It’s 19th October, just past the middle of the month, and soon it will be all downhill towards December and the onset of winter.  Fortunately, two or three of days of unseasonably warm weather, fuelled by some most welcome sunshine, has helped lift spirits and allowed me to get some outdoor, domestic chores completed, as well as including a visit to the local tip (waste recycling centre?). This left Friday (yesterday), free for a long overdue “Pub Friday”, and what's more it came with Mrs PBT's blessing. I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve that, but never look a gift horse in the mouth, as they say. The question was which pub to visit, a dilemma I ended up mulling over for quite some time. What I really wanted to do was to enjoy a couple of pints Harvey's Old Ale, the dark and delicious seasonal offering from the brewery that is launched with a flurry of publicity at the start of October, and which continues on sale throughout the winter, and sometimes, well into early spring (March.) As its name suggests, it’s definitely a beer for the cooler months of the year, and it also happens to be one of my all-time favourite brews. The thought that the beer had already been sale for a couple of weeks, was sufficient to spur me into action, so I set about finding somewhere guaranteed to have it on sale. I added a caveat to this quest, in so much that ideally, I wanted to enjoy my first pint of this year’s Old, at a pub I’d either never been to before or, failing that, one I frequent very rarely. A Harvey’s tied house would be my best bet, and the easiest thing would have been to hop on the train towards Hastings, and alight at Frant – one stop down the line from Tunbridge Wells, and close to the village of Bells Yew Green where it would almost certainly be on sale at the delightful Brecknock Arms, just five minutes’ walk from Frant station. Slightly further afield, and involving a rather infrequent bus service, I could have visited the Elephant’s Head, an historic, part stone-built, half-timbered old Wealden building, where roaring log fires add to the sense of cosiness and comfort. The problem with that was, Friday was set to be another unseasonally warm, mid-October day, more suited to sitting out in the garden, than huddled around a blazing wood fire. It was then that the idea of visiting the Wheatsheaf at Jarvis Brook came into my head. The Wheatsheaf is a Harvey’s pub, which meant it was far more likely to have the Old Ale on sale. It was also a pub that I’d never been to before, so that was two boxes ticked, for starters, but what about the pub itself? I'd obviously heard of the Wheatsheaf and the things I’d heard about it were good, but for some strange reason I had visions of a pub, situated in a suburban area and surrounded by the dull trappings that do with suburbia. Boy was I in for a shock, but it was a good shock, as I shall recount later. The first thing was to work out how to get there, sensibly and relatively quickly, using public transport. Bus was the logical choice, with the No. 29, Brighton & Hove operating a half hourly service between Brighton and Tunbridge Wells via Crowborough. Crowborough is a large and sprawling East Sussex town, with a population of roughly 21,000 souls. It lies within the High Weald Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty at the edge of Ashdown Forest. During the late 19th century, Crowborough was promoted as a health resort based on its high elevation, the rolling hills and surrounding forest. Some estate agents even called it "Scotland in Sussex". The surrounding topography wasn’t exactly conducive to the rail travel, but despite this potential barrier the railways reached the town in 1868, leading to significant growth for Crowborough. The railway station is located to the southeast of the town centre at Jarvis Brook. It is a thirty-minute walk, or a fifteen-minute bus ride straight down Crowborough Hill to reach the station, which is on the Oxted- Uckfield line, operated by Southern  and providing a direct link with London Bridge, East Croydon, Edenbridge Town and Uckfield. The journey time to London Bridge is approximately one hour. The line itself has seen some much-needed investment in recent years, after being allowed to wither under the ownership of British Rail, but the severance of the onward southbound connection between Uckfield and Lewes, led to this former mainline, becoming something of a backwater. The truncation of the line at Uckfield, was the result of a road “improvement” scheme in the late 1960’s, combined with a reluctance on the part of BR, and the government of the time, to provide funding for a diversionary route. As a nation, we’re rather good at "short termism", and bad at planning for the future. Once Upon a time I could have caught a direct train from my home in Tonbridge down to Brighton, via Uckfield and Lewes, and this would have been the ideal way to journey to Jarvis Brook. The loss of the Uckfield-Lewes connection was further compounded in 1985, by the closure of the line from Tunbridge Wells West to Eridge, via Groombridge.  