Pubs of Rye

 Loaded with ibuprofen and smelling of tiger balm, it was time for a dose of the best pain relief, real ale.

First up, an earthy Long Man Best at The Ship Inn. An attractive food led pub, but at 4pm it was just a handful of drinkers.

Long Man Best in a Tribute glass

Moving on to The Standard for a disappointing ESB by Three Legs, either it was on the turn or I wasn’t keen on the finishing hops.

A cosy place that went from empty to full within the 40 minutes we were there. Clearly popular for the food.

A quick half of Romney Best made up for the ESB.

Further up The Mint was Old Bell, the oldest pub in Rye for a pint of Harvey’s Sussex Best, which drank very well.

 Another cosy, food led pub. Stanley enjoyed his scampi!

Just to ensure a sound night sleep through the pain, we finished back at the Waterworks. So far this year, it’s the only pub I’ve visited twice.

Unfortunately, we had to curtail our trip due to my bad back and drove 6 hours straight home.

Rye

 Simultaneously reaching in a campervan cupboard and coughing, pulled something in my back.

Unfortunately closed on Tuesday

Not exactly sliding in my DMs*, we geared up and walked (slowly) around the sites of Rye, had a late lunch in the van and then hit the pubs…

*a millennial/gen z reference.

Spare me the Waterworks

 Leaving our group to a 6 hour drive back up north, we drove the 30 minutes from Hastings to Rye.

£2.50 for 24 hour parking in the Rope Walk car park, we nestled the van in a nice corner and made the short walk to Rye Waterworks micropub, one of two GBG24 entries in Rye.

A micro with natural and added character, not just an old shop with added paraphernalia.

There’s plenty to keep your eyes busy in the Waterworks, whether it’s watching the busy comings and goings at 5pm on a Monday!

Or looking at junk treasure for sale. The table we sat at was sold, but thankfully they didn’t collect.

Or hiding under tables.

Or pulling your own. Just like at St. James’ Gate.

But most importantly, working your way through this.

Truly a must visit micro.

But we were brought back to reality when we called into Cinque Ports, a Shepherd Neame pub.

Doubling the numbers when we entered, we witnessed what Monday evening’s are really like in pubs.

Passable Spitfire and Masterbrew.

A 3-minute pint of Guinness by the next customer, which he claimed was not his record.

A woman having an argument over a video call, where she repeatedly told the recipient to “go away”, why she couldn’t hang up, I don’t know?

And a few memorial seats, which prompted a conversation which pubs we’d like ours.

But it did have a fire.

Hastings by day

 It wasn’t all pubs in the evening, we did do our usual charity shop rummage and sightseeing.

Bagging a copy of the Old Testament in Oxfam.

Admiring pubs without entering.

Admiring what probably was a pub.

A mooch around the old town. Every town should build an old town, they seem to help draw visitors.

All a bit Hazy in Hastings

 Not the beers, the memories!

A Siren Soundwave, due to no cask at the Prince Albert tipped me over the edge.

I recall liking the place as I did The Seadog after, but no idea what beer I had!!

Thankfully, the Travelodge was now closer for a booze induced sleep.

I blame keg beer.

Brewing Brothers

 Just a little further up the road from Twelve Hundred Postcards is the very hipster bohemian trendy modern Brewing Brothers (Imperial).

A brewpub with pizza oven and shiny brew gear on show, it’s where all the cool cats go on a Sunday night.

Shiny brew kit

Tasty pizza at a cost to extra seating

Six of us huddled around a small table, essentially in a corridor towards the toilet, shared two pizzas.

Allowing time to try three of their IPAs (MVP, OG and German).

Adding a playlist of T-Rex to Tame Impala, it could quite be added to my favourite pub list, but I think the beer list is probably too static and mosaic heavy.

Postcards from Hastings

 With a Saturday in Bexhill full of family catching up and cans of Ghost Ship, Abbot and surprisingly good Doombar complete, we headed to Hastings on Sunday without squeezing in the Brickmakers.

Keen for a real pint we marched for 30 minutes via the pier to Twelve Hundred Postcards, realising Hastings is bigger than first thought.

Ticking all the southern micropub boxes, converted shop; handmade feel; random mix of glassware; barman/owner scurrying into the ‘cellar’ to pour straight from the cask.

Micropub points were lost because it actually had two toilets, not the usual one.

But the Exits by Rother Valley and Speed Wobble by Twisted Wheel were both excellent.

That’s the ‘Speed Wobble’

On the road

 The great thing about working in a school is seeing young children develop into well rounded adults, full of confidence for a successful life school holidays.

This feb half term it’s the south coast of England, Bexhill for family duties and somewhere else thereafter.

Six people don’t fit in the van, so it’s 2 travelodge rooms at Harlow for us to break the journey.

The Greyhound offered a pub quiz (our first since Covid) and some unexpected cask, both Broadside and Jail Ale in fine form.

Pizza GoGo provided late night calories.

Replacing housekeeping staff with robots is how they charge £52 for a family room.

A grotty Toby provided a mediocre breakfast before the M25.

Market Cat, York

 I’m a fan of Thornbridge beers, but reasons I’m not sure of, never really visit the Market Cat.

But a visit with work colleagues at Christmas introduced me to the top floor view, so I had to go again.

And for a pint of arguably the finest cask beer available, Jaipur. Some say it’s “not as good as it used to be”, but I think it still delivers.

The Pacific Ocean Blue didn’t quite hit the West Coast IPA notes I crave.

But the late 80s/early 90s American rock soundtrack did.