Second time lucky for Marden? Only sort of!

It should have been a case of second time lucky when I made a return visit to the Wealden village of Marden last Friday. This followed on from my Easter Monday trip, which was less than a fortnight previously, and was when I discovered that both pubs in the village were closed. Shut on a Bank Holiday, don’t these publicans want to earn a living? I’m assuming they did such a roaring trade over the previous three days, that it wasn’t worth their while opening on the fourth day of the long Easter break. Perhaps they did, but somehow, I suspect they didn’t, and whilst they might well have their own private reasons for not opening their doors that day, a spot of advanced notice on their websites, social media, or both might have others from the same wasted journey that I had.

Fortune favours the brave, as they say, so somewhat foolhardily I decided to give the West End Tavern and the Unicorn, another chance. The pubs are situated at opposite ends of the village, with less than 10 minutes walking distance between them, so determined not to be deterred, last Friday afternoon I once again took the train over to Marden. Unless there was a logical explanation for the previous occurrence, it seemed unlikely that both pubs in a thriving and prosperous village would be closed once more.

At Mrs. PBT's suggestion (she is always right, you know), I contacted one of the pubs, the Unicorn, to confirm that it was open. Yes, it was, and it was open all day, although there would be a break during the afternoon when the kitchen would be closed. Perhaps I should have phoned the other pub as well, but I decided against this. As before, I set off and walked down to Tonbridge station, where there was the same half-hourly service running. The weather was warmer than on my previous visit, in fact it was hot enough for me to wear my shorts for the first time this year.

I knew that the West End Tavern would not be open until 2pm, so I headed towards the Unicorn instead. The front door was wide open, reflecting not just the warm weather we were experiencing, but also as a welcome draw for customers. Harvey’s Best and Fuller’s London Pride were the cask beers on sale, and by way of a change, I went for the latter. Full-bodied, tasty and almost “chewy”, as one well known beer blogger would say. The same individual would also agree that the Pride was certainly drinking well that afternoon. Incidentally, that “drinking well” remark, has become a popular cliché amongst quite a number of beer bloggers, and writers, although heaven knows why?

More to the point, it was quite a while since I last had a pint of Fuller’s legendary, flagship beer, and as we don’t see that often, in this part of the country, despite our relative proximity to the capital, it would have been rude to have not tried a pint. The pub wasn’t exactly packed for early afternoon, but there were people sitting out in the garden at the rear of the pub, and there was a nice atmosphere about the place. I might have stayed and grabbed a “lite bite” to keep me going (Cooking Lager, please take note), but I was keen to try out Marden’s other pub, the West End Tavern.

I drank up, and headed of towards the latter establishment, feeling fairly confident that this time, it would be open. However, despite arriving sometime after the stated 2pm opening, I once again found both doors firmly locked, and no lights on inside either. I peered through one of the windows, and it looked pleasant enough inside. I didn’t notice any hand pumps, but they might have been tucked away somewhere. The food offering looked good, and reasonably priced - as evidenced by the chalkboard attached to the fence (see photo above).  But after finding the pub doors firmly locked, for the second time in a row, I never got the chance to sample the food, or the beer. What on earth goes on with the management of these places?

What to do next, then? Return to the Unicorn, leave the train at Paddock Wood and try out the pubs there, or return to Tonbridge? I chose the latter, as I wanted to call in at the Nationwide, and also get a bite to eat.  So, building society first, and Greggs second, where I procured a roast chicken baguette, dressed up with a dash of mayonnaise and a few sprigs of water cress. Another beer was next on the agenda, but having already missed the turning for the Nelson, I headed towards Fuggle’s but then stopped in my tracks when I noticed Ye Olde Chequers, straight ahead.

This imposing, half-timbered building is of the oldest constructions in the town, and also one of the oldest pubs. After the castle, the Chequers is probably the most photographed building in Tonbridge, and has been described as "one of the finest examples of a Kentish timber-framed building that can be found today". It stands on the High Street on a site just below the castle where an inn possibly stood in 1264. The present building dates back over 500 years to the late 15^th Century. The room on the first floor is said to have been used as a Justices' room and at times a hangman's noose dangled from a strong oak sign post that jutted out over the street.

Despite its impressive pedigree, the Chequers has never really lived up to its full potential, as far as I am concerned.  When I first came to Tonbridge, initially to work and then later on, to live, the Chequers was a two bar, Courage house, and over the years it never progressed much beyond this, apart from losing its two-bar status. These criticisms aside, it was a popular pub under the watchful eye of legendary, old-school licensees, Dave and Maureen, and this was especially true of the lunchtime trade. I remember the large, heated glass cabinet that was the first thing customers saw upon entering the pub. I found this rather off-putting, and I was never sure quite how long the food remained on display.

