Definitely Mayfield (May Be)

Next year, if I’m spared, I will have lived in Tonbridge for 40 years, with 30 of them spent in the same property. That's quite a record in this day and age, especially given that people are far more mobile than they would have been three or four generations ago. When you've lived in the same town for four decades, you ought to know pretty much everything there is to know about your adopted home town, as well as the surrounding area. Despite this, your local habitat can still throw up the odd surprise, no matter how comfortable and knowledgeable you happen to be in your particular Wohnung, and this is what happened to me the other day, but fortunately in a nice sort of way.

There's a triangular-shaped section of rural Sussex, to the south of Tunbridge Wells, that is something of a mystery to me. It remains unexplored, primarily because I’ve never had any real reason to go there, until the other day that is. I’d been racking my brains for somewhere to visit for “Pub Friday” especially as I hadn’t enjoyed an end of week outing for some time, when this particular area of Sussex suddenly sprung to mind. It is home to two charming villages which, because of their tucked away location, remain unexplored – at least by me. Those villages are Mayfield and Rotherfield, with the former being the larger of the two.

Mayfield is close to the A267 Tunbridge Wells to Eastbourne road, whilst Rotherfield is roughly half-way between this road, and the suburb of Crowborough, known as Jarvis Brook. Both villages have a couple of pubs each, but working on the premise that it would be a rush to visit both villages in a single day, I decided to go to Mayfield first, and save Rotherfield for another day. After all, I haven't got the stamina of Retired Martin, or BRAPA! For some reason I thought these settlements were further away than they actually are, but a look on the map, plus a quick Google search of the bus routes,  revealed they're just over 20 minutes away from Tunbridge Wells by bus. Stagecoach No. 51 bus operates a half hourly service to Mayfield, and every hour the same bus makes a detour to Rotherfield, which makes sense given the relative size of these two villages.

I had been to Mayfield once before, which was back in the day when Mrs PBT's was trying to trace her family tree. It had come to light that some of her ancestors had lived either in the village or close to it, so we spent the morning looking around the churchyard for clues. It then transpired that it was Maresfield, close to Uckfield that her forebears came from.  I also recall driving through the village although I can't remember now where I was going to. Perhaps I was just doing a bit of exploration?

The other reason why these two settlements entered my consciousness, is CAMRA – related, and dates from my move from Maidstone to Tonbridge during the mid-80’s. I’d been asked by the regional organiser to assist with the revival of the then moribund, Tonbridge & Tunbridge Wells branch; a task I undertook with the help of a couple of Tonbridge-based CAMRA members. In those days the branch area included a chunk of North East Sussex, that included Eridge and Crowborough, as well as Mayfield and Rotherfield.

My new buddies and I had enough on our plates dealing with the Kent area of the branch, so ignored Sussex to begin with, until we received an instruction to conduct up to date pub surveys for all the pubs in the branch area. None of us knew anything about the chunk of Sussex, we’d been lumbered with, but despite this lack of knowledge, we had to roll up our sleeves and get on with it. We had an old Sussex CAMRA pub guide to go by, but much of this area seemed like a foreign country to us.

Using a bit of initiative, I managed to persuade a Sussex-based work colleague to conduct some of these surveys. This was when I employed at Crown Chemicals, a pharmaceutical company based at Lamberhurst, close to the border between Kent and Sussex. My colleague undertook the task with relish, and out of interest, I’ve dug out that 1987 Sussex CAMRA guide, and discovered that both Rotherfield and Mayfield had five pubs apiece, compared with just two each left today. Eventually my CAMRA colleagues and I were able to ditch the Sussex section of the branch, and after adopting Sevenoaks, another branch which had disbanded, the current West Kent CAMRA branch came into being.

I’ve digressed somewhat, but sometimes it’s good to look back, especially when there’s a connection to the present day. “Pub Friday” saw me catching the 11.56 Stagecoach bus in the direction of Heathfield (another Sussex settlement I am unfamiliar with). 

This was the direct service, which bypasses Rotherfield. I left the bus in Mayfield High Street, almost directly outside the imposing 16^th Century, Middle House Hotel. Rather than dive straight in though, I decided first to have a look around this picturesque, Sussex village. Full of character and olde world charm and blessed with plenty of independent shops – including the perennial but obligatory coffee shops, Mayfield’s narrow High Street mercifully, now, carries relatively light, mainly local traffic.

