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Surrey Hills Brewery, Dorking
It’s a bit of a puzzle to find, tucked in behind the Denbies winery on the outskirts of Dorking, Surrey…but worth it to track down the Surrey Hills Brewery taproom for a fresh taste of what they have in the works. I’d had several of their more broadly distributed beers, either at Cobbetts or other…
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The RAF Bar
The legend of the bar preceded our arrival in Cambridge. With the renowned collaboration between the U.S. and British air forces during World War II top of mind as we entered the week commemorating the 75th anniversary of the Normandy Invasion—D-Day—we followed our fellow pilots to the bar where this friendship of Allies was literally…
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Cobbetts Bottle Shop
Every trip back to Dorking has heralded happier times, from frost-covered lanes in winter to the daffodils early in the spring blooming in drifts in the park…to long summer days that won’t end (of course, not until summer itself does, abruptly, after its month-long stay). The high street now forms the picture in my mind…
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Holy Night In Dorking
For a slow-motion car crash of reasons, I ended up solo on a Christmas Eve in the market town of Surrey called Dorking. Like many English place names, this one grows on you, and has certainly since grown on me after a night that could have been one of my loneliest—but, because of the kindness…
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London Pride
When I ordered the London Pride, I wasn’t trying to be anything. I just wanted a new beer in the midst of London on a cold afternoon, where the sun set too fast for my 40-degree-latitude self, and it was almost Christmas Eve. And, like a good beer, it kept my dreams alive. My favorite…
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My First Punk
We wheeled up the high street from the car park, and into the little lodge in a nondescript town north of London—not quite Cambridge but nearly there. We stashed our bags upstairs after the proprietor/barman showed us the secret door to the lodgings. The pub on the street felt bright and airy—a cheerful place to…
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Pubs: My First Real Pint
Pubs in England showed one face to me at first contact, like the “oldest pub in Oxford” where I went back in 2009–that had to be authentic, right? With its low ceilings and timbers so shellacked over the years by smoke and skin and paint to the point they looked plastic. We had ducked our…