Sunday 4th July - was something happening elsewhere?

A busy weekend and a successful one too, marked the beginning of July, and a two-day break that literally flew by in a flash.  The primary objective was a pre-booked trip to the dump or, as it is properly known, the Waste Transfer Station (WTS). It was something that had been at the back of my mind or sometime, and when it actually came to it, the whole process a lot easier than we’ve been led to believe.

As with many people, the two lockdowns gave me the opportunity for a good sort out of items that had accumulated in various corners of Bailey Towers, and the three main areas were the summerhouse, the garden shed and the greenhouse – ranked in descending order of importance. I had made several lists, that I eventually merges into one and then gradually added to.

So far, so good, but there was then the problem of having to book a slot in advance. It was here that the horror stories of a six week wait had first started circulating at work. I would be needing son Matthew’s help with both the loading and the unloading of the car, with the former proving, as forecast, the most arduous, but as he only discovers his roster, a week in advance, that part of the process was looking rather difficult.

It was only after looking on the KCC website that I discovered there were plenty of available “slots” at our nearest WTS, at North Farm, Tunbridge Wells. I booked a slot for 12.30pm on Sunday, knowing that Matthew had the day off from work, and whilst this involved giving details of my postcode, vehicle registration number, make and model of vehicle, the whole process was surprisingly easy.

After the seemingly obligatory shopping trip, most of Saturday was spent locating, sorting, and then loading into the back of the car, items ranging from a rusty old wheelbarrow, a garden table and chairs, a fold-up bed and mattress, an old computer, plus a rather large CRT type television. The latter was by far the heaviest and the most cumbersome, so I left that until Sunday morning, when Matthew was available to help. I managed the other items, by myself, although it did take most of the afternoon.

I needed Matthew’s help to carry that CRT television down the stairs, and for a heart-stopping moment, I thought it wasn’t going to fit in the back of the car. Fortunately, it did, following a spot of moving things about, so fully laden we set off for the tip.

Unloading the car and throwing the various items of accumulated household “junk” into the appropriate container took far less time than the sorting and loading. There was also something strangely satisfying about the whole process, especially when you know as many of the various “waste streams” are actually recycled, so mission accomplished, we drove back towards Tonbridge, but not before checking out the location of, and the parking arrangements for the vaccination centre, where Matthew was due to attend, for his first Covid vaccination.

The Tunbridge Wells Reserve Army Barracks is conveniently sited next to the town’s swimming pool and sports centre, so knowing where he had to attend on Tuesday evening, with dad acting as chauffeur, meant Matthew knew where he was supposed to go. Afterwards, we decided that a pint would be in order, but which pub should we choose, bearing in mind that many would be busy with the Sunday lunchtime dining trade.

Matthew suggested hoovering the back of the car out first, using the allegedly powerful pay-as-you go vacuums at the Three Elm Lane, BP garage to the north of Tonbridge. There is something about the pride young boys take in the appearance of their vehicles, that is the complete opposite to the older generation, so I went along with his idea, only to find that the vacuum machine we pulled up alongside, was hopelessly under-powered.

We gave up on that idea, after wasting a quid, and decided that the nearby Carpenter’s Arms might be worth stopping at. A look at the extensive carpark, that was full to capacity, told us otherwise, so we continued along the road towards East Peckham.  The Bell at Golden Green, looked OK, but with the flags flying for the football, had the appearance of a real locals’ pub.

Nothing wrong with that, as Life after Football will tell you, especially if you want to soak up and revel in the banter, but if, like us, you just wanted a quiet drink, then probably not the right place. Instead, we drove on, until we came to the Man of Kent, at Little Mill – a pub that received a brief mention in last month’s post about the nearby Bush, Blackbird & Thrush.

As luck would have it there were spaces in the car park, at the rear of the pub, so after utilizing one of them, we approached the front of the pub, as the notices instructed, and waited for someone to attend to us. That didn’t take long, and although we were informed that all the tables inside the pub were fully booked, there were plenty of spaces outside.  

