We don’t do Christmas ales properly in this country!

Source - Harvey & Son Ltd

We don’t do Christmas ales properly in this country. I was prompted to write this piece, after reading a post that appeared on my phone, early on Christmas morning. The post came courtesy of Irish blogger, The Beer Nut who, after spending several Christmases in England, had developed a bit of a hankering for them.

He qualified that last statement by saying that they weren’t especially good, but it was more the experience than anything else. After his stays in England, he was somewhat surprised to find four Christmas Ales on sale, at his local JDW, back in Ireland.

A review then followed which highlighted that only one of these ales really stood out - Donner & Blitzed, a dark ale, from Milestone in Lincolnshire. I replied along the lines that there is something about the majority of UK-brewed Christmas ales, which invariably disappoints, as very few of them are brewed to a decent strength. I added the comment that no self-respecting Christmas ale should look like yet another bog-standard, pale ale.

In what seems like a case of history repeating itself, I wrote a similar post as far back as 2012, lamenting the lack of a decent Christmas ale, here in the UK, asking why can’t we turn out anything decent for the festive season? I went on to say that more often than not, many Christmas Ales turn out to be bog  standard, uninspiring, malt-led, brownish bitters in the 4.0 – 5.0% strength bracket. Far too many of today's festive offerings are pale in colour (sometimes even golden!), low in strength and low on taste. The only thing Christmassy about them is the name on the pump clip, and all too often that is a silly pun or spoonerism with a dubious Christmas connection.

On that last point, there have been some quite excruciating names for Christmas ales over the years, with appalling puns, double entendres, unashamedly sexist themes and even some out and out smut. If you don’t believe me, then check out the Pump Clip Parade website for details of some of the worse ones, but being serious for a moment, beers brewed to commemorate the festive season really do deserve better than a rash of cringe-worthy and rather juvenile, school-boy jokes.

So, what do I look for in a Christmas beer? Well, a decent strength to start with; ideally something around 6.0% and certainly nothing below 5.0%! I also like my Christmas ale to be dark in colour (preferably darker than ruby), full-bodied and well-hopped.

Other countries manage to deliver on this front, in particular Belgium with many breweries putting out seasonal stunners, whilst over in Bavaria many brewers produce strong, seasonal Weihnachtsbier, named after "Weihnachten" the German word for Christmas. These normally run in at anywhere between 6 & 8% abv, not quite as strong as the Belgian offerings, many of which get into double figures, but they are all good, full-bodied beers designed to keep out the cold.

Perhaps that’s the problem here in the UK, as we don’t get really cold winters, or if we do then the cold snap normally doesn’t last that long. Consequently, few beers come near the sorts of strengths common on the Continent, although Harvey’s Christmas Ale hits the spot for me at 7.5%.

It’s a perfectly balanced strong dark bitter-sweet ale, satisfying and warming, but obviously a beer to be treated with respect but, as I alluded to earlier, it’s rare to find a beer this strong in Britain, especially on draught. I have also in the past, enjoyed Hook Norton's Twelve Days, another fine dark ale, not as strong as Harvey's, but still a welcome sight on a pub bar.  Old Dairy Snow Top, is another beer well worth looking out for, and whilst this dark and warming 6.0% abv Winter Ale, is not exclusively brewed for the Christmas period, it is still much appreciated at this time of year.

Whilst researching my original article, I came across a specially commissioned article on Christmas Ales, written for pub chain Wetherspoon’s house magazine by respected veteran, beer writer Jeff Evans. who at the time was the author of CAMRA's Good Bottled Beer Guide. The article began with a look back to those times, as little as 35 years or so ago, when Christmas was the only time of the year one could expect to see something different on the bar apart from a brewer's mild, bitter, and possibly best bitter. 

