Isn't Twitter a funny thing? I'd not even decided myself that I would tackle the four GBG ticks in Tonbridge (my Kentish BRAPA debut) when a guy, he didn't follow me, I didn't follow him, contacted me and says 'if you are doing Tonbridge, I've got this nailed on pre-emptive for you'.
So by the time I'm finished in my first pub, the excellent very beery Nelson Arms , it is decision time. A SEVENTH pub? Madness. I'd turn into a pumpkin or something, surely. But hang about, because BRAPA clause 18.104.22.168 states quite clearly 'you are allowed halves in pre-emptives and don't have to stay the full 25 mins'. AND it is en route to my next pub. AND it is nice to be sociable occasionally. So off I popped to meet this Jon C fella.
Here it was, ignore the scary purple man who luckily wasn't off Twitter ......
|If he's paying, it is probably okay to be up here, but no need for rain mack on day like this|
|Sorry Colin, but no one cares |
|Mummy BRAPA is more sober than you or me|
|Definitely looking worse for wear already!|
Fuggles Beer Cafe, Tonbridge (1831) had been mentioned by a couple of people as a place I should definitely go to, which being in the GBG, of course I would. It didn't quite excite as the Beer Seller had, less pubby charisma, but being called 'beer cafe' perhaps a tell tale sign. A hospitable sickly looking chap who looked like he'd been in a Polish bunker since 1939 did well to find us a table plumb centre of the room. It was a bright, airy, expansive effort, with a jumpy lively middly twiddly aged atmosphere I grew into. Think we chose our ales off a menu, but my memory was shot by now. Downstairs spirally bogs is about the last thing I can remember. Jon and I had some nice chats, and it suddenly dawned on me how many Pubmen are local to this area. Paul Bailey most notably, 'the nicest guy you could meet' says Jon, as we planned a vague future trip where he drives me round more insane Kentish places like Cowden Pound, Dunk's Green and Chiddingstone Hoath, god knows how they pronounce them after the Leigh & Tonbridge fiascos. What's more, a chap on my Twitter called Robbie has seen me walking down the street. And earlier at Godstone station, an unknown person recognised me and went to Garibaldi at Redhill because of the nice things I said about it. Tonbridge must be Kent's answer to Stockport in this sense. Sorry Colin, but you may just become expendable if I become big in Kent!
|Jon wondered if they were talking about the rather interesting Imperial Stout|
|Jon gets his debut tick done. Nice watch.|
|Classic cameo from bush lady who might be the one who served us |