In the previous post you left me outside the Bear in
village of Hartfield, waiting for the 291 bus to carry me in a westerly
direction to Coleman’s Hatch. I had a rather late appointment to keep there at
the Hatch Inn, which was the pub I should have visited first, on this little
outing, in view of its 11:30 opening time. I shan’t bother repeating the story
again, but oversleeping that morning, if only by about 20 minutes, rather put a
spanner in the works. I was still keen to visit the Hatch Inn, after being
impressed with the place on previous visits, and this is despite the pub being
regarded as quite an upmarket drinking house.
I like the setting of the pub itself, as well, standing as
it does on the edge of Ashdown Forest, where it forms a big attraction for
those wanting to escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Originally a
row of three cottages dating back to 1430, the Hatch Inn became an inn during the
18th century, when it was known as the “Cock.” It was later renamed
the Hatch, at Coleman’s Gate, which is one of the gates, or “Hatches” that
lead onto Ashdown Forest. The inn is one of several in the area, and the allure
of this low, dark building nestled into the landscape, contributes to the
allure of this atmospheric old inn.
The Hatch Inn has earned numerous accolades, featuring in The Good Pub Guide, AA Best Pubs, AA Best Pub Food, Country Life Magazine, Time
Out Magazine, and the Daily Telegraph’s Best of British Pubs, among others,
which perhaps explains its upmarket reputation. This would be my third visit to
the Hatch Inn, but a work colleague who knows the area better than I do admits
to having indulged in a spot of celebrity spotting at the pub. I can’t remember any of these people’s names,
but rather than trying to impress, my workmate was attempting to illustrate just
how much money there, is floating round locally.
As for Ashdown Forest, it’s an ancient area of Outstanding Natural
Beauty, and with its highest point reaching 732 feet above sea level its views
are legendary, stretching as far as the North Downs and South Downs, depending
on which way you are looking. So, whether it’s a gentle stroll before lunch or
a more challenging trek to build your appetite for an evening meal, the Forest
offers a diverse range of fauna and flora, heathland and forest. I’ve written
before about how my walking friend Eric, and I traversed the Forest as part of our
Wealdway Walk, in 2010.
The 291 metro bus services include a
feature where some
buses have a visual display indicating the name of the next stop, and in some
cases, this is also announced audibly. However, not all buses are equipped with
these features, and some that do have them may not have them switched on. This
can be a disadvantage for bus travel, especially if you are unfamiliar with the
route, as it makes it difficult to know where the stops are and increases the
possibility of getting off at the wrong stop.
The bus I took lacked an information system, but
fortunately, I had a rough idea of where to disembark based on my previous
visit. As we approached the church at Coleman’s Hatch, I recognised it was time
for me to get off. I pressed the button, and the bus came to a halt—not too
abruptly, although the driver still seemed slightly surprised. After leaving
the bus, I crossed the road to check the return times. I realised then that I
would not have much time at the pub, so determined to make the most of my
visit, I headed up the hill towards the Hatch Inn. Although I could have
extended my visit and taken a later bus back, I was determined to visit at
least one other pub before returning to Tunbridge Wells.
It was a warm and balmy summer’s day as I walked up the hill and across
the junction at the top, which was the point where, almost hidden on the other
side of the junction, was the Hatch Inn, peeping out from behind the trees and
looking splendid in the late spring sunshine. The majority of customers were
sitting outside taking advantage of the sun at on it inside and ordered myself
a pint of 360° Double Act, a 3.9% abv pale ale, which certainly hit the spot,
after my uphill walk. It was too nice to sit inside though, so after a quick nose
around to re-acquaint myself with the pub, I headed back outside and found a
seat at one of the tables.
I sat there enjoying my nice hoppy beer, along with the general ambience
of this quiet rural pub. Many of the customers seemed to be agricultural or forestry
workers, who were no doubt celebrating the end of the working week – in the
best way possible with a pint or two of refreshing beer. Unfortunately, I had
to rush my pint, despite not really wanting to, so after drinking up I headed
back down towards the church, at Coleman’s Hatch, and the bus stop. The latter is
in an unfortunate position being directly on a bend which means passengers have
to stand out, partially in the road just to make sure that the bus driver sees
them.
Despite me being at the stop in good time, I had a 20-minute wait before
the bus finally appeared. I was left thinking that I needn’t have rushed my
pint, but also that I should have visited the Gents, before leaving. I was
tempted to get off a couple of stops before Hartfield and call in at the Gallipot
Inn, an attractive little pub overlooking the B2110, but after seeing the
place described as a bit of a “gastropub”, I decided to remain on the bus, and
stick with my original plan. This was to have my last pint at the good old Dorset Arms, which lies in the tiny hamlet of Withyham. That way, I’d be a little
closer to Tunbridge Wells.
The Dorset is a pub I’ve known for a long time, as for many years it was
Harvey’s “show pub”. However, it turns out the pub didn’t actually belong to the brewery,
but was only leased to them. The real owners are Buckhurst Estates, as referenced
by the signs in front of the pub. To all intents and purposes, the Dorset might
as well be a Harvey’s pub, because as far as cask is concerned, their Best
Bitter, plus the occasional season offering, are the only beers on sale. I rushed
in and promptly alarmed the barmaid by asking for directions to the toilet. Needs
must and all that, but after feeling very relieved, I headed back to the bar
and ordered a very good fine pint of Sussex Best.
There was quite a crowd in the bar, similar in nature to the drinkers at
the Hatch Inn. So, builder types, and agricultural workers again, people who’d finished
their shift for the day, or even the week, and enjoying a few well-earned pints.
As with the Hatch, I took my beer outside and found a convenient spot on the
terrace, just outside the entrance to the pub, where I could sit and watch the
world go by. My contemplation’s were interrupted by the appearance of a member
of the kitchen staff who was taking a break, following a busy shift. Her
appearance was quite fortuitous, as she gave me the Wi-Fi code for the pub. This
was handy as with a non-existent 4G signal, I’d been unable to confirm the bus
times back to Tunbridge Wells.
Not long after, it was time for me to go, and with another dodgy bus
stop right opposite the pub, I had to stand out in the road again to flag the
vehicle down. Fortunately, the bus driver saw me as he rounded the bed, so
there was no need for any heroics on my part. It had been a good day out
visiting these four fine, and largely unspoilt Sussex pubs, and it’s an
exercise I wouldn’t mind repeating. Next time I shall head a bit further west,
to take in Forest Row and East Grinstead. The 291 bus dropped me in the centre of Tunbridge Wells, and I headed towards
the RVP for, yet another pee stop. When I emerged from the shopping centre, there
was a No. 7 bus waiting at the stand, which took me back to Tonbridge, and
home.