This wasn’t always the case, as until the early 90’s it formed part of the traffic chocked, main A267 Tunbridge Wells – Eastbourne highway. Relief came in 1991 when the redundant track bed of the former Tunbridge Wells – Eastbourne railway, the so-called "Cuckoo Line," was converted into a bypass for the village. The railway itself closed in 1968, another victim of the notorious “Beeching cuts” which closed and tore up many allegedly, under-performing routes across the nation’s rail network. However, some good did come of this process in Mayfield’s case.

I wandered along to the far west of the High Street, admiring the plentiful old buildings, whilst thinking that the village has a slight “alternative” feel to it. This was nowhere near as strong as say Hebden Bridge, or Hay-on-Wye, as there appears to be plenty of money abounding in Mayfield, but the alternative vibe appeared again when I reached Mayfield’s other remaining pub.

I’d initially been heading in the wrong direction, whilst looking for the Rose & Crown, a situation confirmed by Google Maps. I retraced my step back along the High Street, passing the church whose tombstones Mrs PBT’s and I had scrambled round some 30 years previously. I also passed the front entrance to Mayfield School, a prestigious boarding school for girls. Just past the school is where the road from Tunbridge Wells comes into the village, and it is also where Fletching Street – the road I was looking for, comes in as well.

Fletching Street was quite narrow, and also drops away quite sharply, as it continues down towards lower ground. There are plenty of attractive houses and cottages on either side of this road, all looking their summer best with floral displays, flowering shrubs and other delightful seasonal blooms that look so good at this time of year. I passed the former Carpenter's Arms, about halfway down on the left, sadly closed but still displaying its name on the outside of the building. The Carpenter's was one of three Mayfield pubs that have closed sine that 1987 CAMRA guide appeared, and I also passed another – the former Royal Oak in the High Street, earlier in the day.

Eventually the Rose & Crown came into view. It is a delightful, white weather-boarded country pub set on a bank, overlooking a fork in the road. Internally the pub is divided into four areas, some for food, others with sofas, for lounging about on, but being such a fine day, I opted to take my drink, plus packet of Piper’s crisps, onto the terraced area at the front. There was a choice of two cask ales, Leveson Buck, a 3.7% Session IPA from Titsey Brewery, plus Pells Pale, a new-look beer from Harvey’s. Titsey seem to be getting around quite a bit of late, and I enjoyed a pint of their beer in Folkestone, a few weeks ago, but my loyalty to Harvey’s remained undiminished as I enjoyed a cool and refreshing pint of this fruity, hoppy and slightly dry pale ale.

A couple of tables away, two cyclist who had recently arrived, were sharing what sounded like a post mortem on a recent family wedding. I’m not sure how enthralled their audience was, but it appeared they had been overcharged for the prosecco. What else could it have been in Mayfield’s obvious monied community? 

Later on, I popped back inside to return my empty glass, thank the girl behind the bar and take a few photos. Before leaving though, I had a conversation which I fortunately manged to cut short, with a chap sitting at the bar. The alternative feel surrounding Mayfield was fair enough, but when the talk moved towards dodgy Russian money being laundered in the village (on flash-looking properties, presumably), it was time for me to leave.

I made my way back up the hill, thinking that despite the conspiracy theorist sat at the bar, the Rose & Crown would be a nice pub to return to, and take Eileen with me, as well. I was aiming for the Middle House Hotel, but first I needed something to eat, but not at posh-pub prices. Fortunately, the local and well-stocked Londis, opposite the posh school, came to my rescue, in the form of a chilled, but still tasty, Ginsters Cornish Pasty. I sat in the conveniently sited bus shelter, where I enjoyed this cheap and cheerful snack – Cooking Lager will no doubt soon be taking the piss, but what the hell.

I then crossed to the prestigious looking Middle House, a double-fronted building dating from 1575, with lots of intricate looking, black painted timbering, set against a white background. It has only functioned as a pub since 1927 and has a predictable and cosy old world feel to it. Internally there is a large bar area, with two large fireplaces at either end, plus there is a separate restaurant to the right of the main bar. There are one or two other rooms as well, but my initial thought upon walking in, were where is everybody?