He contrasted this with the situation at the time of writing, when there is a whole plethora of so-called Christmas Ales weighing down the nation's bars.  Jeff picked out a few of his favourites, and whilst he did make mention of the silly Christmas-themed puns, he was conscious that he was writing a commissioned article for JDW, so didn’t come down too hard on the names, or the weak strength, of some of the beers,

I can certainly remember when the situation that Jeff harks back to; a time when Christmas Ales really were something special, rather than just a slightly reddish coloured best bitter with a silly name and equally silly pump clip. Whilst I obviously welcome the far greater availability of seasonal ales today, I do feel that the whole Christmas thing has been dumbed down and lost its meaning.

I’d like to end on that note, and square the circle, so to speak, as I’ve just cracked open a bottle of Shepherd Neame Christmas Ale. The Faversham-based brewery produce a Christmas ale every year and have been doing so for as long as I can remember. I was in the VI^th form when I first came across the beer, and then, like now, it was only available in bottled form.

A friend of mine told me about it, and I recall us both trying a bottle in the Royal Oak, at Mersham, to the east of Ashford. I was intrigued at the time, that a brewery would produce a beer especially for Christmas, and this more than anything, was what persuaded me to try it.

I can’t remember what the beer tasted like, or how strong it was. It might seem incredible, but back in the early 1970’s, there was no requirement to declare the ABV or Original Gravity of any beers. Consumers were left totally in the dark as to how strong, or indeed weak, a beer might be. Brewers often used this to their advantage, by giving the impression that a particular beer was stronger than it actually was. They also used this lack of visibility to reduce the strength of their beers, without informing consumers, or passing on the cost savings generated by the reduction.

I said that I couldn’t recall the strength, but I do remember being surprised that the beer was relatively pale in colour. Despite knowing virtually nothing about beer at the time, I at least expected that a strong beer would be dark in colour. I do remember though, the distinctive label on the half pint bottles that the beer came in, as it featured a group of musicians, wrapped up warm against the cold, and holding a lantern aloft, as if the guide the way.

Fast forward nearly 50 years, and I have a 500ml bottle of Shepherd Neame’s current Christmas Ale in front of me. Brewed to an abv of 7.0%, the beer is amber in colour, and is packed full of a blend of crystallised fruit aromas, set against a background of spicy hops. Like I said, things have turned full circle, as far as Shepherd Neame’s Christmas Ale is concerned, and it’s good to come back to the place that I started my infatuation with Christmas Ale, almost a half century ago.

Christmas Day 2021

Christmas 2021 has, so far, been fairly similar to that of 2020. This is hardly surprising seeing as we are still in the midst of a pandemic. A few months ago, it appeared to be on its way out, but the nasty little blighter had a sting in its tail and has returned with a vengeance.  Admittedly, for the time being at least, restrictions aren’t any way as stringent as they were last year, but there’s still a feeling of wariness over mixing too much with our fellow human beings, and that is having an effect on the number of people leaving the sanctuary of their own homes.

That said, the Bailey family doesn’t tend to stray far from home at Christmas time, as all three of us prefer to enjoy the festivities within the comfort and familiar surroundings of our own four walls. However, with 12 full days away from the workplace (three of which have elapsed already), I just know that I will go stir-crazy if I don’t manage to get out and about.

The weather is looking pants at the moment, and the forecast for the next 10 days isn’t much better either. It appears that we are stuck with a series of rain-bearing fronts moving in from the Atlantic, across the bulk of the country, that will bring a gloomy end to what for many, has been a gloomy year.

I had planned to get some walking in, and I probably still will because, as the saying goes, there is no such thing as bad weather just inappropriate clothing. All the same, it’s not much fun making one’s way through the rain and the mud but having said that it would be immensely satisfying to knock a few more miles off from the still to be completed, North Downs Way. The end is nearly in sight, as far as that endeavour is concerned, and with around 35 miles left to cover, I should be walking into Farnham, to claim my end of trail certificate, sometime in the spring.

Meanwhile, on the home front, the kitchen cupboards are full to bursting point, which ties in with my theory that there’s something in the female psyche that goes with the hunter-gatherer instinct, which is to make sure the family doesn’t go hungry. We’re not going to go thirsty either (at least Matthew or I won’t), as there’s sufficient beer in the house, to float the proverbial battleship!

