BRAPA .... LIVING KENT FREE IN MY HEAD (WEST ISN'T ALWAYS BEST)

Saturday 7th December 2024

I'd never been stalked by a storm before, but any hopes I'd had of leaving Darragh in Wrexham 30 hours previously were quashed when he turns up at London Bridge station on Saturday morning. Like, leave me alone dude!

I was Sevenoaks bound for my first Kent trip of the 2024/25 season, a second overall with the ultimate Man of Kent Paul Godden - his knowledge of the county and pubs cannot be surpassed.

I think he's after Daddy BRAPA's regular 'BRAPA Person of the Year' in 2025 because back in September when the new GBG came out, he asked me to send me my map of Kent and devised a colour coded regionalised plan of campaign. Look, it is beautiful.

Today was 'Red' day. West Kent. With a blue amendment.

After getting in a florist's way, I see Paul's car from the rain soaked windows and hop in. Our 11am opener was also our furthest south, I like it when a plan comes together .....

All the best pubs have you sweating until you turn the latch to reveal they're actually open, and Rock, Chiddingstone Hoath (2860 / 5344) was no exception. This pub is up there with the Brenchley benchmark, Staplehurst, Ightham Common, Frittenden and other knowingly-ramshackle-hotch-potches I've probably forgotten about. Kent - second best pub county in the UK after West Midlands? The barmaid, who could be any age between 16-66 is wearing some fierce West Kent fashions, and I'm not exaggerating when I say the Larkins Porter is a late contender for BRAPA beer of the year. Paul had a try, but as he's driving, he'll be returning for a full-on sesh. Smoother than a liquorice baby's bum. Two giant dogs flop lazily on the floor, two blokes appear and look they are up for some vital morning pub maintenance, but if you thought our first (and best) pub would pass incident free, you're wrong. I pass Paul the GBG to do the highlighting. It is only right. I'm unsighted by Colin, but when he passes the book back across, he's done the Castle at Chiddingtstone instead! Echoes of evil Sidcup micro man. But unlike that unrepentant arse, Paul feels bad so I promise I'll not mention it ever again. Point off for the quirky unisex loos (I like to know where I stand, preferably at urinal) but excellent otherwise.

'What have I done?'

Paul's faux-pas (which we don't like to keep mentioning) shouldn't have been an issue anyway, easily rectified ... had the Castle in Chiddingstone been open. We drive up to it, but as suspected from Google research the previous night, a sign outside confirms what I'd read. Underground cavity discovered .... and we don't want any innocent pub tickers disappearing down that do we? Let's hope it is back soon, looks a good one.

Next up, still deep in that countryside surrounding Tonbridge we drive up to pub two, and Paul's Christmas bucket hat inspired me to buy a similar one, but mine ended up being made out of rabbit fur so don't tell my vegan sister .....

Today's standard of pubs declined steadily as we got closer to London .... funny that(!) so I'm glad to report that Dovecote Inn, Capel (2861 / 5345) was today's second best after The Rock. Plenty of activity around, and it becomes clear that Tonbridge's premier walking group are in. In fact, the landlady thinks we're part of them and nearly adds my drinks to their tab. Shame I'm so honest! The Larkins Traditional straight from the barrel ain't a patch on the porter, flat as a witches pancake, but is still in great nick. We admire one of those vaulted ceilings like they have at the Pluckley's Rose & Crown which Paul took me to last summer - I could just imagine cooing doves living it up in here. Landlady is soon back over because she's spotted Colin, and having great taste, she's a fan. Despite explaining BRAPA, she thinks I should come back here one day! Tricky to explain to a non-ticker "I really like your pub, but have absolutely zero inclination to return here at any point in my life!"

Time to start our tentative progression norf, to the edge of Sevenoaks, and having soothed me with classical music for the duration of our summer trip, Paul has an eclectic playlist today including the Flaming Lips, Little Richard and possibly Kylie, or someone who reminds me of Kylie anyway. Megadeath? Jason Donovan? Beer's kicking in already.

Windmill, Sevenoaks Weald (2862 / 5346) was the last pub today where I could 100% 'put my hand on my heart' (yes, that was a JD reference thanks) and say 'that wor a flippin' great effort'. Christmas party season of course was in full flow by 7th Dec and was gonna catch up with us eventually. What thrilled me most here was disparity between the hardworking insanely happy staff, and the sheer misery of the long table of Christmas dinnerers. Party hats on, crackers in hands, dreadful xmas jumpers, party horns hanging half way out of their mouths like wet cigarettes, and yet utter misery all round. Love to see it! So it was all a bit of a crowded kerfuffle, but sat just down from the bar, this Apparition Stout by Pig & Porter is a beer to almost rival that Larkins porter, and smoother than a Paul G drive through deepest Kentish countryside.

Speaking too soon, we nearly mow down a squirrel as we make our way down the country lanes in the direction of the humorously named Brasted. We were making great time, and the dark beers were flowing so nicely, a cheeky bit of roadkill to keep me sustained wouldn't have been a bad thing. Colin in fact decided to stick to OJ for this next one .....

