The Oldest Pub In Kent

By the Westbere Lakes on the side of the A28 there is a little sign.  A simple sign near a small turning that you can easily miss.  It points down a country lane and quietly announces '14th Century Inn".

You turn down this tiny little country lane, leaving the hustle and bustle of the main road behind you, and enter Westbere village.  A picture perfect, chocolate box village huddled near the lakes filled with beautiful country cottages and white picket fences covered in creeping wild rose and honeysuckle.  In the heart of the village lies the Old Yew Tree Inn.

Built in 1348 (it's 666 years old, making it about 20 years older than The Parrot and officially the oldest pub in Kent), this charming, sprawling pub has serviced the needs of the upper echelons of English society during its lifetime.  Queen Anne, the Archbishop of Canterbury and even Dick Turpin (more notorious than gentry it has to be said of the latter) are all reputed to have stayed here over the ages.  On this particular Friday afternoon the visitors were not quite so illustrious.  Steve, my parents and I came for some lunch following an appointment in town on a much welcomed day off work for us.

Inside the bar we stood and chatted with Wayne, the chef and a friend of Steve's from darts whilst waiting for our draft ales and Bloody Mary's to be poured.   I like my Bloody Mary's really spicy and with a decent salt kick so was pleased to be left with the bottles to adjust the seasoning to my taste.

The interior of the Yew Tree is exactly what you would expect from an ancient pub; thick whitewashed walls keeping out the heat of the day, crooked, pockmarked beams and a large inglenook fireplace that turns the interior of the pub into a cosy sanctuary against the chill of the winter and a barrier against the ghosts who are reputed to haunt the building.  If you are visiting Kent from abroad, looking for a 'traditional English pub', you can't get much more traditional than this place! 

Today was anything but a cold winter's day, and with the blazing sunshine calling to us from the gardens, we gathered up our drinks and found a picnic bench to relax on whilst we decided what to order for lunch.  It was a Friday lunchtime, and the place was pretty quiet as most people were obviously at work, but there were a few other couples and families scattered around, taking advantage of the glorious weather we have been experiencing in the Costa Del Kent recently.

My father spent a goodly amount of time admiring the workmanship and detailing in the period features, such as the carvings on the arched doorway leading from the gardens to the bar.  This is one of the charming features of the pub; wherever you look there is something to admire and catch your eye. 

The menu was extremely attractive, with a variety of fresh produce from local sources.  The 5 starters and 5 mains changes on a daily basis; years ago the rumour of the Yew Tree sandwiches was what had originally bought Steve and I to the pub for lunch, and the sandwiches were fabulous then.  The Inn has changed hands a couple of times since then and the food is even better now under the new ownership.  At the sight of pigeon breast salad on the menu, 3 of the 4 members of our party were sold instantly (with the addition of a healthy portion of chips).  Steve went for the sausage sandwich, in memory of the ones we had enjoyed all those years ago.  It was supposed to be a light lunch as Steve and I were going out for an all-you-can-eat-Chinese that night with friends, but portion sizes were extremely generous and we probably ate more than we should have done.

The pub is incredibly peaceful and we were perfectly happy to spend a good couple of hours sitting, drinking and chatting as thousands of people have done before us over countless lifetimes.  It is a little daunting to sit and think about the stories that the walls could tell about the people who have passed through the stable doors, their hopes and dreams, the intrigues and scandals.  How many of their dreams went up in ashes like the wood in the inglenook fireplace and how many came to fruition?

The Yew Tree Inn is a little off the beaten track, but such a beautiful old place that it would be a travesty not to visit it at least once.  While you are there, why don't you ask if Wayne is in today and tell him I sent you? 

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O' Christmas Tree, O' Christmas Tree

A friend and I were comparing notes yesterday about our Christmas trees.  Hers is silver, lilac and crystal, mine is gold, bronze and amber.  While our styles are different we do have something in common.

We are both completely and utterly overly protective of our trees.  She has two in her house - one for the kids to put up and one for her that she can spend hours on, working out the exact best location for each gorgeous bauble and turn the tree into a miniature work of art.  I'm similar.  I will spend weeks rearranging baubles that I am not happy with, right down to the day before it comes down.  

Putting up the Christmas tree is such an annual ritual for me.  Some of my earliest memories involve my mum putting up the Christmas tree at home, ironing the red bows and stringing all the lights and golden chains.  She too was incredibly protective of the tree and all the fixed decorations had to be attached by her before my sister and I were allowed to attack it with the wooden decorations anointed with tiny red bows and baby sprigs of holly, fighting over who got to attach the sparkling white stars, breaking our favourite decorations in a tug of war and, in her mind anyway, probably ruining the entire aesthetic.  If she had thought about it, 2 trees would probably have been the ideal solution.