Both closures mean there is now no direct link between Tonbridge and Crowborough. Instead, one has to take a train on the Tonbridge-Redhill line, alight at Edenbridge top station, and then take a 25-minute walk to Edenbridge Town, which is on the line down from Oxted to Uckfield. I made use of this route for my journey home, but as far as my outward travel was concerned it was a nice day, my bus pass, entitles me to free travel, and the route taken by the No. 29 bus passes through some attractive rural scenery. I left the bus at Crowborough Cross and began the long descent from the town centre, down to Jarvis Brook. The walk was literally downhill all the way and seemed to go on forever. Here and there I caught glimpses of the surrounding hills, but most of the walk was through a pleasant mixed selection of late Victorian and early 20th century suburbia. The map on my phone indicated a right turn into Tollwood Road, and straight away there was a sudden change from urban suburbia to a narrow country lane that skirted an area of woodland know as Crowborough Country Park. This provided the ideal opportunity of emptying my bladder, something I would have done upon leaving the bus, if there had been the appropriate facilities! Fortunately, I wasn’t disturbed by itinerant joggers or local dog walkers and continued on my way feeling a lot more comfortable. It wasn't long before the road finally flattened out, and just around a bend on the left-hand side, and peeping through the trees, I could see the Wheatsheaf an attractive looking white painted weather boarded pub said to date back to the 1700s. For a moment my heart fluttered because I wasn't sure it was open, or not, even though I had checked the pub’s hours of trading, prior to setting out. I gingerly turned the handle of the front door, and stepped inside, finding myself in a lovely old, wood-panelled room with a step up to the right, where the bar area was situated. Brimming with anticipation I thankfully spotted the welcome sight of a pump clip indicating that Harvey’s Old was indeed on sale. I of course ordered myself a pint and am pleased to report that it was in fine form and brought back pleasant memories of past autumns and winters. The quality indicated by the first couple of mouthfuls, made the possibility of a second pint, almost inevitable, but in the meantime, I had a look around the pub. There were two other rooms, both furnished with open fireplaces, but on a day like last Friday there was no need for them to be lit. The Wheatsheaf wasn’t exactly full to overflowing but there were several couples, of various ages, enjoying a drink and a bite to eat. Disappointingly, very few of them seemed to be drinking the cask, an observation that was reinforced when I ventured outside. There a noisy group of builders-types were winding down for the week over a few drinks. To a man they all seemed to be necking back pints of lager – Moretti if the font on the bar was anything to go by Looking to have something more solid, to go with my beer I asked the barmaid about snacks. It was the usual range of crisps and nuts, or something more substantial from the kitchen, but if I wanted something in between, I could always have a bowl of chips. Sold to the man on the right! and furthermore, at the barmaid's suggestion, they were served to me outside, in the pleasant garden at the rear of the pub. That way I was able to enjoy what would probably be the last day of  warm, autumn sunshine. When my chips arrived, I sprinkled then liberally with salt, and tucked in. They proved the perfect accompaniment to the beer. I'd written down the train times prior to leaving home, and although Google Maps was indicating just a nine-minute walk to the station, I confirmed the route with the girl behind the bar. This was via a track at the rear of the pub, which opened up into an industrial estate. Soon after, I arrived at Crowborough station, with plenty of time to spare. I had to buy two tickets for the return journey, primarily because National Rail can’t comprehend there are two stations at Edenbridge, separated by a 25-minute walk. My journey from Crowborough, represented the first time that I’d travelled northwards, on that stretch of line, but it was a pleasant journey across the Sussex-Kent border, taking me through station such as Eridge, Ashurst, and Hever, before arriving at Edenbridge Town. There was sufficient time to walk up to the top station where; after buying my second ticket, I boarded the train back to Tonbridge.  It had been a most pleasant day out, and furthermore I’d found a marvellous little pub. How I could have spent the best part of 40 years living within easy travelling distance of the Wheatsheaf, and not visited the place, is beyond, but that’s what happens when you allow preconceptions and prejudices to cloud your judgment. The rather boring, suburban pub that was fixed in my mind, tunes out toe be nothing of the sort, and instead I found one of the best rural alehouse I have enjoyed in a long time. Follow Blog via Email Click to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

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