Top split screen action from Paul

The cheeky chappie behind the bar seems tickled when Paul tells him why we are here. Nice bloke. Other staff peer over after that too. One of those places where wearing a supermarket style "Ask me about my cauliflower" badge would've worked wonders. Stanhope Arms, Brasted (2863 / 5347) - to my disappointment, we learn that the locals pronounce the village 'Bray-sted', as in 'I basted my Christmas turkey in Brasted'. Disappointingly 'Keeping up Appearances / Hyacinth'. You don't fool me, you'll always be a drunken lazy brasted in my eyes. In the shadow of a very handsome church, a decent pub atmosphere prevails, though unable to fully shake the tilted nose, uppity, too-close-to-London-for-comfort undercurrent. I've gone for a beer by Westerham (which I was pronouncing far too American, like Westurrrhaayym, but Paul puts me right). Paler than owt else today, but excellent. Not a fan of Musket so gave them a swerve. All in all, a pretty good pub, I recommend you go, and pronounce it the Yorkshire way! Oh, and Stanhope in Hullish is 'Stan-erp'.

Keep your eye on him Col, we know what he's like!

Today was all going amazingly well so far but with dusk setting and the notorious BRAPA fifth pub of the day on the blackest of horizons, I could sense we were about to encounter today's Christmas turkey (basted in brasted, or not).

Bullfinch, Riverhead (2864 / 5348) and what a shame that this was the one stain on the day , so totally up its own backside that Brasted suddenly felt like a parody pub on the Burnley to Accrington road. Paul even got grumbled at for taking a photo at the bar by some mardy snoot-biscuit. We were sat in a back dining room by then, a gastro-hole that has given up all pretence of being a pub several years ago. McMullen's aren't a chain that particularly 'wow' me, but when I think of Hertford and that glitzy former bank in Central London, I know they can deliver on occasion. Even a blazing fire didn't make it feel homely, though I sit here writing this on a zero degree day in thermals and gloves, refusing to put my heating on til lunchtime! Worst of all, this pub sullied my love for the humble bullfinch, a top bird. I first saw one after a shopping trip to L**ds with my Mum, Sister & Grandma in the summer holidays, probably 1994. I'd just bought Championship Manager on the Amiga which revolutionised my love of football management games, I'd just signed a 40 yr old Mick Tait on a free and my Mum calls me to the bathroom window because just over the pond, is a bullfinch. All off-red like a chubby chaffinch. Probably only seen two more in my life. Then I went back to CM93 and lost 2-1 at Mansfield.

The pubs were really packing the punters in now as afternoon slithered into evening, we had a bit of awkward parking to negotiate, but I can see the bloke on the pub sign peering back at me .....

Meet Samuel Palmer, Shoreham (2865 / 5349) and despite the mass of premature festive bodies in identical clothing, we are unanimous that this pub is a vast improvement on the last. Sam was an artist who called Shoreham 'the valley of vision' and mine is impaired as I crane my neck in search of a beer - onion and thyme soup? Festive hot chocolate? Are these Vault City specials? I end up on some local Sasquatch, beautiful hazy shite. The ceiling is fabulously low, even a short-arse like me has to be careful of his noggin, Kent loves a good low ceiling. Ever been to Little Gem Aylesford or Man of Kent Little Mill? Almost those levels of lowness. I'm quite annoyed at the dearth of seating for drinkers, especially considering how many people are here solely for drinks - very much a gastropub, but as time passes and the hubbub envelopes me, I'm happy enough to perch #NotBarBlockers . A decent ending to a good day.

'Can't believe we've all worn the same outfit, lolz!'

Even in the west, even when you've exhausted all Tonbridge and Tunbridge Wells options, Kent is good. That was today's conclusion. One excellent, one very good, one good, one quite good, one slightly better than okay, one poor. That's a decent return on a BRAPA day.

Thank you to Paul who drops me somewhere (Swanley? I always blank Swanley from my mind) and he has to get to Bedford to meet his other half who is doing Bedford things. As someone who has done Bedford things on several occasions, I know she'll be glad of the support in her quest to do Bedford things.

Back at KX in really good time, bet you can tell what happened next .....

I wasn't too surprised to see my favourite room reserved for a Christmas do, but in the long thin wooden corridor with an NBSS 4* ESB , huddled in with hat, coat and gloves still on, I really really enjoyed ... lots more than I had with Daddy B. in my favourite room a couple weeks previous.

And that was it. I must contact Paul about our 'next leg'. Might be able to mop up the likes of Dartford, Luddesdown on a London day, and maybe a Daddy B train day (Canterbury / Thanet area) in the summer, yes I am quite hopeful this is the year I finally crack Kent!

Thanks for reading, see you tomorrow / Sunday when I manage to go to Chester without being distracted by North Wales, but still get stranded.

Si