This was back in the day when workers, dined out at lunchtime, a practice that seems largely to have died out. Also gone, are the three or four-pint sessions at lunchtime, which is probably just as well in terms of efficiency and safety in the workplace. Today the Chequers is operated by Pendry’s Pubs Ltd, a company that is based in Ongar, Essex. I knew that as well as Harvey’s, I could get a pint of St Austell Tribute at the Chequers, so by way of a change I stopped off there, rather than continuing on to Fuggle’s.

In view of the warm weather, I took my pint out to the terrace area at the rear of the pub, where a few other drinkers were soaking up the sunshine. I joined them and enjoyed a pleasant and well-conditioned pint of Tribute, a beer that always seems overshadowed by its stronger stablemate, Proper Job. After that, it was the good old 219 bus home, after an interesting day, despite it not quite turning out as expected.

The Beau Nash Tavern - 30 years on

I'd been meaning to get over to Tunbridge Wells and the Beau Nash Tavern for quite some time, following a blog post from retired Martin. RM's wife grew up in the Tunbridge Wells area, and with her parents living at nearby Southborough, Martin and Christine are frequent visitors to the town. The post I am referring to was one where Martin related his thoughts about the Beau Nash and followed on from a lunchtime session he spent there with Mrs RM and her parents. Martin’s post reminded me that it was many a year since I last set foot in this charming establishment, so it was high time to put things right. Tucked away behind the Royal Wells Hotel, at the top of Mount Ephraim, overlooking the town, the Beau Nash is what is best known as a “Mews Pub.” By that I mean the pub would have started life as a set of stables, used to house the horses needed to transport guests, to and from the adjacent hotel. As in most locations in the UK, the majority of these stables would have been converted into living accommodation, as horse drawn transport declined.

My opportunity to visit the Beau Nash arose the other Saturday when I had to call in at what is now the nearest branch of the Halifax Building Society. I travelled over to Tunbridge Wells by bus, using my free-travel pass, and after disembarking at Five Ways, directly opposite the town’s Royal Victoria Place shopping centre, proceeded towards the Halifax. Despite arriving fully prepared with the necessary documentation, it became apparent that the Halifax was quite blatantly, attempting to discourage in-person visits, by promoting the notion that everything could be done online.

Unfortunately, they misunderstood my needs, as there ARE certain situations where human interaction is irreplaceable. All I wanted to do was to transfer funds from a recently matured ISA, into a new one, and having already found the online process for doing this, unnecessarily complex, wanted to speak to a member of staff who could guide me through this. It was definitely a real-life case of “computer says  no,” because the stony-faced employee was about as much use as a chocolate teapot. I witnessed another customer giving short shrift to the counter clerk who suggested he download the Halifax app. This gentleman, who looked considerably older than me, informed the cashier in no uncertain terms, that he used his phone to talk with people, and at his time of life, didn’t want to start learning about apps!

Full marks there, as his concerns resonated with me. It seems as if every organisation one deals with today, regards their app as the best thing since sliced bread and promotes it without thought or question, neglecting the fact that these features can quickly clog up the memory of a mobile phone. As the disgruntled customer walked away, I told him that I agreed with him. 

This didn’t appear to do me any favours, when it was my turn to talk to Nurse Ratched, although she did at least hand me a card with a helpline number printed on the back. She added that the people on the end of that line might be able to help, although she was still insistent that it would be easier to sort out my transfer request online. 

Feeling frustrated, rather than enlightened, I left the building society, crossed the road, and walked up the hill toward Tunbridge Wells Common. I paused on the way, to take some photos, including a few of two houses built on rocky outcrops, overlooking the town below. At the summit of Mount Ephraim, I passed the impressive looking Royal Wells Hotel, before turning into the narrow alley leading to the Beau Nash. When I first became familiar with this pub, back in the mid-1980’s, it was a well-regarded establishment known for offering beers that were unusual for the area. It’s hard to believe then that Harvey's was one such beer, despite being brewed just 30 miles away, down the road in Lewes.