This suited us fine, and we chose one over-looking the stream (actually the River Bourne), that runs alongside the pub. As the name “Little Mill” suggests, there was once a mill nearby, on the opposite bank of the stream. Suitably seated, and our contact details taken – I’ll be glad when this nonsense is over, we ordered our drinks.  From a choice of Tonbridge Coppernob or Harvey’s Best, I chose the latter. Matthew asked which lagers were available, and on hearing the name “Guinness,” inextricably chose a pint of the “black stuff” because he thought Guinness might brew a lager.

They do, of course, but it’s called "Hop House," so quite why the barman chose to rope Guinness Extra Stout in with the lagers, is beyond me. Matthew enjoyed what was almost certainly his first pint of Guinness, and ended up buying the round as well, after my card was declined twice. I had the same problem in Waitrose, on the way home, although my payment did go through with chip and pin.

We spent a pleasant half hour or so, enjoying our drinks out on the riverside terrace. I popped inside, ostensibly to use the facilities, but more so to have a look at the pub interior. The low ceiling beams inside the 16^th Century Man of Kent, are definitely a case of “duck or grouse,” even for a shortie like me, but the pub was pleasantly full with diners, enjoying their Sunday lunches.

It was good to see the pub busting and full of people enjoying themselves, after the lean period of the past 14 months. It was good also to renew my acquaintance with this historic and picturesque old inn.

Footnote: photos of discarded or unwanted household items, don't exactly add to a post, so instead, I've included a couple of shots of our wildflower garden. This corner of the garden has really come into its own, following a slow start, due to one of the driest (and coldest) Aprils on record.

The beautiful game?

This is a short post, that has been lifted from a much longer article I have been writing. In the light of recent sporting events, it deserves a spot of its own, so here goes.

Saturday evening was spent watching the England v Ukraine match on TV, in the company of Mrs PBT’s. Like me, she is something of a fair-weather supporter, and like me is someone concerned about the hypocrisy of the whole thing. After last Tuesday’s Wembley clash with old rivals Germany, played before a crowd of 40,000 spectators, we couldn’t help noticing the lack of social distancing. is was in stark contrast to Saturday’s game against Ukraine, played in Rome, where there were clearly plenty of empty seats that were marked as,  “off-limits.”

Then there was the perhaps understandable euphoria when the England goals came, along with the jumping, shouting hugging and other forms of social contact that have been expressly forbidden during the two lock-downs. If an example was needed, we were restricted to just twelve mourners at dad’s funeral, back in early February, and all forms of singing – including hymns were prohibited.

Some might say the latter was a good thing, but contrast that with a load of drunken idiots screaming and jumping for joy, hugging, and kissing all and sundry within their reach. Now I’m not a “do-gooder,” and neither am I an apologist for the control freaks at SAGE, but at the same time I want this pandemic to be properly over in time for the lifting of restrictions in two weeks’ time. 

Something tells me that isn’t going to happen, so in the meantime, can someone tell me why large-crowd, sporting events are suddenly acceptable, seemingly without any form of control, but if I want to go out for a drink with a mate, at a local pub, tomorrow night, both of us will need to wear a mask when we enter the building (there were no masks worn at those football games), and we will have to (by law), supply our contact details.

There are double standards here, and the undoubted driving force is money. The same financial induced hypocrisy will also be evident at the Tokyo Olympics, which are going ahead in a country that is still in the grip of a Covid epidemic, whilst at the same time being in denial that there is a problem.

Rather strangely, other events such as rock concerts, that attract large crowds, are still on hold, so it seems very much a case of one rule for some, and different ones for everyone else. Don’t get me wrong, I want to get back to normal as soon as possible, but only if it makes medical sense to do so.