Talking about beer, I decided not to bother with a mini keg this year, as even though the contents of a 5-litre mini keg will keep for a week or so, it does get a bit boring sticking with the same beer over an extended period, especially when there are so many other beers to choose from. So, it’s bottles and cans only, instead of draught, but with a myriad of different beers I’ve managed to accumulate over the course of the past few months, I won’t want for variety.

It’s interesting that some of these bottles have been kicking around for several years, and they include an admittedly shrinking selection of monastery beers from the St Bernardus brewery, at Watou in Belgium, plus various other strong ales and barley that I’ve accumulated over the years. There’s an Imperial Stout from Gadd's, and another strong stout from Three Legs Cross, whose brewery I visited with Retired Martin, back in February 2019. No doubt most of these will be drunk over the course of the Christmas break.

As for the main event, there were just the three of us sitting down to an excellent roast turkey dinner, and it’s been the same for quite a few years now. I’m not complaining, as despite what traditionalists might say about Christmas being a time for family get together's, I’m not convinced. I’m also sure that I’m not alone in this. My father much preferred to spend a quiet Christmas in his own home, but dutifully went along with my mother, who liked to keep open house, or go off visiting other family members – normally that of the youngest of my two sisters.

Poor old dad used to end up driving all the time, and whilst he was never much of a drinker, missed out on the enjoyment of a beverage or two with his Christmas dinner. I can sympathise with that, as when I first moved in with Mrs PBT’s, some 36 years ago, her sister used to host the extended family at Christmas. With Eileen not driving, Christmas day was usually a pretty sober affair for me.

Yesterday was similarly restrained as whist I did rather over-indulge on the food front (I do the enjoy the vegetables and all the trimmings that go with Christmas diner), I was quite restrained on the drink front. After getting up late, we decided to skip breakfast. Mrs PBT’s got the turkey ready and in the oven, leaving Matthew and I to "pig-out" a bit on nuts and nibbles.

After exchanging and opening our presents, I found myself rather
tempted by the Terry’s Chocolate Orange that was included amongst my gifts. Chocolate and beer are not a good combination, so I had a mug of coffee instead. It wasn’t until the dinner was almost ready to be served that I cracked open a beer – Thornbridge Jaipur. Pale, hoppy and bursting with citrus and other fruity flavours, this was a good beer to start off with, and one to stimulate the appetite – not that it needed much stimulation!

I then opened a bottle of Fuller’s 1845, a beer that requires little in the way of introduction, and one which rarely does it disappoint. This fine, full-bodied, and well-hopped amber ale has accompanied my Christmas dinner for more years than I care to remember, so much so that it has become something of a tradition.

Also, as in previous years, we ordered our Christmas “bird” from Messrs. Wait & Rose, and true to form, they once again came up trumps. Mrs PBT’s cooked the turkey crown to perfection, and after letting it “rest” for the requisite time, served up some really tasty, juicy and succulent slices of meat. This, along with plenty of roast potatoes, roast parsnips, sprouts, broccoli, red cabbage, pigs in blankets, bread sauce and plenty of gravy, meant that once again, she had certainly done us proud.

I was unable to resist the temptation of "seconds," which meant leaving the Christmas pudding until the evening, and whilst I had intended accompanying the pudding with a bottle of Rochefort 10 that I’d left out on the back step to cool, in the end, I opted for coffee. My thinking was that whilst the rich, dark and nutty flavour of this 11.3% Trappist Ale, would have gone well with the vine and other fruits of the pudding, the sweet and creamy brandy sauce it was drowned in might have rather spoiled the match.

There was the usual dross on the TV, but as Mrs PBT’s is something of a tele-addict, there was no escape the run of “celebrity nonsense” and “Christmas Specials.” One thing that continues to puzzle me, is why does it always snow in these dreary series? It rarely snows in real life, any more at Christmas, so why do these lovey producers and directors think it has to in their “make believe” worlds?

We watched the re-make of the H.E. Bates “Darling Buds of May” series, the one starring Bradley Walsh, as a very different Pop Larkin, compared to that portrayed by David Jason. My curiosity had been sparked, after walking in onto the film set at West Peckham, back in October, and as someone familiar with this tiny village, I could see why it had been chosen as the backdrop to the Christmas Special.

