07/12/19 - Gravesend Good Beer Guide Pubs

Pubs - 3
Good Beer Guide Ticks - #435 to #437

The London Countryway is complete, following a 14 Mile walk and a ferry crossing from Tilbury.

As if by design, I disembark at the first of three Good Beer Guide pubs in the town.

The Three Daws, Northdown Brewery Pale Ale Mary

An envious position, overlooking the Thames Estauary.   The seaside feel is enhanced by a history of smugglers, ghosts and secret tunnels.   I went investigating and only found three blokes singing along to Chas and Daves Margate on the outside terrace.   iPhone speakers are impressive.

Straight off the boat

Entrance is gained to the first floor door, via a roadside stair case.   Low ceilings, maritime paraphernalia and not a right angle in the entire place.   After selecting one of the five handpulls, I had to settle on external seating with the Gerchta boys.

The third man with the tunes is on his way

My transport from Essex and the walk completed in the distance

The Jolly Drayman, Skinners Betty Stogs

The seaside feel continues as I navigate the mean streets of Gravesend to find a hotel/bar next to an impressive Sikh temple.

Temple

Here I am in Kent and two of the five beers - all pumps with little Xmas hats - were from Cornwall. 

Betty Stogs was an unexpected find - so far from its home.   Easily pint of the day.

Betty is a big favourite

Despite British Legion external appearances, there was a small wooden paneled bar, providing a classic pubby experience.   Other punters fell into two camps - post wedding Sikhs dressed to the nines and horse racing enthusiasts.  Maps available for solo hikers, planning their next adventure.

The Port of London

Compass Alehouse, Tonbridge Brewery Rustic

A walk back to the Station - aiming for the 16:42 express to Kings Cross that takes a staggeringly short 20 minutes.   There's a micro pub available and as it might be a while before I am back in this part of Kent, I may as well complete the set of GBG ticks.

Shop drinking

It's at the uncomfortable end of the micro pub range.   High bench seating around the edge of a room that is so small, you have no choice to either eavesdrop or join in the conversation.   There's ancient mobile phones screwed into the wall - presumably encouraging chat and not checking the football results. 

I tried, but even with my lack of culinary knowledge, I felt the man waving a joint of silverside beef around, proclaiming that it needed 15 minutes at 230 degrees would not want my opinion on potential lack of success offered by that approach.

A laminated instruction for types of European beers offered was an interesting distraction.  Ciders and real ales on a chalkboard - with gravity fed barrels kept somewhere out the back.