What none of us want to see, are Covid cases continuing to rise, followed by the spectre of yet another lock down. UEFA and the IOC are desperate not to lose revenue, by restricting these major sporting events, but when this comes on top of all the sacrifices small businesses have had to endure (particularly those in the hospitality sector) and puts at risk the gains, so painfully won, then you have to call into question the motives of these people.

 

Quantock Brewery reaches new milestone

Just over a week ago, I received an email from a nice lady who runs the PR company, that looks after  Quantock Brewery. She wondered if I would be interested in running a story, on the blog, about the latest beer from Quantock, produced to celebrate the company’s 1500^th brew.

The new beer is a limited-edition beer, called Milestone 1500, and the brewery describe it as a Mountain IPA. That’s not a beer style I’ve come across before, or indeed heard of, but it’s said to blend West Coast bitterness with East Coast smoothness.

We’re talking about the United States here of course, but Milestone 1500 is inspired by Quantock Head Brewer and Co-Founder Rob Rainey’s recipe for the brewery’s 500^th brew. The original hop combination of Centennial, Citra, Columbus, Mosaic and Simcoe has been used with a different yeast strain to gives a fruitier complexity to the beer. Milestone 1500 is described as having a smooth mouthfeel, citrus, and pine flavours with notes of peach. It has an ABV of 6.5% .

That’s enough beer-geek stuff for the time being, as the most important part is what does the beer actually taste like? The original communication did say samples were available on request, so on the basis of if you don’t ask, you won’t get, I rather cheekily asked for some. This was in return for an honest write-up on the blog about the new beer specifically and Quantock in general, and to enhance the story, I also asked for a few photos.

I’d been aware of Quantock Brewery, for some time, primarily because their beers seem to feature quite regularly on Flavourly. Because of this connection I'd been tempted to order one of the latter’s mixed cases, but then Pippa’s email arrived out of the blue.

The beer arrived first, after being given the thumbs up by Quantock Brewery’s senior management. What’s more, there were nine x 440ml cans, all looking very striking and modern. The selection included Milestone 1500, plus lots more very appealing sounding beers, including QPA – Session Pale Ale 4.0%, Titanium West Coast IPA 5.1% and Lager Than Life dry-hopped, lager 4.6%. Also included in the case are several other beers, each show-casing a single hop variety.

I’m looking forward to cracking a few of these cans open, when time permits, but here’s my take on Milestone 1500, the beer the press release was all about. Fruity and smooth, with plenty of mouthfeel, alongside ample citrus and pine flavours, set against a background of really juicy malt. At 6.5% , the beer packs quite a punch, but is still a pleasant and refreshing drink.

With the launch of the new beer following in the aftermath of the pandemic, Cheryl Ford, Managing Director and Co-Founder of Quantock Brewery commented, “With everything the last 18 months has brought, it has felt at times like we’ve had mountains to climb, but like many other businesses we’ve tried to keep innovating to survive and focus on our customers. Investing in our onsite canning line last summer meant we’ve been able to keep the beer flowing, keep up with demand and keep on creating new beers. Thanks to everyone who continues to support us, and I feel incredibly blessed to be able to welcome you back to our Taproom. Here’s to the next 1500 brews!” (Cheryl is pictured below.)

In a bid to provide some background material for this article, I also carried out some research into Quantock. The brewery was set up in December 2007 in Wellington Somerset, by Rob Rainey, who is still head brewer. Rob’s philosophy was to brew beers of the highest quality, using the finest natural ingredients.

In June 2015, due to continuing demand, Quantock Brewery moved to a larger facility at Bishops Lydeard, Somerset, alongside the southern terminus of the West Somerset Railway. The new site allowed them to not only to produce more beer but to also open a brewery shop and taproom.  

In February 2017, Quantock Ales received a major cash investment that enabled the team and the new investors to continue brewing not only their well-respected range of traditional ales whilst at the same time pushing forward to create new and exciting beers. This coming together of new and old allowed Quantock’s new range of modern craft, hop-led style beers to sit alongside their long-established, traditional beers.

