September 2023. Royal Tunbridge Wells.
Out on my bit of respite from in-law drama, I was heading aimlessly towards the Pantiles,
when it suddenly occurred to me what a scruffy town Tunbridge Wells is, particularly around the main station.
On the Clive Bull show on LBC this morning a lady called Sophie from Reading said, and I quote
“I’m not saying the North is rough or anything (she was). I’ve never been there“. Sophie should go and see Hebden or Halifax or Holmfirth and compare them with Farnborough and Aldershot.
Yes, **** the council.
But it all perks up as you leave the station,
and the approach to the Pantiles is one of Britain’s finest.
It’s a bit quiet, I discover why shortly, and the pubs (Youngs and Fullers, mostly) are ticking over at bet.
And here’s the spa water. CAMRA says “this is probably NOT real ale“.
When it opened the eponymous tap was good enough for the GBG,
but scrapping the cask and focusing on beers called “Turtles All The Way Down” is a sure-fire way to lose that coveted GBG licensee pack.
Or perhaps
the CAMRAs don’t like the scatter cushions.
Nor did I, and I wasn’t spending the last half hour of summer in a cellar with the sun beating down and blaring emo soundtrack, and sank a gorgeous pint of Duration out on the benches.
Two keg bars in a row, how to wash that craft filth out of my mouth before I succumb to the 10% Cloudwater (good job I’d left Mrs RM back in Southborough).
retiredmartin 
The Pantiles Tap experienced difficulties with keeping cask. There was some clause relating to the historic nature of the building that prohibited external coolers – aesthetics, I imagine.
Because of these restrictions, the pub was unable to cool the cellar, and warm cask was never going to sell. As your photo of the chalkboard shows, the Tap offers a good selection of craft, but sadly no cask
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It was rather quiet late Sunday afternoon, though the number of empty glasses left on the table opposite tells me it had been busy earlier. I’ve no issue with pubs concentrating on keg, there’s plenty of cask around.
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I was in Cheltenham a couple of days back and that’s another town which is often thought of as rather well-to-do; but poke around behind the façade and it soon becomes obvious that’s it’s as rough as a badger’s arse.
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I think that provincial towns per se are struggling these days, Bobby.
See also Stamford, Malton, Chippenham, etc.
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Bobby,
“rough as a bear’s arse” where I come from.
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