It’s been over two months since my last cross-country ramble, and to say I was getting itchy feet would be an understatement. Incessant rain and waterlogged fields, both of which would have made cross-country walking perhaps not quite impossible, but certainly down right miserable, finally came to an end as the calendar changed into April. So last Friday, after a week and a half of dry weather, it was finally time to dust off my trusty walking boots, wrap up warm and head off out, back on the trail.

The trail concerned is the Tunbridge Wells Circular Walk (TWCW), a 26-mile footpath encompassing this attractive Kenish town, that I’ve been trying to complete for over a year. It’s a trail I’d been keen on walking ever since I first heard about it from a friend, but just over two years ago, whilst enjoying a quiet pint at Larkin’s Ale House, in Cranbrook, I came across a guidebook to this circular walk. Liking what I saw, I purchased a copy with the intention of completing this walk, but not before finishing the North Downs Way.

That’s a story for another day, although to set the record straight, I finished that particular Long-Distance Footpath in October 2022. It wasn’t long after, that the weather changed for the worse, following the onset of winter. This meant postponing my attempt at the TWCW until February 2023, when I walked slightly under half of the Southborough to Pembury section of the trail. Between then, and now I completed the latter section, followed by Pembury to Frant, and then Frant to Eridge.

That latter walk took place 10 weeks ago, but further progress was stalled by two months of persistent rain which meant February and March were complete washouts. Last Friday, I picked up, from where I left off back at the start of February, by taking the No. 29 bus to Eridge Green, crossing busy A26 road, before passing the churchyard and continuing along a track to Eridge Rocks. My aim was to walk the three and a half odd miles from Eridge to Groombridge, passing on the way the impressive rocky outcrops that make up Harrison’s Rocks. Despite a much-needed dry spell at the start of April, the weather again took a turn for the worse, with several heavy downpours, mid-afternoon.

The rain occurred at the worst possible time imaginable, with the heavens opening whilst I was a third of the way across a rather large, and very open field, with nothing at all in the way of shelter. I could see the rain saturated clouds blowing across the unprotected field in waves, but with no shelter I had to just keep going. The new hat which Mrs PBT’s bought for me, kept the rain off my head, whilst the three-quarter length coat, meant most of my upper body remained dry.

I crossed the stream at bottom of field, and then continued uphill, before reaching a metalled road which took me past some rather attractive looking properties. The track then veered away to the left and downhill past the intriguingly named Pinstraw Farm, before emerging through the trees at nearby Forge Farm, into an open meadow with the Spa Valley Railway Line to the left, and the start of the ridge formed by Harrison’s Rocks to the right. These tall, impressive sandstone outcrops extend a long way following the line of the valley and are surprisingly high in places. They are popular with both novice rock scramblers, and more experienced mountaineers, including well-known climbers, such as Chris Bonningon.

The path followed the lien of the railway for some distance, before veering of to the right and into Birchden Wood. I hadn’t seen a single soul until I reached the nearby car park and toilet area, so after making use of the facilities there I headed off on the final stage of that part of the walk. Unfortunately, this turned out to be the muddiest stretch of the entire walk, as it followed a narrow path, hemmed in by a field of horses on one side, plus a row of back gardens on the other. By the time I reached the end, where the path crossed over a railway junction, my boots were caked in mud, which was especially annoying, seeing as I’d managed to avoid any mud up until that part of the walk.

Away to my right I could see Groombridge station, whilst to my left was Birchden Junction, where the line towards London once deviated away from the tracks down towards Eridge, Lewes and the south coast. It was sheer folly closing these rail-lines, particularly as they provided useful diversionary routes away from the London-Brighton mainline, but this country is infamous for poor choices and short-term decisions that made little sense at the time, and even less looking back.

I’d reached Groombridge by this point and discovered that it’s a much larger village than I realised. My plan had been t call in for a quick and well-earned pint at the Junction Inn, one of two pubs in a village which is divided unequally between Kent and Sussex. For the record, the smallest, and oldest part of Groombridge is located on the Kent side of the river Grom, and the picturesque, 16^th Century, Crown Inn, overlooking the green, is the better-known pub.

The 19^th Century Junction Inn, on the Sussex side, is more functional, and down to earth, and as it is many years since my last visit there, I was keen to pop inside and take a look. Unfortunately, I took a wrong turning and found myself heading down towards the busy B2110 Tunbridge Wells-East Grinstead road. So, with a bus due in 15 minutes, and with an hour’s wait until the next one, I headed for the nearby bus shelter to await the arrival of the 291 bus. 