That question was answered later, after I’d ordered myself a pint of Long Man Best Bitter. Cool, smooth and immaculately kept, which made the £5.10 price tag rather more acceptable. I asked the barman about sitting outside, and he directed me through the archway at the side of the pub, where I instantly discovered where everyone was! Moat were sat out on a large terrace area, overlooking an equally spacious garden, and as I wrote in my notes, this was where Mayfield’s beautiful people hang out. There seemed to be lots of family reunions/get-togethers taking place – A level result celebrations, possibly, taking place, but as well as various meals being consumed, the garden still seemed to welcome casual drinkers like me.

I hung my pint out a bit, as I wanted to catch the slower of the two buses back, in order to catch a glimpse of neighbouring Rotherfield. Unfortunately, the view from a single deck bus wasn’t quite the same as the double-deck bus I’d arrived on, but I still managed to clock the locations of Rotherfield’s two pubs, the King's Arms and the Catt’s Inn. Both looked appealing, and definitely worthy of a further trip, on the No.51 bus, next “Pub Friday.”

Will there or won't there be a Great British Beer Festival next year?

The other day I read a blog article, by Benjamin Nunn, in which he bemoans the fact that there will be no CAMRA Great British Beer Festival this year. Ben writes under the name of Ben Viveur, a title that gives more than a hints of what his blog is about, namely enjoying real food and drink in the real world. He also writes about cooking, and how to “Create recipes that taste awesome, but which can be created by mere mortals without the need for specialist equipment.” Needless to say, beer features quite highly on Ben Viveur, and whilst Ben isn’t a prolific blogger, he always has something interesting to say.

In his latest post on the Great British Beer Festival, Ben professes his deep love for the event, having first attended it 30 years ago, and never missed one since. In 2023, he took the plunge and spent the week working at the festival as a volunteer, so you can imagine his deep disappointment and indeed sorrow over the non-happening of the event in 2024. The main reason behind the cancellation is the extensive, and ongoing renovations taking place at Olympia, and I’m sure this is something we can all accept. However, Ben has his suspicions that GBBF might not be quite the same festival when it does come back.

This arises from what he describes as “rumours and tittle-tattle, from various sources,” citing that the festival is living beyond its means. The gossip suggests that the festival has gone beyond being cost-ineffective and become loss-making in a quite serious way, enough to make it unsustainable in its current form. Over the years staff perks have been cut back a bit in an attempt to offset this, but this strikes me as “biting the hand that feeds you,” as without the army of volunteers – all of whom are unpaid, there just wouldn’t be a festival.

I have heard similar reports, most recently from a long-standing CAMRA member who, at one time was chairman of my local CAMRA branch. I shan’t name him, but I bumped into him, a couple of weeks ago in the Nelson Arms, in Tonbridge. Despite not having much to do with West Kent CAMRA these days, this individual is quite heavily involved with annual, Spa Valley Railway Beer Festival in Tunbridge Wells. During our conversation, he was bemoaning the fact that whilst CAMRA adopts stringent financial controls when it comes to beer festivals run by local branches - quite rightly in my view, they are far more lax when it comes to their own, national flagship event. A view that certainly ties in with the haemorrhaging money story that's been doing the rounds.

If these rumours are true, I’ve little doubt that CAMRA will have to take a long, hard, and very necessary view of the event, but as Ben points out on his blog, a scaled-down half-hearted GBBF, full of compromises just wouldn't be the same. I’m sure it wouldn’t, but is the current, bloated, behemoth of an event what people want in this day and age? 

I’ve been an infrequent attendee over the years, and in fact was present at the very first national beer festival – the Covent Garden Exhibition,which took place in 1975. This event acted as the precursor to today’s Great British Beer Festival, and I’m pleased to say as well as the very first GBBF, held a couple of years later, at London’s Alexandra Palace, I’ve followed the festival to its other homes at Brighton, Earls Court and latterly, Olympia. The event moved around the country, for several years, with both Birmingham and Leeds welcoming the festival, during the 1980’s. For financial reasons, I wasn’t able to travel to those venues, but I did attend the disastrous, one-off event, at the Dockland’s Arena, in the Isle of Dogs, back in 1991.