The programme was slated by the critics, but if you accepted it for what it was, and just let your imagination run freely, then it was the ideal piece of light entertainment to round off Christmas Day. Whilst watching the episode, I enjoyed my final beer of the evening - a bottle of Aecht Schlenkerla Märzen, Bamberg’s best known, and most distinctive Rauchbier.

It was the perfect beer to round off the day, and on that note, I wish everyone a happy, peaceful, prosperous, safe and above all healthy New Year.

Tonbridge gets its own Christmas market

After the doom and gloom of the previous two posts, here’s an article designed to raise your spirits and bring some much-needed festive cheer into your lives. No surprises that it’s Christmas related, but it’s Christmas in a good way.

It kicks off with a visit Mrs PBT’s and I made nearly a fortnight ago now, to Tonbridge’s first ever Christmas Market.  Held in the grounds of the town’s historic 13^th Century castle, and billed accordingly as Castlemas, the market was just the tonic that Tonbridge needed in the run up towards Christmas. It certainly brought a touch of festivity to west Kent from northern Europe.

Christmas markets have a long tradition in central Europe, having originated during the late Middle Ages in the German speaking part of the continent. They gradually spread to other parts of Europe, as well as continuing to grow in their region of origin. In Germany for example, there were around 950 such markets during the 1970’s, and this figure had grown to around 3,000 by 2019. The number of Christmas markets in the UK has also increased dramatically, trebling from about 30 in 2007, to more than 100 a decade later.

The best-known Christmas market in the UK, as well as one of the longest running, is the Birmingham Frankfurt Christmas Market. It is the largest authentic German Christmas market outside of Germany or Austria and offers a wide range of traditional goods and gifts, alongside equally traditional food, and drink. Bratwurst, Schnitzels, roasted almonds, and gingerbread, all washed down with authentic German beer, Gluhwein, or hot chocolate.

Tonbridge’s first steps into the Christmas market tradition might still have a fair way to go, but it was pretty good for a first attempt. There

were plenty of stalls, housed in traditional wooden huts, featuring crafts items from local businesses, as well as a wide range of tasty snacks and goodies. Eileen bought a beret from Penny’s Boutique, a clothes emporium run by two sisters she knows, and there were plenty of other stalls, all waiting to take your money.

Of more interest to me, was the Jingle Bell Bar, a beer tent sponsored by and featuring beers from Constellation – the town’s newest brewery. They even had their newly launched Castlemas Ale on sale.  I forwent the beer in favour of a coffee, as I planned to pop back later without the car. As things turned out, I ended up at the Nelson instead, but that’s a different story.

There was also an entertainment venue, in the shape of the Igloo Theatre, a large inflatable hall, shaped like its namesake. The igloo was doing a roaring trade, with mums and their young children, queuing up to meet Santa Claus. The punters changed in the evenings with a diverse range of different acts, including several tribute bands. Judging by the reports I the local press, and also on social “meejah,” the event was a success, and well-received by local townsfolk.  There is every chance then, that it will return next year and become a welcome part in Tonbridge’s build up to Christmas.

I have been to a number of European Christmas markets, including those at Nuremberg, Rothenburg, Prague, Salzburg and even Barcelona. That last one though, didn’t really work for me, as even in early December the temperatures in Catalonia were in the high teens, and this didn’t exactly contribute to the “Christmassy” feel. The others though, all had the atmosphere, and presence,  one would normally expect during the run up to Christmas.

Nuremberg was the first of these markets that I visited, as part of a coach trip to Northern Bavaria, back in December 2007. I had joined the trip primarily because the famous brewing town of Bamberg was included on the itinerary, rather than for the Christmas markets, but after spending a rather beer-fueled lunchtime in the former, I re-boarded the coach which took us on to Nuremberg.

I didn’t actually spend that much time looking around the market, even though it is one of the largest and best known in Bavaria. Instead, I climbed up the hill and had a good look around the city’s most impressive medieval monument, and one which dominates the skyline. The Kaiserburg, or Imperial Castle, was a potent symbol of the power and importance of the Holy Roman Empire of Germany, with Nuremberg ranking as one of the empire’s most important cities.