Arriving back in Tunbridge Wells, at the top of the town, I dived into Fuggles where I enjoyed a very tasty and well-deserved pint of Gadd’s HPA. I exchanged a few pleasantries with Fuggles owner, Alex Grieg, before spotting Clive and Martin, two friends from CAMRA. I joined them for a pint plus a catch-up chat, that was inevitably about walking, but whilst I was tempted to stay for another, I thought it was time to be getting home, and grab a bite to eat as well. 

There is now just one section of the TWCW left to do, and that is the six mile stretch between Groombridge and Southborough. Weather and other commitments permitting, I aim to knock this section on the head, sooner rather than later. To be continued……………………..

 

So, just a couple of posts after my disclosure that I wasn’t a massive fan of Cellar Head beers, news broke that the company, had ceased trading, with immediate effect, and would be going into administration. Founders Chris & Julia McKenzie posted the news on social media, thanking their team, their supporters and everyone who, over the years, had bought a pint of Cellar Head over the years, or spent time with the team at the brewery tap room.

According to the statement the pair put out, they had spent time over the past few weeks trying to find a buyer for the business, but whilst there had been plenty of interest, no one willing to take the risk necessary to move the business on to the next chapter, could be found. This means Cellar Head, now join the growing band of small, independent brewers that have hit the buffers in recent months, blaming the financial climate, vastly increased production costs, plus a market that was already struggling.

It's always sad when a business goes under and whilst Cellar Head beers never really did it for me, I know that they did for numerous others. The company was founded in 2017, and seemed to hit the ground running, as suddenly their beers seemed to be everywhere, along with their distinctive logo of a ZZ Top look-alike, cool dude. Cellar Head cask beers are un-fined, which means they carry a natural haze and are also vegan-friendly. In addition, they do not filter or pasteurise their bottled beers and neither do they artificially carbonate them. Instead, they undergo a natural secondary fermentation in the bottle which, they claim, results in a gentle, light fizz which gives a more refined texture and mouthfeel.

In 2019, Cellar Head moved to new premises at Flimwell, on the Kent- Sussex border, and in April of that year I visited them in their new home, with a party from West Kent CAMRA. We were on our way back from a visit to Harvey’s brewery in Lewes, and the tour organiser thought it a good idea to call in at Cellar Head as well. The brewery was holding an open day, a function they used to hold once a month. Having just visited Harvey's, I was a little bit beered-up to fully appreciate what Cellar Head had on offer that day, but as  I wrote at the time, the rural setting of their brewery, and the family audience they attracted, reminded me of the visit I made the year before, to the Vanish Woods Brewery in rural Virginia, USA.

During 2023 the number of UK breweries going bust, tripled compared to the year before, as consumers looked for cheaper due to the cost-of-living crisis. This combined, with rising overheads, has led to a wave of insolvencies, and the trend looks likely to continue as we move into the second quarter of 2024. The craft beer market, in particular, has become heavily overpopulated over the past decade, and many of these brewers find themselves fighting for a place in a shrinking market.

I know that I am not the only industry observer who thinks that the number of new cask ale and craft beer brewers is unsustainable, and yet despite all the warnings new start-ups continue coming out of the woodwork. The rate of new brewery openings does seem to be tailing off, but despite this CAMRA continues its unqualified support, by loudly cheering on each new start up.

I haven’t got time today, but when I’m a little less rushed, there are a couple of stories I could tell of ill-advised start-ups, and of well-meaning advice ignored, all for it to end in tears. In the meantime, lovers of Cellar Head beers will have to look for a substitute tipple, although with at least two new breweries that have come on the scene locally, during the past year, they won’t have to look very far.

 

I’ve been having a bit of a clear out of my beer stash recently, and as reported in a previous pot unearthed a bottle of Sam Smith’s Yorkshire Stingo. I also uncovered another of Humphrey’s beers, in the form of a bottle of Winter Welcome which, despite being nearly six months past its BBE date, still drank exceptionally well.There will probably be a write-up later about this seasonal winter special, but for now I want to describe a couple of craft beers that I picked up on last autumn’s cruise, in Cagliari – capital of the large Mediterranean island of Sardinia.  

On a blisteringly hot day, and after leaving Mrs PBT’s in the relative coolness of the Queen Victoria, I departed from the port area, and headed up into Cagliari’s old town. You can read more about my brief visit to this bustling Sardinian port here, although if truth be known I was content to sit at a table outside one of the many cafés and bars, overlooking the old market square.I only made it so far though, as beyond the main square there is a much steeper ascent up into what must have been the original part of the town. An imposing, and impregnable looking fortress dominates this area, as does a majestic cathedral, but I was content to sit for a while, enjoying a light snack, plus a couple of refreshing beers at a table outside one of the many cafés and bars, overlooking the old market square. 