Six years ago, I published a rather lengthy, look-back at four decades of the Great British Beer Festival, which you can read by clicking on the above link. I won’t repeat what I wrote then, but I will say that the following year – 2019, I attended what would be my final GBBF. COVID obviously put paid to the festival in 2020 and 2021, but it made a comeback in 2022. The following year was the one which Benjamin Nunn worked at as a volunteer, and you can read about his experiences here. 

They certainly provide a useful and valuable insight into what goes on at CAMRA’s flagship festival, even though it’s hard to get a grasp of the scale of what goes on behind the scenes plus the sheer logistics involved with hosting such an event. The amount of volunteers necessary to ensure the smooth running of GBBF, is a problem in itself, especially given the increasing age of these unsung heroes, and with less and less youngsters to fill their shoes, the lack of suitable manpower will become a major issue, if it hasn’t done so already.

This only fuels the speculation in my mind that if GBBF does return in 2025, it will be as a much scaled down event. After all, is it really necessary to have 900+ beers on sale? It’s true that the festival does pull in the punters, but my experience is the two main halls at Olympia, become unpleasantly crowded as each day draws on, and whilst CAMRA have done their best by providing a lot more, and much needed additional seating, the event can be very hard on the feet.

There is also the vexed question of admission charges, as even with a discounted rate for CAMRA members, visitors can spend quite a bit of money, even before they’ve had a drink! Munich’s world-famous Oktoberfest doesn’t charge for admission, and neither does it require a deposit on one’s glass. Prices for both beer and food, whilst higher than in central Munich, aren’t much higher, which is surprising given the large contingent of staff employed to take orders and bring beer and food to the customers’ table.

Even before the pandemic, I’d already decide that 2019's event was going to be my last, and I know quite a few of my friends also felt the same way. The fun had gone out of the festival, and with so many different beers on offer, deciding which to go for was like stabbing in the dark. It was far easier, back in the early days when my ambition was limited to ticking off every British brewery. That goal went out of the window with the dramatic increase in brewery numbers that occurred during the nineties and noughties!

We shall have to see what happens next year, but I think CAMRA is going have to be honest with itself, if it thinks it can pick up from where it left off in 2023.

Have you forgotten something?

I expected a certain amount of flack in the aftermath of my “umbrella” post, although one or two trolls did take things further than they perhaps should have done, but my forgetfulness took a new twist last Friday, when I headed out by bus to the village that would see me completing the final section of the Tunbridge Wells Circular Walk. That village was Groombridge, which literally straddles the Kent-Sussex border, and my plan was to walk from there to Southborough, a much larger settlement between Tonbridge and Tunbridge Wells. Two buses were involved, the No. 7 and the No. 291. The first service would take me from my home to Tunbridge Wells where, after a 30-minute wait I could board the second bus to Groombridge.

So far, so good, and the half-hour stop-over would allow me to grab a coffee from Greggs, along with a cheese and salad roll to be consumed alter on the walk. I stepped off the No. 7 and headed towards the Royal Victoria Place shopping centre to make use of the “facilities” before calling in at Greggs. As I walked through the RVP doors, I had the feeling that I was missing something, but what? It was then that it dawned on me that I’d left my map carrier, and its contents, upstairs on the bus that I’d just left behind.

A mixture of annoyance coupled with panic enveloped me, as the map carrier contained both the guidebook for the TWCW, plus the relevant OS map. My initial thoughts were whilst some public-spirited individual would hand them in. 

I would need to visit the Arriva depot at Maidstone in order to retrieve them. I then thought I could perhaps walk this stretch without the aid of map and guidebook. That thought didn't last long though, as despite the presence of way
marks along the trail, these are quite often missing or were non-existent in the first place. This means that walkers need a map, at the very least, and ideally an accurate guidebook as well.The price of the OS map, plus the guidebook, both of which had accompanied me on the previous sections of the walk were additional factors, although by then a plan had formed in my head, and I knew that all was not lost.

The No. 7 Arriva bus runs between Maidstone and Tunbridge Wells at half-hour intervals, and I was aware that after dropping passengers off at the shopping centre, the vehicle would head downhill to the station. It would turn round in order to make the return journey to Maidstone. I hurried back across the road in readiness for its appearance. I could then jump onboard and explain my loss to the driver. The handful of passengers, waiting at the stop were sympathetic to my plight, and kindly suggested I hop on first.