As I walked along the narrow passage towards the pub, its bright green exterior seemed different to what I remembered, although it did look attractive in the bright mid-morning sunshine. I passed a couple of fellas, in morning dress with white, button hole carnations, fixed to their jacket lapels. They were obviously on their way to a wedding, but as it wasn’t clear who was the groom, and who was the best man, I wished them both good luck. They thanked me with a grin, whilst I headed toward the pub entrance. Before entering, I could see around the corner and into the courtyard behind. In a short while I would sitting out there too, but first I had a pint to order, plus a pub interior to reacquaint myself with.

The cool, and slightly dim interior of the Beau Nash, with its colourful stained-glass windows, did bring back a few memories, especially of the days when I thought Tunbridge Wells was a really exotic place to visit. Internally, there was much wood panelling, a solid wooden floor, wooden tables, chairs and sofas and which together with warm orange lighting, induced a cosy atmosphere. Apart from the bar staff, there were only a couple of customers inside, as most were sitting out in the courtyard, taking advantage of the fine weather.

I walked up to the bar where I was faced by an attractive looking bank of hand pumps, but only one beer. It was Harvey’s Best, of course, and given my previous knowledge of the pub, what else could it be? So, I ordered a pint of Lewes’s finest, alongside a bag of plain crisps, and headed outside, but not before I’d taken a few photos of the interior. I found a shady spot where I could sit and indulge in a spot of people-watching, whilst at the same time admiring the well-laid out pub garden, whose existence I was totally unaware of until that moment. It was set on two different levels, and nicely laid out on with contemporary, but comfortable furniture, with areas of shade as well as full sun. All in all, there was a general good vibe about the place.

I got stuck into my pint of Sussex, although I didn't rush because I knew I'd have to drive once I got back to Tonbridge, so could only have the one pint. Mrs PBT's wanted me to chauffeur her to the supermarket, to pick up some food shopping. I swear she does this deliberately to curtail my visits to the pub, as whilst we do need a weekly shop, let’s make do with one expedition, rather than several! Second rant of the day over, and after finishing my beer, I headed back along Mount Ephraim, passing the site of the long-demolished Kent & Sussex ("Kent and Snuff it", as it was jokingly called), but the site is now occupied by an upmarket, residential development. Not quite a "gated" one, but it might as well be. 

I’d probably just missed a bus, and there was quite a wait for the next one, so would my bladder hold out, even after a single pint? More importantly, would the public toilets, opposite Tonbridge station be open, or would the little "scrotes" have been up to their mischief, causing criminal damage? These little “treasures” will be old one day, and I sincerely wish they get caught in a place where there are no toilet facilities. Luckily, the facilities were open, and even more fortuitously, I only had a to wait a couple of minutes for the 219 bus, a service that saves a long, slow and tiring walk up Pembury Road, a thoroughfare that seems to go on forever!

 

It's bad enough when one pub in a village can't be bothered to open, but when both are stubbornly closed, what's a poor boy supposed to do?

The long Easter weekend was quite uneventful for me, especially in terms of both beer, and pubs visited, but it still provided a welcome break from work. Thursday and Friday were spent sorting things out in both house and garden, whilst Saturday was a shopping day. It was also the day when my filling fell out, as mentioned in the previous blog post. On Sunday, Matthew drove us over to Uckfield, in order to visit Eileen’s niece Heidi, for an extended family gathering. A nice buffet spread had laid on, and since I wasn’t driving, I was able to enjoy a beer or two. Unfortunately the beer selection left a lot to be desired, which was unusual as Heidi's husband Phil, normally has a good variety of bottles and cans available. 

Somehow, the couple had either drank it all or forgot to restock. I had to make do with a can of  Kronenbourg which, whilst refreshing, didn’t exactly inspire me to have another. However, as the cakes and other desserts were being served by then, I declined a second can. I would have done the same with a bitter or a pale ale, as I find the majority of beers, regardless of style, don’t go well with sweet things. In fact, it’s no exaggeration to say that cakes, puddings and chocolate ruin the taste of beer, making it, for me at least, virtually undrinkable.

On Easter Monday, Matthew had to go to work, and Eileen had some accounting work to do, so I decided to head out as a train enthusiast instead of taking the bus. After checking the train schedule, I found that my chosen destination of Marden was quite accessible, and despite it being a bank holiday, there was a half-hourly service between the village and Tonbridge. Marden is a pleasant village that is only two stops down the line from Tonbridge. Furthermore, the journey time is only 12 minutes. Geographically it is situated approximately 8 miles south of the County Town of Maidstone.

The Parish of Marden has a population of just over 5,000 souls and lies in an area renowned for the growing of apples and hops, as well as more general mixed farming. The village has a number of local shops including a Post Office, three Convenience Stores, a Butchers plus a Bakers. There are also two pubs, along with the famed Marden Village Club – national winner of CAMRA’s Club of the Year for 2022 and 2023.

