5th February 2020
Our favourite Kentish blogger Paul Bailey is doing a great job avoiding me (or it the other way round ?).
First a trip to Dundee when I joined Mrs RM in Tonbridge last month, and now my flying visit to Charcott coincides with his Welsh funeral. We’ll probably catch up somewhere weird like Burton.
Dangerously close to where Mrs RM is working at the minute and my lovely in-laws, the Greyhound is a short hop from posh Penshurst station, and a great way to finish Kent.
Yes, I’m really racing through the counties now; big spreadsheet coming up.
The Greyhound will make a great destination pub for walkers when the paths dry up a bit. The birdsong alone was worth the trip.
It’s only 5 minutes off the A21, and you can stay in this lovely B&B and stagger home the 100 yards from the pub.
Charcott is barely a hamlet, so a pub only recently saved by ACV (discuss) relies on trade from the bustling metropolises of Tonbridge and Penshurst.
I arrived to find about 20 cars parked in a yard opposite, but that turned out to be the eponymous body repair shop. It couldn’t do much for my Aygo.
Pubs in hamlets fall into two camps. Drinking clubs open 4 nights a week from 5pm, and often classic, and dining pubs drawing in gentlefolk from neighbouring village while keeping a seat for Bert and Dave to sink a pint and debate parking charges.
I turned up when they were taking a break from diners, but luckily still opened to serve foaming pints of 3.4% Larkins (NBSS 3.4, coincidentally) to a few cheery locals, one of whom had just been “propositioned”.
“After all that excitement I’ve got to go home and put the slow cooker on” he told us.
A lovely half hour, with the Stones for a soundtrack, and the sort of banter you just don’t here in Surrey.
“My advice is, don’t eat lettuce before bedtime. It’s all downhill from there”
“Aye, it’s the tip of the Iceberg !”
“I’m nicking that” I said, as I headed for the marvellous Gents. And I have.
What have so many pubs got against everyone from Josiah Wedgwood to Armitage Shanks?
Does Paul from Staffs know? It’s not doing that county much good, is it?
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I suppose that serving meals on slates might help Blaenau Ffestiniog.
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I think the slate quarries at Blaenau are long gone Etu, apart from perhaps acting as a tourist attraction.
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Yes, first ( before my time ) pottery pint mugs were replaced by glass glasses, then proper plates are being replaced by pieces of slate and now sturdy urinals are being replaced by all sorts of silly things.
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It does seem as though we’re avoiding each other Martin, but both my “foreign” trips arose at relatively short notice. Burton is still looking good at the moment, though.
Glad you enjoyed your visit to Charcott; I found out when I got back to work that the Greyhound had dropped the food for a week – to give the staff a break, apparently.
There are often several old boys gathered close to the bar, so the banter is normally very good – just don’t mention the “B” word! The jovial owner of the B&B sometimes pops in as well.
A real success story, and deservedly so, which goes to prove that in the right hands even pubs that appear to be lost causes, can be brought back from the dead.
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I didn’t want you to think I was avoiding you, Paul !
The Greyhound had been the only Kent pub I needed to do for nearly a month and I had to scratch an itch!
Glad I hadn’t left it to the weekend.
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Love that iceberg lettuce gag!!
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Made me laugh out loud 😊
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