The brew house is an 8-barrel size with 8 fermenters allowing Quantock to produce 5 brews per week and over 2,300 pints per brew. Currently the brewery can produce over 160 casks or 11500 bottles per week. Recently the brew house has started producing kegged beer supplying over 40 key kegs a week.

Getting back to the beers I’ve been sent, if they are every bit as good as the Milestone 1500 I’ve just enjoyed, then I look forward to sampling to sampling the others. I’m also tempted to book a break in Somerset’s Quantock Hills, especially as it’s a part of England I don’t know particularly well. That way I can try a few of the brewery’s more traditional cask ales, whilst at the same time familiarising myself with a new and different part of the country.

Fuggles ticks all the right boxes

Sunday looked as though it was going to be a complete wash-out, and whilst the day started off OK weather-wise, it wasn’t long before the drizzle started. This put paid to my carefully laid plan for cutting the grass, after breakfast.

Like the kind and considerate husband I am, I helped Mrs PBT’s with the housework instead, hoovering the house from top to bottom.  The vacuuming is usually my job anyway, but there was the added incentive this time of using our brand-new Shark, cordless hoover.

After several frustrating months of struggling with an underpowered, under performing and slowly dying cordless Dyson, the super-efficient Shark made the hoovering a doddle; although I won’t go so far as saying it was a pleasure! I also changed the bed linen, a task I still struggle with.

I then grabbed some computer time to compose a couple of emails, before looking at options for replacing the brittle and yellowing Perspex windows on the summerhouse. So, all in all Sunday morning was what I’d call a “doing day.”

That’s enough of this domestic stuff, as with the chores out of the way, I could head off to the pub, with a clear conscience. So, after making myself a quick sandwich, I informed Mrs PBT’s that I was off down the town, to pick up a couple of items missed from the previous day’s grocery shop. She of course, knows me better than that and quickly sussed out I was going to the pub, but as I said to her, “Why not?”

Why not indeed, it had been a long hard week, and a couple of hours in one of Tonbridge’s pubs would do me the world of good, but which one to choose? One thing was certain, I wanted to avoid the football – not that I’ve got anything against the beautiful game, it’s just that this time around, the Euro’s hold no interest for me whatsoever. Nothing to do with me having drawn North Macedonia, in the work’s sweepstake – I mean they didn’t even pick up the wooden spoon and end up bottom of the pile, denying me a £7 consolation prize.

The football meant the Nelson, the Forester’s, the Chequers, the Punch & Judy, the Man of Kent, and the George & Dragon were all out, which just left the Beer Seller and Fuggles. The latter won hands down, and not just on the choice of different beers. The Beer Seller is good at showcasing cask, whilst Fuggles offers a much wider range of different beers, including keg and foreign examples. Finally, I find the Beer Seller, with its alcoves and low, artificial ceilings, slightly claustrophobic, as opposed to Fuggles, which is far more open, bright and spacious.

Fuggles it was then, but not before diving into Sainsbury’s for those missing items, followed by a quick call into Matthew’s shop, Robert Dyas, for a couple of packs of screws. Dyas wasn’t particularly busy, but had what I wanted, and with the staff discount that Matthew enjoys, well worth calling in at.

Fuggles didn’t seem that busy either, and this allowed me a choice of where to sit. The friendly and knowledgeable member of staff, allowed me to sit at one of the window tables and this gave me an uninterrupted view of the whole pub.  After taking my details – no Dido Harding, failed track & trace App for me, I made my choice from one of the printed beer menus, which adorn every table.

I opted for a pint of Session Pale Ale from Cellar Head, and this did not disappoint. Cool, well-conditioned and bursting with flavour, this pale and refreshing straw-coloured pale ale from this Flimwell-based, local brewer, really was cask ale at its finest. I’m unable to submit beer scores, these days, due to me no longer being a member of CAMRA, but his one was approaching 4.5 NBSS.

