A week’s holiday outside term time seemed like an ideal way to capitalise on my retirement from academia and our kids both being adults. What we didn’t factor in, after a long and dry summer, was that once you’re out of term time you’re liable to be getting into autumn.
And so it was that we saw Swanage in the rain for most of the week we were there. Or rather, didn’t see Swanage very much at all, after a shopping trip on the first day led to the realisation that my cagoule was more ‘shower-proof’ than actually, you know, waterproof. A couple of sunny days at the end of the week were both welcome and frustrating – when you make your second sight-seeing trip on the last day of the holiday, you can’t help feeling like the rest of the week’s been wasted. Still, we completed most of the 1000-piece jigsaw we brought, and fitted in a game of Monopoly – which I won, for I think the first time ever – so it could have been worse.
But what about the beer, I hear you yawn. What indeed? Swanage isn’t a big place, but it’s big enough to have a decent selection of pubs – seven of them within a half-mile walk, plus another couple further out of the centre (which I didn’t get to – so I couldn’t verify that the amenities of the Royal Oak include a “miniature Stonehenge”, sadly). I checked the handpump situation in all of them, and concluded that Swanage has something of an identity problem, beer-wise. We’d settled on Dorset in preference to Cornwall so as to make the drive more manageable, and I’m sure we weren’t the first or last people to make that calculation; still, it was a bit surprising to see so much Cornish beer on sale. It’s not just that there was Doom Bar everywhere – there is Doom Bar everywhere, after all. In Swanage, you could get St Austell Proper Job as well, or Tribute, or even Sharp’s Sea Fury.
I passed on all of those, and skipped a few pubs where they were all that was on offer. In the Black Swan – a food-led pub with a really good menu, for what it’s worth – I had a pint of Dorset Brewing Company Dorset Knob, a darkish, full-bodied bitter that tasted stronger than its 3.9%. (Not really local, but Dorchester’s a lot closer than St Austell.) I was rather more impressed by the Isle of Purbeck Fossil Fuel at the White Swan; this was another dark bitter but stronger and with a lot more depth and complexity. (Nice pub, too; very ‘pubby’, giving the air of pitching mainly to locals – which, speaking as a tourist but not one who was always in the market for a sit-down meal, I rather appreciated.)
As those familiar with Dorset geography will realise, the Isle of Purbeck brewery actually is local to Swanage; so too is Hattie Brown, whose Moonlite I had with a meal at the Ship. The meal was fine, but the beer was excellent – a light, pale yellow, loose-headed hopmonster that reminded me of nothing so much as Hophead. A general store on the front was selling a range of Hattie Brown‘s beers, which I stocked up on to bring home; tasting notes to follow!
The only other pub I went into was the Red Lion, which I’d walked past several times before finally venturing in; they appeared to have Proper Job and Landlord on hand pump, but they also appeared to have menus permanently propped up against the said handpumps, giving the strong impression that they weren’t in use. As, it turned out, they weren’t: when I ordered a pint of Landlord, the bartender disappeared into the back room and came back with a full pint glass. There were three cask beers, it turned out – Proper Job, Landlord and Siren Lumina, of all things – and seemingly they were all on stillage. Unless there was a back bar that I didn’t notice, but that doesn’t seem likely: I looked quite hard for somewhere to sit and don’t think I would have overlooked it. The Red Lion was evidently trying to split the difference between the two main customer sectors in the town, as most of the space that wasn’t given over to tables for dining was taken up with a pool table. But I found a seat and got myself comfortable, and would probably have stayed there for some time with my pint of Landlord (which was in good nick), if it hadn’t been for the arrival of a second bartender. She was the chatty type, and marked her entrance by doing the rounds of the bar area, saying hallo to all her friends and telling the entertaining story of how that morning she’d woken up really really hot and sweaty, I mean really hot, then I went out in the garden and I was just really cold, shivering and everything, I think I must have a really high temperature, worst I’ve ever had, I think, but apart from that I’m absolutely fine, no, I’m not going to take the day off, I feel fine… I sunk my Landlord before she had the chance to breathe in my direction.
And that was it for the beers of Swanage, although not quite it for Dorset. On our penultimate day the sun shone and we took the steam train to Corfe Castle – a ridiculous way to travel, which I recommend unreservedly. The castle was quite something, too, although I was a bit disappointed at how Royalist the National Trust signage was; I guess the Parliamentarians did wreck the place, to be fair. Corfe Castle (the town) gave a distinct impression of long memories and old grudges; there’s a prominent plaque in the main square that was put up in 1978, commemorating the assassination of “Edward, King and Martyr” by his mother Queen Elfrida (or Ælfthryth), at Corfe Castle in 978. Justice for Eadweard! (I do feel a bit sorry for the kid – he was only 16.)
In among all the history, we paid a visit to the Bankes Arms, where we found the service disconcertingly, well, servile – an impression made all the more unsettling when I chanced to look straight at the guy who’d just been giving us the Sir and Madam treatment: a colder and more hostile stare you never saw. So I wouldn’t entirely recommend the pub on that basis. More importantly, they serve beer from Palmer’s of Bridport, a little way down the coast. I had a pint of the Pale Ale – a great example of an old-school English PA (which is to say, neither hoppy nor indeed pale) – and one of the strong bitter, 200, which was excellent.
So that’s Swanage: not really a beer destination. (Or a cider destination; I noticed that the White Swan was advertising a ‘cider festival’, but on closer inspection this amounted to six bag-in-box ciders, four Lilley’s and two Thatcher’s.) There is some nice beer to be found, though, as the forthcoming Hattie Brown bottle review will hopefully demonstrate.
The Hattie Brown bottled beers were… fine. Really, they were fine; there wasn’t anything wrong with any of them, although the fierce bittering of the session pale, Moonlite (see above) did come close to making me wince. There were some more, less aggressive, pales – Kirrin Island, Mustang Sally and Herkules (at all of 5%); there was a full-bodied, caramel-heavy stout (Crow Black); and there was a strong traditional bitter (6%) called Dog on the Roof (“Named after our dog – full of character, irresistible and often to be found on the roof”). They were good, I’d get them again; nice label art, too. They just didn’t quite rise to the level of deserving their own post.