The driver remembered me, along with the map carrier around my neck – Mrs PBT’s claimed it made me look like a “special needs” person, but as no one had handed the item in, he surmised that it must still be upstairs. He left his seat and bounded up the stairs, and there, still on the seat where I’d obviously left it, was my map carrier.

Thanking him profusely, I headed back over the road to Greggs and bought the cheese roll that I knew would sustain me at lunchtime. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to buy and drink a cup of coffee before the departure of the Groombridge service. With two personal belongings left somewhere in as many weeks, I was starting to get a little concerned, but worse was to come, as I’m about to reveal. I caught the 291 bus, as planned, and then walked along to the start of the trail, at the village's local community centre. The path then took a sort of “dog leg” around Groombridge Place, a 17^th Century, moated manor house, before climbing up towards the equally ancient Crown Inn.

And here we must leave the Tunbridge Wells Circular Walk for a while, although there will be a separate post about this cross-country walk, later on. I made good progress along the trail, but I would quite easily have become lost without the help of that guidebook. That erudite publication shows the distance between Groombridge and Southborough as just over six miles, but they must be “country miles” as the walk seemed considerably longer, especially after I stopped for a rest and a well-earned pint. My choice of watering hole was an obvious one, as the trail goes straight past the front door of the George & Dragon at Speldhurst.

The temperature had been climbing steadily all morning, so I was glad when I strode into the attractive hill-top village of Speldhurst, just after 2pm. This was make or break time, as there was an opportunity to abort the walk at this point, take a bus back to Tunbridge Wells, and continue this section of the TWCW. Stopping for a pint meant missing the bus, so despite being hot, thirsty and tired, a nice cool glass of Harvey’s Sussex Best won the day.

I carefully carried my five-pound pint out into the spacious garden at the rear of the pub, found a shady spot and at down to enjoy this glorious marriage of malt and hops. Apart from a French family sitting just a few tables away from me, I had this part of the garden to myself.  I was sorely tempted to unpack the cheese and salad roll that I’d bought in Greggs earlier, and do a BRAPA – Simon Everitt’s, who is known for his none too subtle habit of eating his own food in pubs, as he works his way through every entry in the Good Beer Guide.

I didn’t, in the end, even though I could have got away with it, but the fact that I’d spotted a comfortable wooden bench, in a shady spot, just outside the churchyard, across the road, meant I had somewhere to enjoy my cheese roll, without causing any embarrassment. I was about two thirds of my way through this most welcome spot of lunch when, like earlier that morning, I realised something again, was missing. 

This time it was my walking stick, and whilst at first, I thought it might have slid under the bench, it definitely wasn’t there. I finished my roll and headed back to the pub, and sure enough there was my stick resting against the white-painted picket fence, where I had left it. I shall let you be the judge over my state of forgetfulness, but twice in one day, and with two different items, takes a bit of doing!

 

Partying the night away (or part of it at least), at Five Points Brewing

In the previous post, I wrote a brief piece mentioning the British Guild of Beer Writers summer party, that I attended last Wednesday evening. The event was held at Hackney-based Five Points Brewing, and I have to say the company were perfect hosts, providing plentiful beer and pizza in the setting of impressive their light and airy taproom that adjoins their Mare Street brewery. I’d been aware of the company and its beers for some time, although apart from liking the beers that Five Points were turning out, I didn’t know that much about them. I later discovered the company began brewing in 2013 on a 16hL brew-house in a railway arch beneath Hackney Downs station, before moving to their current site, in Mare Street – just a short distant down the road. The same elevated railway, that housed Five Points original brewery in one of its brick arches, runs along the rear of the current brew-house and taproom.

Brewing capacity was doubled in 2015, with a new 32hL brew house that has enabled the company to meet the high demand for Five Points beer. Although the new brewery is all shiny, stainless steel, it operates along traditional lines with mash tun, wort kettle, and whirlpool. Fermenting vessels range in size from 20hL, 40hL and 120hL, along with a number of bright beer tanks where the finished beer is store, prior to filling into cask, keg or bottle. a centrifuge on site, which is used prior to packaging the beer. Keg accounts for 75% of Five Points output, with cask making up 20%. The remaining 5% is bottled beer.