It had been a long time since I last visited the village, and I’m guessing here it would have been back in 2010. That was when a small group of local CAMRA members attended a social event at the West End Tavern, a pub which lies to the west of the village centre. There is another pub in the Marden called the Unicorn at the opposite end to the aforementioned. Both pubs are just over five minutes' walk from the station, as I discovered during my visit, albeit at opposite ends of the village. I also recall another pub in Marden, which was the Rose & Crown. This rather basic pub, closed in 1981, despite a concerted campaign to keep it open, organised by the local CAMRA branch.

So far so good, and with spirits running high I alighted from the train and made my way towards the West End Tavern.  On the way I passed a local curry house that had all the hallmarks of a former pub. The name Taj of Kent curry house was a possible clue (Man of Kent, anyone?), but a search through the archives for lost pubs, subsequently failed to turn anything up. I continued on to the West End Tavern and was surprised to find both doors locked – rather unusually, in this day and age, the pub still has separate Public and Saloon bars. Undeterred, I headed back in the opposite direction to the Unicorn, a pub that I’d never been in before. 

On the way I stopped for a look at the rather attractive, parish church of St Michael & All Angels, which dates back to 1200. I didn’t venture inside, as I was rather thirsty at this stage, although had I known that the Unicorn would also be closed, I would have called in. The Unicorn’s website states “Closed Monday, except for Bank Holidays” so why on earth was the place shut, with no sign of life inside, when I tried to gain entry at 14:10? The usual lunchtime opening time is 12 noon, so on the final day of a traditionally busy, holiday weekend, this pub feels that it’s unnecessary to open its doors to the paying public.

I gave up in disgust and made my way back to the station. With hindsight I could have called in at the Marden Club, but unlike Pete Brown who wrote a book on the subject, I’ve never been a fan of clubs, political, workingman’s, or other so I gave up on that. I’m also not a member of any organisation that might permit me entrance, either, so it was the next train back to Tonbridge for me. It wasn’t a totally wasted day, as I’d enjoyed a pleasant stroll, around an equally pleasant Kent village, and there was always the prospect of a return visit, when I knew for certain that both pubs would be open.

There was also the immediate prospect of a pint when I arrived back in Tonbridge. The choice was between Fuggle’s and the Nelson Arms, and purely for the fact that the Nelson was running a “tap takeover”  over the weekend, Fuggle’s received my custom that afternoon. I’m really not a fan of these “takeovers” as I view them as just another gimmick in the aspiring licensee’s calendar – a “crowd pleaser” for beer-tickers and getting your pub in the CAMRA Good Beer Guide, if you like.  Also, what’s the point in keeping a pub with a large number of pumps available, if they’re all given over to the products of a single brewery? Langham was the company concerned, and whilst their beers are pleasant enough, they don’t exactly float my boat.

Fuggle’s on the other hand, had an interesting selection, of just four cask ales, and a truly excellent pint of Spring Protagonist, from Lost & Grounded provided that refreshing and welcoming pint that I’d been looking forward to all day. As for the two closed pubs, what on earth were they playing at? I know that seasoned pub tickers like Martin, Duncan and Simon come up against this issue all the time, but if you are running a hospitality business that by its nature is open to the public, for pity’s sake, keep people informed as to what is going on. I checked the pub’s websites, their social media pages, and saw nothing about them not opening on Easter Monday, so they are the losers, rather than me.  But please don’t come crying when customers stop visiting your outlet, because they never know whether or not you will be open!

A cracked tooth puts paid to a few pints at Fuggles

The best laid plans often have a habit of going astray, and Thursday afternoon was no exception. I spent a fun filled morning clearing out various kitchen cupboards and drawers, in preparation for our 30-year-old kitchen to be ripped out, in a few weeks’ time, and replaced by a shiny new one. We’re splashing the cash a bit, but it’s a job that is long overdue. If all goes according to plan, the lion’s share of the work will take place whilst Mrs PBT’s and I are away on our round-Britain cruise. My wife is an inveterate hoarder, although she won’t thank me for saying it, so I’m adopting the softly-softly approach of sifting through, and disposing of, the items that have accumulated during the last 30 years that we’ve lived in this house.