I only had time to see a fraction of this massive fortress, although I was able to see quite a bit more, on a return visit eight years later, but the following day there was another Christmas market for the coach tour party to visit. The location was the fairytale medieval town of Rothenburg ob der Tauber, built on a hill, overlooking the Tauber River, to the west of Nuremberg.

The picturesque, and atmospheric cobbled stone streets, together with the half-timbered centuries’ old houses, of this compact town, embodies most peoples’ idea of Christmas, so it is small wonder that Rothenburg is the fifth most visited tourist attraction in Germany. The Christmas market, known in German, as the Reiterlemarkt, is held in the heart of the Old Town, in front of the City Hall, in the central marketplace.

With a light snow flurries falling, driven by a cold easterly wind, the Reiterlemarkt was certainly the place to get into the Christmas spirit, fortified by a cup of hot chocolate, and a lengthy Bratwurst, that must have been a foot long, in an equally lengthy, crusty bread roll. It was also the place to help dispel the hangover I was suffering from, due to the previous day’s over-indulgences. I could have stayed all day, but to the south of Rothenburg, there was another picturesque Franconian town for us to visit.

Dinkelsbühl is another attractive old town, but is more work-a-day, and less of a tourist attraction than its better known, northern neighbour. By this time though, I fancied a beer, and so after a stroll around the streets of Dinkelsbühl, including a look at the impressive, old town walls, I found a small pub, selling a locally brewed beer, thereby giving the Christmas market a miss. If truth be known, nightfall had arrived, it was rather cold, and I just fancied finding somewhere warm where I could relax, with a beer, before re-joining the coach for the journey back to our hotel.

That coach trip represented my introduction to German Christmas markets, but unfortunately the only photos I have of that mini break are a stack of non-digital images, taken on my trusty old Pentax 35mm SLR camera. Consequently, the majority of the non-local photos on this post, were taken on subsequent family trips to Prague and Salzburg.

Looking back at them has made me feel rather nostalgic for a touch of the run-up to Christmas, spent in the cold of a central European location, but given the current Covid-induced, travel restrictions, there is no point in getting all misty-eyed over past memories.

The pandemic has obviously taken its toll and this year, many German cities have once again been forced to cancel their Christmas markets, due to rising Covid-19 levels. Bavaria has canceled all such events, throughout the state and now, following the spread of  the Omicron variant, Germany has imposed tough quarantine restrictions for all visitors from the UK, as have several other European countries.

So fingers, and everything else crossed for next year, although given the proliferation of Christmas markets, here in the UK in recent years, there is no real need now to travel abroad to experience them, unless, of course you want some proper Christmassy weather!

Events are overtaking us - as they often have a habit of doing

It looks like my idea for a follow-up post, about the threat of a new lock-down, has been overtaken by events, so I’ll keep this one short.  I spent much of yesterday first helping Mrs PBT’s getting things ready for Christmas, before heading outside to tidy the garden, thereby taking advantage of the dry and relatively mild weather.

Consequently, I missed much of the news, and whilst that’s no bad thing, I gradually became aware that the lock-down story wasn’t going to go away. Hints and snippets had been surfacing throughout the day, even so I wasn’t that aware of them until I came in from the garden.  

These news snippets were all about a two-week lock-down, a so-called “firebreak,” which would commence the week after Christmas, and help slow the seemingly exponential spread of the Omicron variant of Covid-19. The reports were keen to emphasise that it wasn’t the government that were calling for these measures, but rather it was the scientists, advisors and so-called “experts” of SAGE who were insisting it was essential to curb social mixing in non-work-related indoor situations.

The government haven’t denied these stories, even though they would have to rely on the Labour opposition again to get such measures through Parliament, but they are content to let them run, as it plants a seed in the minds of the population at large. The fact that a large chunk of the population is susceptible to this sort of persuasion emboldens not just the politicians, but the control freaks of SAGE.

