“the first thing he espied was the wine lodge door stood open invitingly to quench his thirst, he toddled inside and called out for a wine which grew to eight or nine, till his nose began to shine.” John H. Glover-Kind I Do Like to Be Beside the Seaside.

This was our last full day in Blighty. I had intentionally left it open to allow for spontaneity. In the end we decided a trip to Brighton was a good use of our time.  For an island nation it is very easy to traverse Britain and seldom see the sea. Quite different to here where every city bar Palmy and Hamilton is built on the coast.

We took the tube to London Victoria , loaded up on train snacks at the M&S, hunted out coffees and then retired to the Wetherspoons where I had a pint of Oakham JHB and mum had an orange juice.
Then it was onto the train and out through the Sussex countryside, through Gatwick Airport and a sandwich and prawn cocktail later we were pulling into Brighton Station.

First stop was the Evening Star pub which is right round the corner from the station.  I was here with Stu and Jessica Mason in 2019 after visiting Burning Sky. The Evening Star was the birthplace of the Dark Star Brewery (although Pitfield Brewery in London also has a claim) and in a way the birthplace of Burning Sky. Dark Star Hophead is no longer on the bar, evidence of the changing relationships now that brand has no brewery and is under Sapporo ownership I suspect. I had a couple of Burning Sky beers. The bar was early afternoon quiet. Just as we were getting ready to move on a group of older chaps started to flow in prompting a little banter along the lines of “nothing personal we just need to move on now, it’s not you it’s us”

We wandered down the high street and then along the seafront towards The Palace Pier. We did what one is meant to do on the pier and wandered out, sat and gazed back at the land, and then wandered back. A chap on a jet ski endlessly circled noisily below us. I think perhaps jet skis are the weed blowers of the ocean, pointless, noisy and beloved by certain sorts of bloke.

I had some pub recommendations from Henry, so we caught an uber down the seafront to The Hole in the Wall. Tucked in a back ally from the front this small pub had a lovely vibe, several couples and a group of men all chatting. Despite being a fairly craft beer heavy pub the interior felt little changed from the 1970s if not the 1870s when it was built. The lack of tap badges on the handpulls helped maintain the old school aesthetic. The cask offerings were all a little sexy new world hopped for me, so I opted for a pint of Anspach and Hobday London Black which I had been wanting to try.  Then I followed it up with a Burning Sky Vatted Porter, both were very good.

Then it was up to The Prince Albert, which was cosy with a roaring open fire, the smell of woodsmoke wafting through the rooms. The Albert maintained a good balance between cosiness and music venue, not an easy line to walk. More Burning Sky beers were drunk here. Sadly, they listed Burning Sky Mild, but apparently I had missed it.  

One of the reasons for coming to Brighton was to give English fish and chips one last go. After much research I settled on Bardsley’s which had been frying since 1926. We ate in the dining room where a suited gent also was dining, a wee dog at his foot. The fish and chips were good, and I tried a cods roe fritter which was interesting, kind of like tinned tuna deep fried. So yes, decent fish and chips can be found in Britain, if you eat in so they cook them fresh and avoid the dreaded warmers, and if you pay $100 NZ for them (including a beer).

Then it was a train to London Bridge so we could rendezvous with Stu at The Rake to collect a case of Dark Star / Gales Prize Old Ale he had been cosseting for me in his garage for a few years. The Rake was having the second of two Waitangi Day NZ Kiwi meet up events. We caught up with Steve Wells, Todd ex NZ Beer Collective and of course Stu.

We traversed the tube back north laden with bottles of delicious vatted old ale and then to bed for our last sleep in Britain.