I sat there savouring his excellent pint, and watching the comings and goings, as customers entered or left the premises. I reflected that this was my first visit to Fuggles, as a drinker since last summer. I had popped in during early December, last year, when the pub was functioning as a bottle shop, but with no garden, or indeed any real outdoor drinking space, Fuggles was only able to reopen to customers on May 17^th.

Another beer was called for, and this time I went for a keg option, in the form of Milk Shake from the strangely named Wiper & True Brewery. As the name suggests, this is a milk stout, produced by this Bristol-based outfit, and along with lactose and chocolate malt, vanilla pods are included in the brew. It may sound like a real cliché, but this beer really was pure silk in a glass.

I made that my last beer as I wanted to cadge a lift home from Matthew, after he’d finished work. Before leaving, I nipped to the Gents, stopping on the way for a brief chat with one of my old customers from the off-licence.

I definitely made the right choice, calling in at Fuggles, and I will certainly be back. As an added incentive, I have a £15 voucher to
spend in the bar, as a reward for being a loyal subscriber to FUGSCLUB - Fuggles home-delivery beer service, which I wrote about here. The club has been providing me with a selection of top-class dark ales, each month, and in fact I am drinking one now, as I write this piece, Heart of Chambers, from Dublin-based Whiplash Brewery is an excellent coffee and oatmeal, double porter, but at 7.5%, it’s definitely not a session beer!

 

A rare lunchtime pint

Regular readers of this blog will be aware that it’s a very rare occasion for me to visit a pub at lunchtime, when I’m working. There was a time, 30+ years ago when a lunchtime drink was a relatively normal experience, especially on a Friday, but those days have long gone, with many companies and organisations forbidding the practice altogether.

I am fortunate to work for a company where the occasional pint at lunchtime is perfectly acceptable, and no one will bat an eyelid. However, it is not exactly common practice, and as much as I enjoy my beer my lunchtimes normally consist of a brisk 35-minute walk in the delightful Kentish countryside. This is followed by a period of unwinding in front of my PC, with a cup of tea and my sandwiches, once I am back in the office.

These days there’s also the strong chance that a lunchtime pint will cause me to nod off at my desk. So rather than risk this happening, I try and keep business and pleasure, separate. Occasionally I do fancy a change, and last Wednesday was one of those days. I’m not sure why, but for some reason the appeal of a beer at lunchtime, entered my head and wouldn’t go away.

I didn't fight the feeling and instead I thought, why not? The sun was shining, and outside of our air-conditioned premises, it was a pleasant and warm summer’s day, so at 1pm sharp, I headed off, up the hill, to walk to the Greyhound at Charcott.

This was only my second visit to this local since pubs were permitted to re-open in April. It was outdoor service only back then, and whilst now customers are allowed to drink indoors, I still opted for a pint in the garden. It’s probably to do with being cooped up in an office all day, but with the sun shining, and the outside temperature just right, I could think of nothing finer than a pint outside.

I checked in, taking a quick look at the beer menu, as I did so. The latter was thoughtfully written out on a chalkboard outside, and there were several different choices. The young man who signed me in, said that Gun Brewery ‘s Chummy Bluster had just gone on sale and there was also a black IPA from Kent Brewery. Neither appealed.

Chummy Bluster is by far my least favourite of the Gun Brewery range, having sampled most of them during the first lockdown, courtesy of Flavourly.  Black IPA is a ridiculous, American fake beer style, and also an oxymoron, because how can a "pale ale" be black? Fortunately, local favourite Larkin’s Traditional, was also on tap, so after placing my order with the staff member, I headed off into the garden at the side of the pub.

There were a few drinkers, and the odd diner sitting outside plus, as far as I could make out, a few others in the pub itself. There was no sitting at the bar of course, as was the normal practice at the Greyhound, prior to the start of the pandemic.

Back in the garden, the majority of the tables were in the shade. With shades of "mad dogs and Englishmen," I managed to find one where I could sit in the full glare of the sun. You might too if you’d been stuck indoors all day, or you might be more sensible!

