hosing estate on the edge of Cuxton. This was close to the hamlet of Lower Bush where I had entered the village on my previous walk back in July.

A mile’s walk along Bush Road took me past a row of shops and then into the centre of Cuxton. It was then a short hop to the station and the train back home to Tonbridge.  I only had a short wait for the train so, as before, there wasn’t time to call in at the White Hart pub.

That’s another 10 miles knocked off the North Down's Way, but there’s still a fair way to go, not least of which is the 25-mile section from Blue Bell Hill down to the River Stour and the village of Wye. I would like to complete this stretch by the end of the year so I will feel that at least I 

have accomplished something during this strangest of years. I will then be able to complete the NDW by continuing from Dunton Green, just north of Sevenoaks, to the end of the trail at Farnham on the Surrey-Hants border. 

This does of course,  depend on what "knee-jerk" restrictions the hapless UK government come up with because, as I sit here this morning, putting the finishing touches to this piece, "Mr Bumble" and his side-kick, Matt Hancock, "the boy blunder" are contemplating further draconian curbs on our civil liberties. Watch this space - preferably from 2 metres away!!

Bank Holiday Monday - Part Two

The second pub on our August Bank Holiday Monday walk was also a food-oriented establishment.  It is also part of a chain, the Whiting & Hammond group, whose other pubs include the Little Brown Jug in the village where I work, the King’s Head at Bessels Green, near Sevenoaks and, slightly further afield, the Cricketers at Meopham.  I’m not certain as to when W&H first acquired the pub, but it was a well-known and independently owned free house when I last visited.

The pub in question is the intriguingly named Nevill Crest & Gun at Eridge
Green. The building is approximately 500 years old, with a history to match. The Nevill family are said to have arrived with Duke William of Normandy and have lived at nearby Eridge Park ever since. The Nevills are also known as the Earls of Abergavenny – and that, of course is the name of the first pub in nearby Frant, that we visited the same day.

The walk between the two pubs took us through the attractive, and “wild, but managed” grounds of Eridge Park, with its lakes and areas of woodland. Effectively the walk took us from the A267 Tunbridge Wells – Eastbourne road, to the A26 Tunbridge Wells – Lewes highway. It was an area unknown to me, but I quickly warmed to the charm of the landscape.

My only concern was after a long, and steep descent through woodland from Frant, we would have an equally long ascent as we approached Eridge. Fortunately, geography was on our side and the climb back up to the A26 at Eridge was much gentler. The ornamental lakes at the bottom of the valley were particularly attractive and, judging by the families and other groups out walking, I wasn’t the only person who thought so.

Upon reaching, and crossing the busy A26, we located the bus stop, just to the south of the pub, and checked the times, as the No. 29 bus would be our

means of conveyance back to Tunbridge Wells after visiting the pub. It was then just a short 5-minute walk to the Nevill Crest & Gun, but before entering we dutifully waited outside for someone to greet us, thereby complying with the Covid rules.

We were then met and conducted through the pub, to a table in the garden, at the rear of the pub. We had requested a seat outside, but such was the haste that we were led through the pub interior, there was scant time to take in the beer offerings. I noticed a Gun Brewery beer and also one from Canterbury Ales, but not being a fan of the latter, I played safe, when it was time to take our order, and went for Harvey’s once again.

Most customers were sitting outside anyway, but given the Nevill’s extensive garden, the distances between tables was not a problem. Two people from our group opted for something further to eat; the excuse being that the sea bream option on the Abergavenny’s menu hadn’t come with much in the way of accompanying carbohydrates.

Fortunately, my battered cod had come with a decent portion of chunky chips, so I was still quite full. We stayed for a further pint, before heading back to the bus stop and the double deck bus back to Tunbridge Wells. The No. 29 bus runs between Tunbridge Wells and Brighton and is operated by Brighton & Hove Buses and provides a relatively cheap connection between the two towns, as well as intermediate stops at places like Crowborough, Uckfield and Lewes.

