12th January 2020
If Whitstable was in Suffolk I’d hate it and make rude pashmina jokes about the wrong sort of Joules.
Last time here I did a couple of micropubs whose owners convinced of their sides chances in the last cup match. West Ham beat Man United but the Black Dog and Handsome Sam fight on in the GBG, the only competition that counts.
I even popped in today’s Guide newbie four years ago, but they only serve coffee till 4pm so I was scuppered.
As so often, my second visit last Wednesday was scuppered by the micro equivalent of the January flu that besets weaker PubMen.
I sometimes think they don’t want your business. Or they want a holiday.
Still, Sundays are still fairly reliable, but never save a micro till your last pub of the evening is my advice.
Just time to tick the Mona Lisa.
The Twelve Taps was my penultimate tick, leaving just one pub left in Kent that shouldn’t be difficult, so I ignored the Gin sign and marched in.
Straight to the loo, whose gender neutrality will delight some (me included) and stir the fires of Hades for others.
If you’re after bench seating, handpumps and wheezing Old Boys, you’ll not have ong to wait, but Twelve Taps is just the cheery modern beer bar I’ve subjected Stafford Paul to in Bath, Leeds and Stafford.
The seating, squeezed against the wall, is truly dreadful, as bad as that New Mills place.
I couldn’t tell the difference between the cask and KeyKeg on the board either, but I’m past caring about such ecumenical matters.
The Cloudwater Pale was superb, just as the coffee had been last time, and I can’t knock a place filled with youngsters drinking beer when they should be at school church the lifestyle store.
With 20 minutes to spare I squeezed my gut down Squeeze Gut Alley, which celebrates the time Messrs Difford and Tilbrook came here for a kebab.
Talking of late ’70s pop legends, I saw Bob Geldof here in the tat street. What a man.
Londoners still come here in their hundreds on winter Sundays, drawn by Shepherd Neame, scarves and sunsets like the one over the Old Neptune.
At least it leaves Thanet to the likes of me.
Is there any aspect of that venue I wouldn’t consider to be “truly dreadful”?
I think I would prefer Kashenda – or the Rifle Drum..
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I’ve been in most of the pubs of Whitstable and it’s spoilt in that way, I think.
I’ve not been in the Twelve Taps as yet though – I don’t know why – maybe it’s the gin sign?
It’s always nice to see pictures of the Old Neptune at various times of year, so thanks Martin.
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Kashenda? Is that a new hipster place you frequent in Stafford? Or a renamed Kash bar in Chester?
(Genuine question).
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It’s one of your photos above.
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Oh it’s a village in Congo. One for the next Beer and Pubs Day Out.
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Hello Martin, sorry a bit of travel took me away from your blog for a while; I must be careful because if I don’t keep up I find myself unable to catch all the inside jokes. 😉
The table in that “Actual seat” photo looks like it is quite literally not even as big as the width of a record sleeve.
I reckon women have the most to lose with a gender neutral toilet situation, surely. Women’s toilets can’t possibly be as horrific as some men’s toilets I’ve encountered over the years (not that I’ve been into any women’s toilets to know for sure!).
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I don’t want to get too involved in this debate, but in relation to the state women’s toilets are often left in, quite a few ladies will tell you otherwise!
This might just be inverse “bragging rights” but, as I said, this is not a path I wish to venture down, so let’s change the subject.
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Venture not down that path, and anyone who’s been to France will know we’re lucky here.
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You’re still allowed to travel in the States? Wow.
Inside jokes? You mean the nonsense I guess.
Yes! Tables smaller than an LP. Goodness knows where you put your newspaper.
Making jokes about men’s toilet standards isn’t very woke Mark 😉 I’m sure BRAPA managed to hit those train lines, never see a lady do that.
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Back in 2010, I wrote, “Whitstable has become second home territory for an increasing number of affluent Londoners; colour supplement readers Guardianista’s and the like! There has been the inevitable rise in property prices, and this influx of high-spending “outsiders” has led to a sharp increase in what pubs and restaurants are charging their customers. Whitstable isn’t quite Southwold (yet), but it’s fast becoming so.”
You can read more, here. http://paulsbeertravels.blogspot.com/2010/05/whitstable.html
I still rather like the place, though.
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Good read, and I’ve stuck a belated comment on your blog. A post without a comment is a sad thing.
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Thanks Martin.
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To tell you the truth I was unclear about what was cask/key keg/keg here too. If you know any of any weak pubmen complaining of flu report them to me. Great post and pics.
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I’ll self report myself as a weak pubman, Duncan.
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I should have taken Stafford Paul in with me, he’d have asked. And then popped over the road to the Ship Centurion.
I’ve had that “problem” a few times in GBG pubs, Elsecar and Ashbourne I think.
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Those two are all key keg (though still haven’t done Ashbourne), though that one a CAMRA compliant. Ecumenical indeed.
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“CAMRA compliant” . Phew. I had a can of coke in the Stockbury Harrow as only botted beer available. Guess that’s also compliant.
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That’s more complaint than compliant
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“he’d have asked” – not if I’d gone Monday to Wednesday or before 1pm.
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Quite partial to a bit of Boomtown Rats…”She’s So Modern” is one of THE ultimate pop songs…last time heard the ecumenical was on Father Ted! Well done on raising the bar…
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