My pint arrived, looking slightly hazy, and with hindsight, perhaps I should have taken it back. There’s a problem doing that under current rules, when one is not supposed to approach the bar, but as luck would have it, the Larkin’s was perfectly drinkable, even though it wasn’t quite the pint I’d been craving for earlier.

I sat there soaking up the sun, and enjoying my beer, but all the while keeping a slight eye on the time. It was good just to be there, especially as there is something special about sitting out in an English pub garden, whist enjoying a well-crafted pint of English draught beer.

All things come to an end, and it didn’t take long for me to finish my pint, so after attracting the attention of a different staff member, and setting up with cash, I headed back to work. There was still time to make a cup of tea, grab my sandwiches and have a working lunch, sat in front of my computer. It wasn’t quite the ideal pint, but in the lottery that is sometimes cask ale, it wasn’t too bad either.

A couple of things to consider. Under normal circumstances, I don’t like rushing my beer, and having to keep one eye on my watch, isn’t my idea of a relaxing time. This wasn’t normal circumstances, as having spent the last couple of months beavering away at work, and at home – or rather in the garden, I really deserved to let my hair down.

Grabbing a swift lunchtime pint, was hardly doing the latter, but with my successor at work, settling in well, and most of the major garden projects drawing to a conclusion (there’s still the shed roof to re-felt), proper lunchtime sessions should begin to become much more common.

CAMRA redeems itself?

The following post might seem like an unashamed plug for CAMRA, and whilst to a certain extent it is, it is much more a call for drinkers, pub-goers and club-goers, to support their favourite local watering hole, brewery or cidery. This is in-line with what CAMRA are saying, with their latest promotion.

It comes after what has been a disastrous fifteen months for the Campaign for Real Ale which has not only seen the organisation’s income fall off a cliff (primarily due to not being able to run beer festivals), but has also seen the Campaign involved in an embarrassing series of blunders and faux pas.

The most notorious gaffe was the infamous Coronavirus-themed commemorative glass, for the equally pointless “virtual” Great British Beer Festival, but there have also been serious allegations of bullying, along with the promotion of a “toxic culture” at a senior level within the Campaign.

I wrote an article about the Coronavirus glass, last year, and also lambasted the idea of a “virtual GBBF,” but have no intention of getting involved with the bullying allegations (shades of Brew Dog?), but what I will say is the news story I am about to reveal, represents a real chance for CAMRA to redeem itself, especially in the eyes of those members who claim the organisation is promoting beer festivals at the expense of pubs.

As I’m sure most of you will know by now, the Campaign for Real Ale’s flagship Great British Beer Festival (GBBF), normally held in August at the London Olympia, has been cancelled, for the second year running. This is due to uncertainty surrounding the ongoing coronavirus pandemic. 

The cancellation is not unexpected because, even if restrictions on social distancing and mask wearing are lifted next month, there would be insufficient time to organise and stage such a large-scale event. Instead, CAMRA is urging people to visit pubs this summer, and support them, following a year of restrictions that has pushed many of them to the brink.

The organisation is encouraging licensees to hold events and activities celebrating real beer and real cider, as part of a Great British Beer Festival at Your Local event, which will take place from 30 July – 8 August, just a week after the revised date that restrictions are supposed to end. 

The aim is to increase footfall to return to pubs and clubs and increase demand for brewers and cider-makers. In previous years, the Great British Beer Festival has attracted over 38,000 visitors, so the thinking is those beer and cider lovers will come out to support independent and local businesses. 

This support is particularly important in a year that the industry needs it most, and in the absence of the usual, single national festival, the plan is that CAMRA GBBF at Your Local, will shine a light on the best that the nation’s pubs, clubs, breweries, and cider producers have to offer.