We then caught the train back to
Tonbridge and stopped off at the Nelson for a couple more cheeky beers, before going our respective ways back home. It had been a good day out and an enjoyable day out, despite the sole coming away from one of my boots. A hair band provided by my friend’s wife saved the day and both boots have now been repaired.

I would though, like to have seen a little more of the interior of the Nevill Crest & Gun, so perhaps when this Covid nonsense is over, I will.

 

Bank Holiday Monday - Part One

A fortnight ago now – August Bank Holiday Monday to be precise, I joined up with four friends from our WhatsApp Weekend Walking Group, for a cross-country walk to two pubs, situated to the south of Tunbridge Wells. This was my first time out with the group since a ramble to the now, sadly closed, Rising Sun, at Cotman’s Ash, which took place at the end of January.

How things have changed since then, but with the nation’s pubs now re-opened, albeit under certain restrictions, and passengers actively encouraged to use public transport once more, our walk began with a short train trip over to Tunbridge Wells, where we met up with the fifth member of our party.

The first pub on our list was the Abergavenny Arms at Frant, where a pre-booked table awaited our presence for lunch. Our route took us up from the station, skirting the rather upmarket “village area” of the town, before heading through Camden Park and into the area of the town known as Hawkenbury.

We then skirted a new, and rather controversial housing development, which will include a new school, whilst adding nothing in the way of badly needed, affordable housing. After passing the periphery of the Nevill Golf Club, we were in open countryside, before reaching an area of dense, mixed woodland.

A steep climb up through the trees then followed, before eventually finding ourselves in the grounds of the Church of St Alban, Frant. A walk along Church Lane brought us to the main A267, Tunbridge Wells – Eastbourne Road, and our lunch stop destination, the Abergavenny. According to my Smart Watch, we had covered a distance of 5 miles, but this figure was disputed by the person in charge of the walk.

No matter – it felt like 5 miles, and keen walkers should note that this part of the walk, and the second section to Eridge Green, in the main followed the route of the Tunbridge Wells Circular Walk, a 27 mile route that takes in some of the best and most scenic countryside, around the Spa town.

The Abergavenny Arms is a former coaching inn, parts of which date back to the 15^th Century. Whilst it is unashamedly a diners’ pub, it does cater for drinkers in the area around the bar. The layout had changed since my visit two years previously, in order to make the pub more Covid-compliant.  In common with most other pubs, congregating in front of the bar was not allowed, and to reinforce this the tables and chairs in this area have been removed.

We all had our temperatures taken before entering the pub; a pointless exercise as after being told I was allowed in, I asked what the actual reading was (no-contact, infra-red beam pointed at my forehead).  Without even a trace of irony, the greeter replied 34.5° C. “That’s good,” I said, suppressing a wry smile, because if that was my body temperature, I would have been suffering from hypothermia!

After the obligatory dollop of hand-sanitiser, we were shown to our table next to the window, and suitably distanced from others nearby. We were handed a pre-printed menu, plus a pencil, so we could write our group choices on.  The former wide range of cask beers had been reduced to just one; Harvey’s Sussex Best, which was fine for me, but not quite as popular with one or two other members of our party. 

Looking around though, most of the other diners were either drinking wine of keg Peroni so, as I pointed out, the pub was doing the right thing by cutting back on the cask range.  As with the beer, the food range had also been reduced; a sensible move under the current circumstances.

Despite some of the more exotic items on offer, I plumped for good old battered cod and chips – rather pricey at £16, but a snip once the Chancellor’s 50% discount was applied. The meal was good, wholesome and tasty, and went well with an immaculately presented pint of Harvey’s, which was so good that I ended up joining my companions by ordering a second.

The pub was as full as it could be under the current restrictions, with the numbers being swelled by other groups sitting outside. The whole thing was well-organised and well thought out, so full marks to the team at the Abergavenny.

We’ll take a break here, but there’s another, slightly shorter, but no less interesting walk to follow, along with a different, but equally good pub. Furthermore it was a pub I hadn’t been to for the best part of 25 years! 

To be continued................................