I then engaged in an hour-long conversation with an advisor, from Pension Wise, the UK Government backed advisory service, that helps people, like me, who are contemplating retirement, make the right choices, when it comes to choosing a pension. The process was a one-to-one, pre-booked phone call with a Pension Wise advisor, and such is the popularity of this service, that my call was booked almost a month ago. The advisor and I had a most useful conversation, regarding the various options available to me – purchasing an annuity, drawing down on my funds, over a period of time, withdrawing my entire pension pot as a lump sum, along with several other options. There is lots to think about, although hat the end of the day it comes down to a difficult balancing act between how long my combined pension pots last, and how long it is until I shuffle off this mortal coil. At the end of the consultation I was sent a summary document, full of useful links and advice. Something for a rainy day, methinks, but as I’m not planning to give up work for several years (how else will I fund those cruises?), I can digest this information at my leisure.  

After collecting Mrs PBT’s from the scaffolding company, where she does a weekly stint in the office, we drove home. I dropped the car off and then set off down the hill, and into Tonbridge, where I had a dental appointment, relating to a filling that unfortunately fell out from one of my upper molars, and nearly ended up being swallowed. That was Easter Saturday, and yesterday (Thursday) was the first convenient and available appointment. I was rather nonplussed, as the tooth was filled just under two months ago, so I took the filling along with me, in a small plastic bag, as evidence. 

The dentist’s initial conclusion was that the filling had fallen out, because in comparison with the tooth, it was on the large side, and there wasn’t really sufficient tooth for the material to bond to. I was tempted to ask, why had she filled it in the first place, when after numbing that area of my upper jaw she discovered that the tooth had cracked. After a spot of cleaning up, she took a photo and invited me to turn around for a look.  There was no doubting the large crack, right down the centre of the tooth, and no doubting either that it would have to come out. As my jaw was already partially numbed, it made sense to have it removed there and then.

My plans for a couple of pints at Fuggles, on the way home, went out of the window and so, following the advice of the practice nurse, I took the bus home, instead of walking.  What made matters worse was Eileen had ordered us a meal from our local Chinese-takeaway, and with young Matthew, round at his new girlfriend’s place for the evening, there would be more for us to enjoy. As things turned out, despite eating on right hand side of my mouth, I still manged to scoff a fair amount of chicken chow mein, rice, plus some crispy seaweed. There was no beer though, as I didn’t really feel like any, and I’m not sure that I’ll be having any tonight.

Tomorrow though, is another day, and we shall have to see what happens, but after the fiasco of Easter Monday, I shall be searching desperately for “beer nirvana.” (Teaser alert, you will have to wait until next time to find out what happened – or rather what didn’t!)

 

A Wateringbury breakfast

Continuing our search for the perfect breakfast venue, a search that is primary being driven and organised my son Matthew, Easter Saturday saw the pair of us drive over to the village of Wateringbury. Situated roughly two-thirds of the distance between Tonbridge and Maidstone, Wateringbury has a Victorian feel to it, as characterised by the many buildings from that era, but the village is considerably older than that and can trace its history back to the time of the Domesday Book. It is quite a large settlement, with the lower half of the village, running down to the river Medway, and the top part extending up to the A26 Tonbridge-Maidstone road.

There’s a fair amount of brewing history associated with Wateringbury, although nowadays, very little remains of this heritage. Yet, up until the mid-1980s, national brewer Whitbread had a substantial plant in the village, on a site overlooking the Medway. This rather attractive, and typical 19^th Century, tower brewery, was known as the Phoenix Brewery, and was home to Frederick Leney & Sons.  

Whitbread acquired the business as well as the site in 1927, as part of their initial expansion from their London home but Wateringbury continued brewing Leney’s ales for local pubs, until 1961 when the licensed premises were sold to Fremlin’s of Maidstone. The latter company joined the Whitbread group in 1967 and the day-to-day running of the Wateringbury brewery was then integrated into their Maidstone operation. Until fairly recently you could sometimes see the name of Frederick Leney etched into the windows of local pubs. The other Wateringbury brewery was that of Jude, Hanbury & Co Ltd, who moved to Canterbury in 1924 after acquiring the business of Ash & Co. Their brewery in Bow Road, was sold to the Yalding Soap Co. and was later demolished.

Production at the Phoenix Brewery, was then switched to brewing mainly bottled beers for the Whitbread group. Before its closure in 1984, beers such as light ale, and Gold Label barley wine were brewed at Wateringbury, although it’s interesting to note that this famed barley wine, started life as a Sheffield beer. Developed originally by Tennant's in 1951, it was a pale-coloured, sparkling barley wine of great strength, containing around 10.6% alcohol. Its golden colour was unusual, because the vast majority of high strength beers tended to be on the dark side, including Whitbread’s own Final Selection barley wine. The latter brew was replaced by Gold Label, which ended up being brewed elsewhere within the group, when Wateringbury ceased production. I’m assuming the beer is still available, although the advertising slogan used to sell it, “Strong as a double Scotch, less than half the price,” has long disappeared. 