CAMRA claims that this grassroots, nationwide festival hits right at the heart of the Campaign, and is encouraging pubs, clubs and breweries to host a range of activities, over the 10-day period. These

Suggested activities include: 

Bringing in special guest beers 

Putting on mini beer festivals 

Arranging meet the brewer sessions and tastings.  

Promoting cask conditioned real ale and real cider. 

Brewery tours 

CAMRA has also advised that these events can be submitted via the GBBF at Your Local website and will be promoted on dedicated GBBF social media channels throughout the summer. Pubs and clubs can also contact their local CAMRA branch to assist them in setting up their events, and online and printed marketing materials will be available from July onwards. Go to https://local.gbbf.org.uk/ to find out more. 

Great British Beer Festival Organiser Catherine Tonry said: “We’re delighted to be able to bring the Great British Beer Festival to the pubs, clubs and breweries that have worked so hard to stay afloat in the toughest of years. We hope that beer and cider lovers alike will make their way down to their local to celebrate in whatever way they can, be that trying a brand-new tipple, learning first-hand from brewers, or attending their local mini festival.”  

“This is a great opportunity to raise a glass to all the brilliant publicans, staff members and patrons that have helped the beer, cider and pub industry to survive throughout the pandemic. Though we can’t get together at London Olympia for the second year running, we hope that people will take to their locals to get involved with the GBBF at Your Local experience. Let’s get back to the pub today!” 

It will be interesting to see how many pubs clubs and breweries heed CAMRA’s call and run the type of events the Campaign is talking about.

Golding Hop, Plaxtol - a lost rural treasure

In the recent post I wrote about the White Horse at Sundridge, I mentioned the journey that took me past the pub, back in the early 90’s.  This bumper to tail, traffic nightmare was the result of my being seconded to another company, within the same group as the one I worked for in Tonbridge, in order to complete an important project.

The nature of the project is immaterial to this narrative, but I’m happy to say it was successful. Whether it was worth me spending three months of my life in Hounslow, is open to debate, but it did enable me to save quite a bit of money in the process. This was because, to save on travelling, the company put me up in a hotel for four nights a week, and this was on an all-expenses paid basis (within reason).

This was to compensate for me being away from my wife and home comforts, but I made up for this by getting to know a few of the local pubs. Most Friday evenings, on the journey home to Maidstone, where I was living at the time, I took the opportunity to call in at whatever pub, along the way, took my fancy. This way I got to know quite a few of the pubs between Westerham and Maidstone, and various point south of the A25.

One pub I remember with particular fondness was the Golding Hop, just north of the village of Plaxtol. I briefly mentioned this classic old inn, towards the end of the White Horse article, and just thinking about the place, prompted me to write this piece.

The Golding Hop was a true time-warp pub, and I say “was” because sadly, the Hop closed its doors for the last time, back in 2016, following the retirement of long serving licensees, Eddie and Sonia. The couple had looked after and run the pub for just over twenty-five years, before finally calling it a day.

Located in an unbelievably idyllic rural setting to the north of Plaxtol, the Golding Hop offered gravity dispensed beers and ciders, simple and good value for money food, in surroundings that have not changed for many a year. The pub itself is built into the side of a hill, overlooking a narrow lane, and is over 300 years old. There was a large garden opposite, with facilities such as swings, climbing frame etc. to keep families occupied; an important point to note, as whilst dogs were allowed in the pub, children were not.

As well as beers served by gravity, from casks stillaged in a room behind the bar, the Golding Hop was famed for its cider. Alongside well-known brands, such as Weston’s the pub produced its own "rough cider", from a recipe that had been handed down over the years from one licensee to the next.

I can still picture my first visit to the pub 40 or so years ago, one evening on my drive home from Hounslow. It was dark, so I don’t know quite how I managed to navigate to the pub, on my own, without puling over to look at the map. What I do know is I approached the Golding Hop from the north, turning off the A25 at Ightham, and then continuing along the A227, towards Tonbridge.

