The first stop on last Friday’s outing, was the lovely old Crown
Inn, overlooking the green in the Kent half of Groombridge. Living where I do, I’m
bound to say that the Kentish side is by far the most picturesque and
attractive part of the village, especially when one considers the tile- hung
Crown along with the adjacent houses overlooking the green. The nearby Groombridge
Place, a moated manor house known for its formal gardens and vineyards, is
another point of interest. This former tourist attraction is currently closed
and awaiting conversion into a boutique hotel and luxury spa.
The Sussex part of Groombridge is a far more recent settlement.
The growth of this area was likely due to the arrival of the railway in the
late 19th century. Groombridge Junction was an important part of the rail network in this part of the country but it gradually lost its significance not just because of the infamous Beeching cuts, but also due to a shameful lack of investment by the Thatcher government, some 20 years later. The “Iron Lady”, of course, wasn’t a fan of the railways, and in 1985 encouraged a cash-strapped British
Rail to close the Eridge line in order to save money. Although the savings were minimal,
the sale of railway property, especially the impressive Tunbridge Wells West station, generated
substantial revenue for the government, but not for British Rail.
I digress, and the Crown Inn is a pub I became acquainted
with right from the start of my time working in Tonbridge, and several years before
I actually moved to the town. This was because the company I worked for, operated
in the field of water treatment. We had a new piece of kit that the local water
company allowed us to have on test, at their Groombridge pumping station. “Just
driving over to Groombridge to check on the chart-recorder,” was code for disappearing, during work time, to carry out a quick
check of the equipment, a task that was then followed by a pint or two at the Crown Inn.
And why not? for this
splendid old inn has a timeless atmosphere that seems to have changed very
little over the years. It reminds me of what pubs were like when I first
started drinking back in the early 70’s. Stepping inside, one is greeted by a
heavily beamed public room, overseen by a bar counter. A couple of open
fireplaces provide welcome warmth during winter, whilst a separate restaurant-cum-dining
room leads off to the right and the rear. To the left of the bar, and the fireplace,
is what is almost a private or snug bar, adorned with some wonderful old
advertising posters. I’m not sure whether they genuine or repro, but they
certainly add to the feel of this part of the pub.
As well as a restaurant the Crown offers accommodation, in
four comfortable period rooms. Given the age of the building, I would imagine
that the stairs up to the rooms must be both steep and narrow. I was a bit wary
myself, when returning from the Gents, as there are some quite steep steps down
into the snug. (The same obviously applies to the Ladies as well). So if you have
mobility issues the Crown is probably not the pub for you.
When I arrived on Friday, there was a couple sitting out at
one of the tables overlooking the green, and with several other bench tables spare,
I thought I would join them. Thirst things first, and I popped inside, and
ordered a pint of Sussex Best. The other choice was Larkin’s Traditional, a beer
that is not there amongst my favourites, as I would much rather see the brewery’s Best
Bitter adorning the bar. That’s just me, as the 3.4% Trad is the best-selling
beer by far, in the Larkin’s cannon. (Something about it being a low-strength
session beer, that you can have a couple of without risking your licence.)
It was very pleasant sitting outside, sunning myself, although
soon afterwards, a very thirsty looking rambler appeared, climbing up the hill,
with a huge rucksack on his back, complete with a bedding roll and sleeping bag
slung underneath. This individual wasn’t your average rambler out for a country
stroll, instead this was someone who was doing some serious walking.
He asked
if I would keep an eye on his pack while he went inside and ordered himself at
pint. “Of course,” I replied and when he returned, I asked him where he was
heading for, and where had he come from. It turned out he was following a route
of his own choosing, that didn’t take in any of the better-known footpaths, but
his route was taking him deeper into Sussex for an overnight stop. Before drinking
up and returning my empty glass to the bar, I bid farewell to this intrepid
hiker and wished him well on his lengthy journey.
I wandered down the road, and across bridge over the river Grom,
which separates the Kent side of Groombridge, from the Sussex side. I didn’t
have long to wait until the next 291 bus heading towards East Grinstead, came
along. My destination was the village of Hartfield, a large, and well laid out settlement,
with a famous literary connection on the one hand, plus a rather tragic ending
for a musical legend, on the other.
I don’t want the rather obvious connection
between Winnie the Pooh author A.A. Milne, and Rolling Stones’ guitarist and founder member,
Brian Jones, both of whom lived at Cotchford Farm, to the southwest of
Hartfield, to overshadow this piece, so I shall leave you to do your own research
here. What I will say is that the village pub, formerly known as the Anchor,
has recently been transposed into the Bear, picking up on the Winnie the Pooh
stories, written by Alan Alexander Milne, during the 1920’s.
I suppose one can’t blame the pub’s owners for cashing in on
the Christopher Robin stories, but the Bear seems a strange name for a pub because
there aren’t any bears in this part of the world. Come to think of it, the
Anchor is also an unusual pub name in an area where there aren’t any ships! That
said, apart from the new name, little seems to have changed at this substantial
two bar pub, parts of which date from the 14th century. According to
Google, I last visited the Anchor/Bear 10 years ago, although I thought I’d
been to the pub since then. As Google doesn’t lie, that 2016 visit would have been on an outing by vintage bus, that I undertook, with friends from Maidstone CAMRA
branch. On that occasion we enjoyed a pre-booked pub-lunch in the spacious
dining area at the rear of the pub.
Last Friday was slightly different, as I sat in the smaller
of the pub’s two bars, situated at the front of the pub, and reached from the street
by an attractive, colonial-style veranda. This feature is repeated in the building
next door which, if you look closely, is a former pub. Known as the Hay Waggon,
it was closed, and up for sale, back in 2016, and today, it has become a
private residence.
A very nice-looking residence, mind you, and decked out,
like its neighbour, with Union flags, to commemorate the recent VE Day, 80th
anniversary celebrations. The article I wrote at the time, records that many
years ago I called in for a drink at the Hay Waggon whilst on a cycle
ride through the area. That would have been with the previous Mrs Bailey, but I
only have very vague memories of that occasion and am struggling to remember the
route we would have taken, as we lived in Maidstone at the time.
Back to the present, and there was a pleasant and relaxed atmosphere
in the bar on Friday, with a mixed group of customers, some eating, but most just
drinking, like me. The beer range was divided between Harvey’s and Long Man Brewery,
with Best Bitter plus Sisters’ Table Beer from the former, plus Long Blonde,
Copper Hop from the latter. I opted for a pint of Copper Hop which, as it says
on the pump-clip, is a hoppy, amber ale. The most popular beer though, seemed
to be Cruzcampo, the 4.4% abv
Spanish lager which for the young and trendy, aka “fickle”, appears to be the
new Madri. Brewed in Seville, a city that I would like to visit on my next trip
to Spain, and a place where I’m sure the Cruzcampo would taste much better, than
in an English village. To be continued…………………………………………………..