What we are seeing now, is very much “lock-down by stealth,” and the Johnson administration (or what’s left of it), are playing quite clever, for once, as this policy makes it appear that it is the people who are asking for another lock-down, rather than the government who are imposing it. Both SAGE and the UK government, seem to be ignoring the World Health Organisation, who state that lockdowns don’t work, but with a jittery British public chasing their heels, both parties may have felt compelled to act.

People are already taking heed of Chris Whitty’s ill-timed advice to restrict their socialising, with pubs reporting cancellations of parties, and other celebratory events, and Fuller’s announcing the closure of 20 of their busiest pubs in the capital. Locally, we have seen one prominent Tunbridge Wells pub, reporting that they will not be opening now until Boxing Day, but that might be a short-lived re-opening, because if the rumour mill is true, this so-called firebreak will come into effect on December 27^th.

I checked briefly this morning, and apart from the very welcome news of Brexit Minister, Lord Frost’s, resignation, there seemed little in the way of updates. That could all change once the Sunday morning discussion shows get going. I shall be giving them a wide berth, although I expect Mrs PBT’s will be glued to one or more of them, in between the usual cookery shows.

I’m off out with the boy, over to Tunbridge Wells, so he can pick up a few, last minute Christmas things. Perhaps we can find a hostelry whilst there, to enjoy a drop of festive cheer, while we still can – “suitably distanced,” of course!

 

Here we go again - but this time it's lock-down by stealth!

With Christmas fast approaching, we unfortunately seem, once again, to be on familiar territory.  Think back to last year when after categorically stating that Christmas celebrations would go ahead as normal, Prime Minister Johnson was forced into a dramatic U-turn.

Things had been developing for some time, with the alpha, or Kent variant of Covid-19 spreading rapidly across the country, bringing in its wake a wave of hospitalisations and deaths. In the face of mounting evidence, Johnson was forced into re-imposing restrictions on the hospitality trade, travel, workplaces, shops, and businesses along with strict rules about families mixing, outside their own “bubbles” (stupid term). In short, the PM was forced into an embarrassing U-turn and had to “cancel” Christmas - something he said he would never do.

Things were very different back then, as the roll-out of an effective vaccine against Covid-19 was in its infancy. 12 months on, and with most of us having received at least two shots of vaccine, and a substantial number having received a third dose – the so-called “booster” vaccine, you might be forgiven for thinking we were nearing the end of this wretched pandemic.

And so, it appeared, but just over three weeks ago, news broke about a “variant of concern” that had been discovered in South Africa. This heavily mutated Corona virus, notated by the Greek letter Omicron, was spreading rapidly and was likely to be heading our way.

Fortunately, the government acted quickly, this time around, and suspended flights to the UK from southern Africa. This was in sharp contrast to their dithering over the delta variant, which originated in India, but despite their quick-thinking Omicron was soon spreading rapidly, throughout the population at large.

Fast forward to the present and the media is awash with stories of how fast Omicron is spreading. The UK’s Chief Medical Officer, Chris Whitty, found himself in hot water, particularly from a number of senior Conservative MP’s for requesting that people should limit their socialsing over the Christmas period, and it appears that many people have taken his nannying advice to heart.

Following on from the CMO’s speech the other day, many people have been frightened into modifying their behaviour, although the government’s advice appears to be saying, carry on as normal. Weighing into an already confused situation, are the newspaper and public broadcasters who, working on the basis that bad news sells copy, seem hell-bent on forcing us into another lock-down. This view is reinforced by the stay-at-home, “protect the cheeldren” Mums Net brigade, oblivious of the fact that their precious little darlings are probably the biggest plague spreaders of the lot!

Downing Street is of course insisting that there won’t be another lock-down, but instead we are seeing a situation that many are calling “lock-down by stealth.” On commuter routes into London, passenger numbers are already way down on what they were, just a week ago, as, “stay at home” office workers desert their desks, in favour of their kitchen tables. These namby-pamby, remote workers, didn’t need much of an excuse to abandon their offices and slob around once again at home, perhaps attending the occasional, token, “Zoom meeting.”