Following closure, the attractive brewery buildings at Wateringbury were pulled down, and all that remains of this once thriving local enterprise is the Phoenix weather-vane atop of the nearby Wateringbury Hotel, which although now owned by Greene King, operates under the Chef & Brewer banner along with the adjoining Premier Inn. 

 There’s a bit of family history here, because the youngest of my two sisters, bought one of the houses on the former Phoenix site, and lived there for a while with her family, during the mid-90’s. Of slightly more interest, as well as relevance, is the story that a friend and I hopped over the fence, one weekend, whilst demolition of the brewery was in its initial stages. Despite the fact we were trespassing, and that parts of the site were potentially unsafe, we had a good look around. My friend ended up with a World War II ARP, steel helmet and I uncovered an old wooden beer crate. As is often the case when enterprises are closed down, a lot of seemingly worthless objects are just abandoned. Potentially there might have items, such as brewing logs, which would have been of interest to brewery historians, although somehow apart from my friend’s steel helmet, I don’t think there was much else of value remaining on the site.

In common with many other towns and villages, Wateringbury would at one time, have been well supplied with public houses, especially as it was a settlement with two thriving breweries. Sadly, nearly all of them have disappeared, either having been converted either for residential use, or demolished altogether. One such remaining survivor is the Railway, a white-painted late 19^th Century pub at the bottom of the hill, opposite Wateringbury station. The pub is almost in the neighbouring village of Nettlestead, but that’s one for the pedants. 

From memory, I’d only made one previous visit to the Railway, and that was around 20 years ago, at the end of one of Maidstone CAMRA’s, annual Good Friday rambles. As is often the case over Easter, that particular Good Friday was characterised by freezing cold conditions, and it might even have snowed. A friend and I dived into the Railway, whilst waiting for our train back to Tonbridge, and whilst I remember precious little from that visit, the pub certainly provided a warm and very welcome respite from the Arctic conditions outside. And there, the story might have ended, if Matthew hadn’t noticed a social media post about the Railway.

He discovered that on Saturday mornings, the Railway offers a buffet breakfast, of the “all you can eat” variety. The reason for the breakfast offer taking place on a Saturday, is because the Railway majors on roast dinners on Sundays with a carvery that is very popular with the punters.  Consequently, keeping the two meal occasions separate, makes a lot of sense for the pub management. Consequently, the pair of us pitched up just after 9am, and after leaving the car in the free (TMBC please take note) car park, at the top of the village, probably on the site of the former Jude Hanbury brewery, we walked down to towards the river, and the Railway public house.

After walking into the pub, we informed the lady behind the bar that we’d come to enjoy the breakfast offering, and after showing us to an empty table in the dining area, we were asked how would we like our eggs cooked. Eggs were the only things on the buffet menu that were cooked to order, the rest of the breakfast items being on a “help yourself” basis. A hot water urn was available for teas and coffees, with the hot drinks also being self-service. There was a good selection of typical breakfast goodies, such as bacon (back cuts, rather than streaky), sausages, tomatoes, beans, fried bread, hash browns etc, plus bread for toasting. 

All in all, a good choice of traditional breakfast fayre, and if you wanted to, you could return to the hot serving dishes, for seconds. A number of other customers turned up whist we were there, and it was obvious from the interaction between them and the staff, that they were regulars. As for the breakfast itself, the cost worked out at a very reasonable, £9.50 per head. If I’m honest, there was a touch of the “greasy spoon” about the presentation, but in mitigation the bacon, eggs and sausages were good quality, and definitely not your typical “cash & carry” catering option.

Once I’d finished my breakfast, a visit to the gents provided an excuse for a look around the rest of the pub. There is a large pool table to the right of the bar, but apart from that, nothing jumped out as unusual. In short, the Railway comes across as a basic, and down to earth local, catering to its own band of loyal regulars, many of whom seemed gave the appearance of ex-pat Londoners. This is not uncommon in this part of rural Kent, with many people having been acquainted with the county as itinerant fruit pickers and people whose parents or grandparents, came down to Kent in order to assist with the annual hop harvest.

