I love pubs. Always have, ever since, bunking off school on my green Raleigh almost 60 years ago, I sped down to Seaside in Eastbourne to the Ocean Wave for a lager-and-lime or two. There is uncomplicated companionship in pubs. They offer an escape from education, work, life. Everyone there is just a customer. All are equal.
I learned to like pubs and beer despite growing to adulthood in the era of Watney’s Red Barrel, Double Diamond and other such kegged abominations.
Luckily my university years were well supplied with what came to be known as Real Ale options, so by the time I gravitated back to East Sussex in the early ’70s I was a more discerning pub-goer, though it was back in Eastbourne in the now demolished Gildredge Arms that I met the love of my life, for which I shall always be grateful, despite the awfulness of the establishment at the time.
From my earliest school days in Eastbourne I had developed a great affection for the South Downs. Imagine how this was cemented after my return in my 20s by the discovery not only of better town pubs like The Lamb in Old Town and The Pilot in Meads but also of that “string of pearls” which stretched along the A27 from Polegate to Lewes – the villages along the base of the escarpment, each with its own pub and, at the end of the road, the cathedral of the Downs in Lewes: Harvey’s Brewery.
There was the Sussex Ox in Milton Street, the Giant’s Rest in Wilmington, The Cricketers in Berwick (just one room wide in those days, with no food and pints brought from the back room), the Rose Cottage, Alciston, the Trevor Arms in Glynde, the Ram Inn in Firle and others I now forget or never managed to reach. And Harvey’s ales in most! Sadly several of these are no more.
Most of my married and working life was spent away from Sussex and largely publess, but in 2009 my wife [same one] and I returned to East Sussex of happy memory, still quintessential England with rural villages centred on church and pub. Our new home village had two pubs – one belonging to Harvey’s, the other with its own micro-brewery, 1648, a “local” at last.
When more energetic than now, I could comfortably visit any one of six rural pubs on foot for a lunchtime pint.
Changing times
The first great change for pubs during my lifetime was the introduction of the breathalyser, which reduced the “carriage trade”. This was followed by the development of food service, driven by the need to diversify the offering and increase revenue. Pub food is now almost universal, making East Sussex pubs great destinations for pleasant outings, often in the most picturesque of places. The views at the Sussex Ox, the Tiger in East Dean and even the touristy Beachy Head take some beating.
The Six Bells in nearby Chiddingly even presents itself on social media as the Eighth Wonder of the World! Some, like The Gun (Gun Hill) and the Ram Inn (Firle), have really changed into restaurants. Perhaps unsurprisingly, as the home of Harvey’s, Lewes is well served still with really good pubs like the Brewers Arms, the Gardener’s Arms and The Swan.
Since 2020, as Covid and Brexit have bitten, both staffing and footfall have presented challenges especially in the more rural locations, and in 2022–23 energy costs are affecting the viability of some.
But life for publicans had already become hard over the intervening years. Across the country, hundreds of pubs have closed as changes in social habits, economic factors and demographic changes have rendered them unsustainable. Data suggests that worse is to come for the sector. One of the two in my own village has gone and another half-dozen in surrounding villages.
Use them or lose them
What this does to the communities I cannot say, but to me a pub is the heart of a village, much more than a mere watering hole. For my village friends The King’s Head offers our very own Stammtisch (a regulars’ table) , facilitating regular, congenial oldie gatherings which would probably not be sustained were it not there.
More closures seem probable, despite the welcome proliferation of local craft ales on the supply side. Some optimism may be found in the growing trend of community ownership of rural shops and pubs like Brighton’s The Bevy, supported by expertise and grants from such as the Plunkett Foundation, but even this model demands serious commitment, both financial and human, not easily resourced in small communities.
We must use them or we’ll lose them, which would be tragic.
So charge your glasses and raise a toast to the pubs of East Sussex. Mine’s a pint of Winter Solstice. Cheers!
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