As the road descends steeply from the Greensand Ridge, towards the village of Shipbourne, there was a sign, directing thirsty travellers to the Golding Hop. I drove long that road the other day and I am pretty certain the sign is still there. I do remember it being a wild and windy night; something that added to the appeal and the atmosphere of the pub that time.

By following my nose, I arrived at the Golding Hop, more by accident than design, and after pulling up in the large car park opposite, made my way inside. After spotting a vacant table, I made my way to the bar and ordered myself a beer. It was probably a pint of Young’s Ordinary, but four decades on, I cannot be certain.

There were a few locals sat either close to or actually at the bar. The took precious little notice of me, and I of them. The wood-burning stove was lit, and this provided a warm, welcoming, and cosy feel to the pub. I ought perhaps to have appreciated this feeling more, as most subsequent visits took place during the summer months. These would have been post 1985, which was the year I moved house, from Maidstone to Tonbridge.

I recall one such visit where a group of us sat outside on the small terrace in front of the pub, enjoying the late spring sunshine. We had taken the bus to nearby Plaxtol, and then walked the last mile or so to the Golding Hop. On the way we enjoyed some spectacular views across the Bourne Valley, to our right.  Another visit saw us walking from Ightham Common, where we’d spent a couple of hours at the equally unspoilt Old House. The latter remains a timeless classic and has enjoyed something of a renaissance under its new owner.

It was a comparison of the beer quality between the two pubs that really opened my eyes to what, for a long time, had been the Achilles Heel of the Golding Hop. Both pubs use gravity dispense, and both pubs keep their beers in a room out the back, but the Old House uses a cooling system, and the effect of this was clearly evident in the temperature of the beer and its subsequent high quality.

Unfortunately, the Golding Hop had no such facility for keeping the beer cool, and this often had a negative effect on beer quality, particularly in summer. I’d go as far to say that, over the years, variable quality beer was a downside of the Golding Hop, in my experience at least. The pub had been voted West Kent CAMRA Pub of the Year back in 2004, and there were many CAMRA members who wouldn't hear any criticism of the pub's beer.

On that particular visit, those with their heads in the sand had to agree that the Adnams Best, and also the Gale’s Seafarer's, really weren't up to scratch. Beer quality aside, a visit to the Golding Hop was always something to look forward to, and the charms of its rural idyll in summer, and the cosiness, of the pub’s interior in winter, with its low beamed ceilings and wood-burning stove were equally appealing.

A small, limited menu offering basic pub-grub of the chips and baked beans with everything variety, was another attraction and was always good value. The beers too were always competitively priced, but it was the setting and atmosphere of the pub itself, that were the main attractions.

Landlord Eddie was another attraction, and quite a character to boot. You had to take him as you found him, and whilst some regarded him as cantankerous, I never had a problem with him. Eddie was definitely part and parcel of what made the Golding Hop tick but running the pub day in and day out for 25 years, must have been hard work. It came as no surprise then, when Eddie and Sonia finally decided to call it a day and take that well-earned retirement.

A look back at this blog, over the years will turn up several posts where the Golding Hop was either the sole pub visited or, the main one, so it was particularly galling to learn of its closure. I’m not really certain what happened when the couple finally left the pub, but the rumour was they only leased the place, rather than actually owning it.

An online search reveals that the Golding Hop closed on 22nd September 2016, and its alcohol licence was surrendered. The new owners submitted plans to open a coffee shop in its place, and this appears to be what happened.

The premises are now listed as the Golding Hop Tea House, and photos on TripAdvisor show it as a rather twee-looking establishment, with soft-furnishings, distressed wooden chairs, and patterned tablecloths. A far cry from what it was five years ago. The same site indicates that it has now permanently closed. Perhaps that was the plan all along, but why turn a popular and successful rural pub, in such a charming and idyllic setting, into a chintzy tea shop, in the middle of nowhere?

If anyone does know the true story behind the pub’s conversion, or indeed any news regarding Eddie and Sonia, perhaps they could let me know.