Before walking back to the car, we crossed the road, and the railway, and took a look at the river. There, we noticed a café, in the form of the Riverside Restaurant, which seems worthy of further investigation. A boatyard, plus marina on the opposite bank of the Medway, is proof of the popularity of boating on this section of Kent’s largest river. I’m looking forward to seeing more of the riverside, at first hand, when I undertake my planned walk along the banks of the Medway, later in the year, and I shall also be on the look out for further breakfast opportunities, “greasy spoon” or otherwise!

 

A few more beery gems in Cologne

I was having a sort out earlier this morning, when I stumbled upon a pile of notes that I’d made in relation to the Rhineland city of Cologne. As you're no doubt aware, last month I published a quite lengthy piece consisting of reflections, looking back over my many visits to the city. I tried to make the post as comprehensive as possible but obviously couldn't include everything. Now, after looking back over these notes, it’s evident there are quite a few gaps, and so, in the interests of completeness, I've added them in here. But will this be the final word on Cologne? A city I have visited on eight separate occasions, which is more than any other overseas destinations. The answer is I don't know, although it certainly is for the time being, so sit back and relax as I describe a few more of Cologne’s beery gems.

Brauerei Päffgen is a place that is well-known to beer lovers; not only is its wonderfully hoppy Kölsch brewed at the rear of the premises, but it is also dispensed from wooden casks. A former school friend had taken me to Päffgen during my first visit to Cologne, way back in 1975. My friend was living and working in the city as part of the language degree he was taking. I was also a student, but at the time was travelling around Europe, by train, on an Inter-Rail ticket with a friend from university. Even back then I had a reputation for enjoying good beer so my host, knowing this fact, had taken me to Päffgen as he knew I would be impressed.

I didn’t plan on waiting 34 years before returning, but in 2009, on an evening out with a few colleagues, whilst attending the Cologne International Dental Show, I was finally able to make that return visit to Päffgen. With a sense of eager anticipation, my colleagues and I pushed open the door, and found ourselves in a central corridor with a small room leading off to the left, and a much larger one to the right. We opted for the latter and were soon seated at one of the many tables in the wood-panelled room. On the way in we noticed two up-ended wooden casks, tapped and ready for serving.

We ordered a Kölsch each and were pleasantly surprised by its hoppy flavour. I had a look round the rest of the pub to see if it would bring back any memories. I recognised the large back room at the end of the corridor as being the place where, on a damp July evening, my friend and I had sat enjoying several glasses of Päffgen Kölsch. It was great to be back, even if the memories were rather vague but sadly, as mentioned previously, I haven’t been back since then, despite several attempts during subsequent visits to IDS.

In May 2017, I made a non-work-related visit to Cologne, along with son Matthew. We were part of a group of beer enthusiasts drawn mainly from Maidstone CAMRA, plus a few neighbouring branches. Our visit to Cologne was a one-day interlude, that occurred during a stay in the neighbouring Rhineland city of Düsseldorf – basically what Americans would call a “side-trip.” The transit time between the two cities is around 35 minutes, so it’s a journey that’s well worth making.

We were in Cologne for a look around, and also to have a tour around a typical Kölsch brewery, in the guise of Brauerei Sünner. Our visit was not scheduled until later in the afternoon, so this gave us plenty of time for a look around Cologne and also to sample some Kölsch. We decided to make for Brauerei zur Malzmühle at Heumarkt; an old established former brewpub at the far end of the Alter Markt. This was a pub I had never managed to get to on previous visits to the city, so I was quite pleased with the opportunity to go there this time around.

Housed in a rather functional-looking building, replacing the original structure, which was destroyed in World War II, Malzmühle was every bit the traditional German beer house on the inside. With high ceilings and plenty of wood panelling, we made for the two tables at the far end of the room. One of the thoughtful waiters came over and fixed a “bridge” in between the two, thereby joining them and enabling us to all sit together.  

Malzmühle Kölsch was quite a bitter variant on the style. Being slightly away from the main tourist areas, Brauerei zur Malzmühle was very much a local’s pub, but we were nevertheless made very welcome. (I think the staff were glad of our presence during what seemed a slack period).

Our day in Cologne concluded with the aforementioned visit to Brauerei Sünner, a traditional brewery on the other side of the River Rhine, and one where the Kölsch style of beer is said to have originated. I’m rather surprised to discover, that I didn’t write anything about the brewery tour, at the time, but despite an extensive search cannot find anything. I did take quite a few photos, though, so you will have to make do with those. 