As we decorated the tree my dad would bring us toasted ham sandwiches half way through and I would also be allowed my one glass of alcohol a year, a really small glass of sweet sherry that I would make last about 3 hours, just sipping at it.  It tasted like sweet sugar syrup and to this day I cannot drink sherry without being transported back to being about 8 and decorating the Christmas tree with my parents and sister.

The whole house would smell of orange, cinnamon and spices and there would be real holly and ivy dripping off the mantlepieces that mum retrieved from the garden with a pair of secateurs, held together with fat church candles and oranges studded with cloves.  Fires would be lit and the only light would be from the fireplace, the tree lights and the dimmed lamps throughout the living room.

These days I have my own house and my own tree and my own way of decorating it but some things that my mother taught me have lingered.

Steve and I used to have a real tree every year (which are significantly easier to decorate than the fake ones) but fake trees have come a long way since the one-colour-one-length-stubby-looking-branches you used to get and a couple of years ago we invested in a fake one.  I'm pleased that ours still looks fairly realistic!

I love a traditional tree with Dickensian feel, full of bronze and gold and shimmering lights.  I go out every year to buy one new decoration and every time I do I consider completely changing up the colour scheme but I still always come back to the traditional tree.

Lights go on first.   Single string, no flicker, white bulbs only please.  This is Steve's job as I just get into a tangled mess with the lights and it gives me time to sort out the decorations and check for any breakages.

Once the light are up I get to work with the items that need draping around the tree.   My mother never once had tinsel on her trees and to this day I cannot abide it.  I hate the smell of it and the feel of it makes my skin crawl.  Instead I decorate the tree with thick wired ribbon and strings of shimmering glass beads that catch the lights and reflect them back around the room.

Next go the items that attach to the branches - real bundles of cinnamon wrapped in parchment paper, gold painted bundles of grapes, poinsettia flowers and pine cones.  If I have time I also slice oranges thinly, bake them in the oven for about 2 hours on a really low heat to dry them out and then string and hang them as well.  I believe that the more senses you trigger with a tree the better it is and these all help the tree to smell fantastic.

At this stage the tree is suddenly looking significantly more Christmassy!

Then it is time for the baubles.  If I had a real tree I would first of all use 'filler baubles', basic round globes placed far back along branches towards the centre of the tree (some branches would have two or even three baubles on them) to add depth and interest.  My fake tree is too dense in the centre for this though.  My sister and I used to love lying under the tree at my parents house after we had finished it as this technique ensured interest all the way through and up, and lying on the floor, gazing up through the branches meant watching a light show of Christmas sparkle.

I also cheat outrageously when decorating the tree.  I never bother with the back - there is absolutely no point in our house as it is against a wall and it is just a waste of decoration as far as I am concerned!

Understated and elegant sparkle on a tree is so important to me.  I start with amber droplets, placed to allow the lights on the tree to make them glow from within.

Then the large items that require space - homemade clusters of baubles (made from kits of small baubles that had no real other function so Steve got creative with them and some wrapping ribbon),  draped tiered baubles and swinging angels.  Basically the items that take up more room than anything else so you are limited with where to put them!

I then always place my really heavy items, the ones that drag the branches down and end up putting the decoration into a random space.  This involved rearranging each one two or three times as the branch droops too far and the decoration looks in danger of smashing on the floor!

Then the final fillers, the bronzes and the golds which all add more sparkle.  One of the rules I try and abide by is no more than 5 of the same decoration on the tree.

Angels of all shapes and sizes are scattered throughout, all various degrees of realisticness (I like this word).  Well, as realistic as an angel can be.

And of course, it wouldn't be one of my trees without some bird decorations on there somewhere!

And finally.  The angel.  Our little, fluffy, ridiculously small angel.  There is a story here.  I first bought all my Christmas decorations in the January sales years ago after Christmas was over ready for the next year.  Steve and I were broke and I knew that there was no way on earth I could afford to buy decorations in the run up to Christmas.  Over the years we have gradually replaced some of those original early decorations but the angel has stayed.  She isn't even supposed to be stuck on the top of the tree, she originally had a hanging bit out of the top of her head and was obviously supposed to be a hanging decoration.  However when I first got her she was all I could afford.  I think she was about £5 (in the sale), compared to the £30 angels designed for the top of the tree.

Steve and I discuss replacing her every single year with something a little less ridiculous in terms of size but we always agree that she reminds us of where we have come from, of how life used to be when we were first starting out and we had to scrimp and save for every little thing.  It reminds us that Christmas isn't about the money or even the food or the gifts.  It's about spending time with your loved ones.

This little, unassuming angel at the top of our tree year on year is symbolic of everything that Christmas is for us.