FOLKESTONE, Kent - Kent County Council confirmed Tuesday that Folkestone has passed what hydrologists are calling "peak refreshment," after a six-month civic audit found the seaside town now contains one licensed premises for every 11 residents, four seagulls, and one man named Trevor who insists he is only in town for the sea air. The audit, commissioned at a cost of 240,000 pounds and conducted almost entirely from a corner table, sent this reporter to every bar, pub, alehouse, taproom, cocktail dispensary and champagne outpost in the CT20 postcode. The findings are printed below in full, because the council said it would not pay for a summary.
The audit began, as all serious municipal work does, at The Bouverie Tap, where the decor is described by regulars as "interesting" and by the council surveyor as "a fire risk with charm." Auditors awarded it full marks for service and deducted two points when a man at the bar explained cask conditioning for 45 minutes without being asked. Down the road, The Radnor Arms was found to be serving food so good that three inspectors resigned on the spot to pursue careers in Sunday roast. The council has since reclassified the venue as critical infrastructure.
On Tontine Street, the audit team encountered what officials are now calling "the corridor of extreme pleasantness." The Blind Pig was cited for being a fab little bar in direct violation of the Modest Expectations Act 1974. Two doors up, Pomus Folkestone scored 4.9 for wine and a formal caution for making everyone who leaves say "we should do this more often" when they absolutely will not. The Old Buoy was praised for its chilled atmosphere, which investigators traced to a broken radiator, and Black Bull on Canterbury Road was certified as a Proper Pub by the Department for Proper Pubs, a body that exists only after the fourth pint.
Harbour operations proved more hazardous. At The Mariner, described in official documents as a classic Britisher pub on the harbour front, an auditor attempted to review the view and was not seen again until Thursday. The Ship Inn on The Stade claimed to be the best pub in Folkestone, a claim also made by The British Lion, the Royal George, and a bench outside Iceland. The council has ruled all four claims "simultaneously true," citing quantum licensing law. Meanwhile The Harbour Inn was commended for huge portions, with one inspector filing his entire report from inside a fish pie.
Out on the Harbour Arm itself, the audit descended into what the final report calls "a sequence of regrettable delights." The Thirsty Farrier holds a perfect 5.0 rating, which under maritime law means it must now be registered as a lighthouse. The Pilot Beach Bar was praised for gorgeous views and very quirky seats, three of which have since been elected to the town council. Brewing Brothers Beachside provided good tunes and fantastic staff, and The Lighthouse Champagne Bar offered vegan nibbles to an inspector who had, by that point, been awake for 31 hours and wept openly at the sight of an olive. Rocksalt rounded out the waterfront with British dining so chic that one auditor apologised to his own trousers.
The Old High Street and Rendezvous Street sector produced the audit's most alarming statistic: a 400 percent year-on-year rise in the phrase "just one more, it's basically on the way." Kipps' Alehouse was found guilty of lovely beers at reasonable prices, an offence the council described as "destabilising." The Beer Shop stocked so many ales that the audit team had to be rotated in shifts, and FOLKLORE served cocktails from one pound, a price point economists warn could collapse the pound faster than the government already has. Marleys in the Creative Quarter was cited for being great at food, beer, location and staff, prompting an official inquiry into whether it is legally allowed to be good at four things at once.
Not every venue escaped censure. The Samuel Peto, an elegant pub in stately digs, was reprimanded for making Wetherspoons prices feel like a religious experience, which the Church of England has formally protested. The Guildhall offered cheap pool and "beers ok," the most honest sentence recorded anywhere in Kent since 1987, and has been nominated for a plain-speaking award it will describe as "fine." The Pullman claimed to serve easily the best pub food in town, at which point the audit van refused to start out of loyalty.
The western territories held out longest. On Cheriton Place, The Firkin Alehouse operates a strict policy of no fuss, no bother, great drinks, and its landlord reportedly ejected a customer for attempting small talk about the weather with insufficient commitment. Next door, FARL Irish Pub was declared the most cosy and homey Irish bar in Folkestone by a five-judge panel, four of whom now live there. The Rum Clinic continues to be the only clinic in the NHS catchment with a two-drink minimum, and East Kent Arms was described simply as "nice," a rating the audit accepts because by hour 60 nobody was writing in full sentences.
In Sandgate, The Providence Inne welcomes friendly dogs, several of whom the audit team ranked above most sitting MPs for warmth and reliability, while Docker Bar offered brilliant food deals and amazing beer to inspectors who had begun referring to each other by pub names. Up on the cliffs, The Valiant Sailor earned a 100 percent recommendation from a man who then attempted to recommend it a second time to the same table. And at East Cliff Tavern, open until 11:30 at night, the audit formally concluded, was formally reopened, and formally concluded again.
Councillor Margaret Prewitt-Vole, Folkestone's newly appointed Minister for Vertical Drinking, defended the findings at a press conference held, for budgetary reasons, in a pub. "Some towns have a cathedral. Some have a university. Folkestone has 41 places where a stranger will call you mate within 90 seconds, and frankly that is a better use of Victorian architecture," she said, before ordering the press conference a round. Asked whether the town had too many pubs, Prewitt-Vole consulted her notes for a full minute and replied, "Too many for what?"
The report's only genuine criticism was reserved for Steep Street Coffee House, which serves excellent drinks surrounded by books and is therefore, in the audit's words, "technically sober, which we found unsettling." The full 900-page document is available at the town hall, though the town hall is closed, because everyone is at the pub. Further coverage of Britain's refreshment crisis continues at The London Prat, with investigative standards maintained to at least the level of Private Eye after its Christmas lunch.
SOURCE: https://prat.uk