Along with a number of other guests, I was given a tour around the brewery by a pleasant and very knowledgeable north American lady (I wasn’t sure if she was from the US or Canada), who was happy to answer our questions. She was obviously passionate about Five Points and its beers, and from the other employees we met (pouring the beer, and sorting out the pizza), this enthusiasm seems to extend across the whole company. Five Points select the very best UK suppliers for use in their beers including Simpsons Malt from Norfolk, and Hukins Hops from Kent. Keen readers will remember my report of a visit made to Hukins, a couple of years ago, which was specially arranged for Guild members.

Available from the bar, at the far end of the taproom, were five tank beers brewed on site, and drawn from a number of horizontal s/s tanks stacked behind the bar. Four guest beers, from other breweries were also available. In addition, although I didn’t notice them until towards the end of the evening, were a couple of Five Points cask beers, dispensed by hand-pump. We were each given a token, entitling us to three pints, courtesy of the brewery and, for those wishing to have more, the Guild were running a tab behind the bar.

Solid nourishment came in the form of pizza – surely everyone’s favourite accompaniment to beer, courtesy of Yard Sale Pizza – slogan “Handmade & Hand-Delivered”. Like the beer, the pizza was plentiful, meaning no one went away hungry. As if that wasn’t enough, there was a range of bottled and canned beers available, for party guests to either drink there, or take away with them. These were kindly donated by brewers such as Greene King, Shepherd Neame, Davenports and Rooster’s, amongst others. Guests had been encouraged beforehand, to bring a bag with them, in order to take some of these samples home with them. I managed to stash 10 of these in my rucksack, although any more would have been too heavy to carry.

So, with the brewery, beer, pizza and take-home goodies sorted, what about the party itself? Well, it is best described as a relatively low-key, informal get together, with the only real input from the Guild being a short address by BGBW chairman, Jonny Garrett. Jonny is the author of “A Year in Beer”, an excellent book which attempts, in a non-forceful way, to inject a little seasonality into beer drinking, something which was far more common back when we all lives in a far more agrarian society than we do today.

Later on in the evening, I managed a few quick words with Jonny, saying how much I enjoyed his book. I also explained that despite my best intentions in trying to follow the seasonal guidance outlined in “A Year in Beer” I fail miserably, by forgetting the book’s underlying philosophy, until the advent of summer. He seemed pleased that I had enjoyed his book, along with the principles behind it. In a game of “Pin the next author down,” I next had a brief chat with Laura Hadland, author of “50 Years of CAMRA” - a book billed as the definitive history to the Campaign’s first half century. I explained that whilst I wasn’t there right from the start, I did start playing an active roll in CAMRA from the mid 1970’s onwards. “I trust I got the story right,” was Laura’s reply, which of course, by and large she had.

Final writer of the evening was David Jesudason, author of the award winning “Desi Pubs- A guide to British-Indian Pubs, Food & Culture.”  I met David on the aforementioned hop-picking visit to Hukins Hops, which sadly was the last time I saw Bryan Betts, who passed away in February this year. I haven't purchased a copy of David's book yet, purely becasue there aren't any Desi pubs in this neck of the woods, but for future trips to cities such as Manchester, Birmingham as well as London, I'm sure it will prove invaluable. On last year's visit to Brum, we visited the excellent Hen & Chickens, a thriving Desi pub on the edge of the city's Jewellery Quarter, as recommended by LAF. The pub was packed, and the curries looked, and smelled amazing. Definitely a pub for next time!

The bar closed at 9pm, although by then, I’d enjoyed four excellent pints of Five Points beers - Pale, Lager, XPA and Best. The latter was a cask ale, and a rather good quaffing bitter, whilst the others were keg, but both the Lager and the XPA were top notch. In common with the remaining guests, I made my way back to Cambridge Fields station. An invitation had been extended for partygoers to visit the Pembury Tavern, situated between Hackney Downs and Hackney Central stations, but I thought I’d leave a visit to this legendary pub, for another occasion. 

I mention this because Five Points own the Pembury, alongside the National Inventory-listed Whitelock’s in Leeds – the oldest public house in the city, and another unspoiled, heritage pub that is high on my list to visit. Our guide had told us earlier that the company had plans to expand into other areas of the country, although Leeds seemed a surprise move, at first, like many other UK cities, it has a thriving beer culture.

Well that’s it from the Big Smoke for the time being, although I’m sure it won’t be long before I’m heading up that way again.