The upshot of this contradictory advice can be seen in the already struggling hospitality industry. Hard-hit throughout the pandemic, the sector is currently experiencing a wave of cancelled bookings, with Christmas parties bearing the brunt of this. After the total washout of Christmas 2020, this is the last thing that pubs and restaurants needs.

I saw evidence of this for myself on Thursday afternoon, when I took a walk down into Tonbridge town centre. My mission, as decreed by Mrs PBT's, was to post the Christmas cards, so having popped the local ones through the relevant neighbour’s letter boxes, I queued up at what is now the town’s only post office. This is a section of shop space towards the rear of WH Smith’s, a sorry reminder of a once far more important business and operation.

Like most towns of any size, Tonbridge once had its own Crown Post Office. These were large post offices, directly owned and managed by what was originally the General Post Office (GPO). Many were distinctive and quite attractive buildings, dating back to the period between the two World Wars. They can still be seen on many High Streets, although many have alternative uses. Tonbridge’s former Crown Post Office* is now the town’s JDW outlet – the Humphrey Bean.

I digress, but the point I am making is that as the demand for postal services has declined, due to much quicker and far less costly means of communication, such as email, the Post Office has found it cheaper to rent out floor space, in separate, and totally unconnected establishments, such as Smith’s.

Mission accomplished, I fancied a pint, despite Mrs PBT’s warning not to set foot in a busy and crowded pub. Unfortunately, she is someone who, swayed by constant reports in the media, is convinced that it’s the end of days on our streets, and in particular the nation’s pubs.

Determined to prove her wrong, I thought I’d find out what was happening on the ground, so to speak. The Beer Seller, which was the first pub I walked past, seemed more or less empty – unusual for 3.30pm on a Thursday afternoon. The aforementioned Humphrey Bean also looked quiet, although in both cases my observations were made by peering through the window.

Next up was the Gatehouse, on the opposite side of the road. That too seemed much quieter than I imagined it would be. Finally, I reached my destination Fuggles, one of the town’s premier beer outlets, and somewhere I knew that wouldn’t compromise on customer and staff safety. Donning my mask, even though it’s not compulsory at present, I walked in.

Only two of the tables were occupied, each by just two persons. There were two members of staff behind the bar. They were also masked, as this has been Fuggles’ policy ever since full indoor service resumed, back in the summer. I ordered myself a drink, a rather nice pint of Gadd’s Yule Special – Little Cracker, a 5.0% Kentish Ruby Ale.

I asked the barmaid if I could take my drink outside, and she of course said yes.  thereby placating Mrs PBT’s unfounded fears about putting myself at risk. There is bench, out on the pavement, primarily for the use of smokers, but with none present, it suited my purpose of enjoying a pint whilst not in the confines of a pub.

Fortunately, the weather was quite mild, although I have to say the diesel fumes from a passing bus, caught up in queuing traffic, weren’t particularly pleasant. The beer was good, and whilst I am not normally a fan of red ales, the inclusion of some rye malt in the grist was a pleasant and flavoursome touch.

After finishing my pint, I made my way home, and made a point of telling my good lady wife, that I had enjoyed a beer OUTSIDE of a pub. She of course, knew that I would grab a beer whilst down the town, but used the news about the pubs being quiet, as reinforcement that people were heeding the warnings.

In a way, she was right, and this afternoon the Evening Standard couldn’t wait t break the news that the daily Covid infection rates were at their highest since the start of the pandemic. No mention of course, that testing is also at an all-time high, so much so that pharmacies have reported a shortage of lateral flow test kits. We have witnessed this at work, with some members of staff testing themselves on a daily basis, even though there is clearly no need to.

Meanwhile the madness continues. I might post another article on this tomorrow, but on the other hand being heartedly sick of the whole Covid debacle, I probably won’t.  

*Footnote: One of the less pleasant tasks my father had to perform, during his final days of working for the Royal Mail, was travelling around south-east Kent, in order to oversee the closure of some of the smaller Crown Offices, in places like New Romney and Hythe. He was glad to retire after that soul-destroying task!