The beer was as slightly cloudy IPA, produced by a craft brewery based on the Italian mainland, called Birra del Borgo. Suitably refreshed, I decided to gradually make my way back to the ship, whilst taking in a bit more of Cagliari on the way. I hadn’t gone far before I chanced upon a shop specialising in local Sardinian produce.  

 Il Cuore dell’ Isola di Abbi, in the Piazza Yenne, just off the historic city centre, provided a welcome break from the heat, with its air-conditioned interior, so I was happy to stay inside and browse for a while. Not having taken any photo of the exterior, I couldn’t remember the name of the shop, but fortunately, and almost quite by accident, Google came to the rescue, and I was able to instantly recognise the place whilst searching for the name, and origin of the two artisanal beers I bought.  One was a blond lager, whilst the other was a red one. Both beers are sold under the Cuore dell’ Isola brand, and this applies to much of the produce as well. The shop also contained a small restaurant, although that seemed closed at the time of my visit.

So, some six months after purchasing the beers, I finally got round to drinking them. Both were unfiltered and unpasteurised, in other words they were “bottle conditioned”, and I have to ask the question, why? CAMRA used to claim that bottle conditioned ales (BCA’s), were the equivalent of “real ale in a bottle”, even though there’s no such thing, and increasingly over the years I’ve become increasingly wary of such beers, and with good reason. The red lager was alright, but the blond one fobbed all over the place. It’s a shame, as it was a pretty good beer, although that’s of little comfort when the bottle is behaving like Mount Vesuvius, and the contents are spreading their way all over my computer desk, quicker than I can mop them up! 

I thought I’d seen the last of fobbing bottles, but this one was certainly on the lively side, despite having been kept refrigerated for several hours. Coincidentally, I’m drinking another lively BCA at the moment, in the form of a bottle of Rakau Pils, from the London’s The Kernel Brewery. The bottle didn’t fob, but the beer was rather too well-conditioned, so much so that it was impossible to pour the entire 330ml contents into a pint glass, in one movement. Three different Kernel beers were included as “guests” in this month’s shipment from Braybrooke, which is why I am now drinking one of them. I’m a little bit peeved, if truth be known, as I signed up to receive Braybrooke beers, rather than brews from other breweries, however good their reputation.

Let’s move on now from fobbing BCA’s, and return to Sardinia, and I mean that quite literally because in a couple of months’ time Mrs PBT’s and I will be making a further visit to this attractive Mediterranean island, having booked another cruise. This time we will be sailing on Cunard’s newest cruise ship, the Queen Anne, and apart from two days in Italy, will mainly be visiting Spain. The second of our two days on Italian soil, will be spent in Alghero, which is in the north-west of Sardinia. As well as being a major resort, Alghero is described as one of Sardinia's most beautiful medieval cities. The town, with its historic centre, is within easy walking distance of the port, so there will be no need to book excursions, or queue for shuttle buses. This should mean that Mrs PBT’s will be able to spend some time ashore – something she is keen to do owing to her claimed Sardinian ancestry of 1%!

A few word of explanation. Seven or eight years ago, Eileen and I both submitted saliva samples to the online genealogical research/data-base company, Ancestry, and on the last update we received regarding our DNA, Mrs PBT’s came back showing 1% of her genetic makeup was Sardinian in origin. A relatively tiny amount, of course, but interesting because due to their isolated positions from mainland areas, island populations often tend to exhibit some very specific genetic markers, that are unique to that particular location.

Anyway, that set the lady of the house off on a train of thought, that sometime in the dim and distant past, someone with connections to Sardinia contributed a small amount of their DNA, to her genetic makeup. I suggested a sailor, as the most likely candidate, although at the end of the day, it’s just a bit of fun really, but still, something to tease her about, when I get the chance.

Finally, a few words about Sardinia’s smaller, but still quite sizable Mediterranean island neighbour, Corsica. One of my work colleagues has a Corsican wife, and so is a regular visitor to the island, along with the rest of the family. I’m sure he particularly enjoys spending Christmas in the relatively, but he also told me that Corsican's pay a lower rate of duty on both alcohol and tobacco. My colleague no longer smokes, although he still enjoys a drink, and showed me a few photos of locally produced, super-strength beers. Not my cup of tea, but my workmate is partial to the odd bottle of McEwan’s Champion, or even Fuller’s Golden Pride. I’m not sure why or how this differential duty rate for Corsica, came about and I can find little about it online, but seems like a suitable ending for this post, on nearby Sardinia.