After our tour around the brewery concluded, we enjoyed an excellent evening meal, served in the small beer garden attached to the brewery. This area open to local residents, as well as visitors to the brewery, as evidenced by the photos, and if you look carefully, you will notice a small keg of Kölsch on one of the tables. A nice idea that saves on trips to the bar or trying to attract the attention of the waiting staff.  

One city centre Kölsch outlet that I visited, during one of my first business trips to Cologne, was Pfaffen. At the time, this was the only outlet for the beer of the same name, and story behind this establishment dates back to a fall out between owner, Max Päffgen, and other members of the Päffgen family. This led to Max starting a brewery of his own. I wrote at the time that the Pfaffen Kölsch served at Max’s pub, was probably the best version of the style I tasted during my stay in Cologne. It was so good that I stayed for several more glasses.

The Pfaffen tavern is a long, narrow building featuring some attractive carved, light-coloured woodwork and also some interesting contemporary stained glass. Regrettably, I haven’t been back since, but with beer that good I brought my colleagues there on our last night in the city, and they were well impressed. The beer was served direct from wooden casks, and such was the demand for this excellent Kölsch that we witnessed the cask being changed twice in less than an hour and saw the row of empties stacked up in the corridor.

I’m not sure as to when I first came across Schreckenskammer-Kölsch. It must have been prior to my penultimate visit to Cologne, which was in 2019. This was at a time when I believed I had drunk virtually every Kölsch available in the city, so stumbling upon Schreckenskammer came as something of a surprise. I bought a 500ml bottle during that 2019 trip but was determined to track down the Schreckenskammer pub on my next visit to Cologne, little thinking that, thanks to Covid, the trip wouldn’t be for another four years!

Situated to the north-west of Cologne’s imposing main rail station, or Hauptbahnhof, the pub was quite easy to find, particularly with the assistance of Google Maps, on my Smart Phone.  

The distinctive looking church tower of St Ursula, acted as my guide as I drew near to the pub. With the original Schreckenskammer beer house destroyed by Allied bombing, in 1943, today’s pub is a modern building, which dates from the 1960’s. It is still quite an attractive looking building, which overlooks a paved area at the entrance to the church. Pleased with myself for having found the place, I gingerly pushed the door open and stepped inside.

There was a small room over to the left, with its own serving counter, complete with some casks of beer, in full view of the customers. There was a handful of customers present, plus a member of staff behind the counter. It looked very much like a “private bar,” so I headed, instead, for the larger, and more spacious room to the right. It was laid out with plenty of tables and chairs, but very little in the way of empty places, as most seemed occupied with diners.  I sat myself down at the end of one such table, with my back to the window. I do this in most pubs, as I like to see what’s going on, rather than sit with my back to the action. 

When the waiter, or Kobe, passed, by with his tray of glasses, he uttered the word, “Kölsch,” and almost without waiting for an answer, placed a full glass on the table in front of me, whilst at the same time marking a fresh beer mat, with a tick. The beer was served in a badged glass – as per the photo and was rather good, with a deep golden colour and plenty of body. The pub itself was buzzing, with a lively mix of customers, spanning several different age groups. I got the impression that most of them were local, drawn from the nearby flats.

Finding Schreckenskammer left just one final, classic Cologne pub to tick off my list, and that outlet was the legendary Gaststätte Lommerzheim, which I visited on my final evening in Cologne. Known locally as Lommi’s, this establishment is a “must visit” Cologne institution, and one of those pubs you feel privileged to have experienced. Recommended by a wide assortment of different beer writers, including Matt from Stockport, Retired Martin, and Rob Sterowski, but still far enough off the beaten track to have escaped the notice of the more usual suspects, Lommerzheim is in a class of its own.

Described as a throwback to a bygone era, Lommi’s is a proper community local, catering to a wide age groups and a diverse range of customers. As well as serving one of the best glasses of Kölsch in Cologne - Päffgen, naturally, dispensed from a wooden cask behind the bar counter, the food looks really inviting as well, that’s if you can find space at table where you can sit down and get stuck in. On my visit, shortly after 6pm on a Thursday evening, the place was packed with people were enjoying themselves, either in small groups or conversing with friends and neighbours.

If you want to learn more, then click on the link here, but don’t just take my word for it, add Gaststätte Lommerzheim to your beer-bucket list, or make it an essential part of any visit to Cologne and the Rhineland, (there are some classic pubs in Düsseldorf as well, and like Cologne, the city has its own unique style of beer). If these accounts haven’t whetted your appetite, then I don’t know what will, but I do know I have spent some very happy times in this part of Germany, drank some truly amazing beers and enjoyed them in some equally wonderful pubs.