The Old Wine Vaults

Ah the Old Wine Vaults, one of the most… interesting pubs in Faversham. In the daytime it is almost empty, while at nights it is a very rowdy place indeed.

We arrived at the Wine Vaults around midday, sitting outside. We believed we were only the second group of clients there - but that soon changed after we realised that the other people there were either friends of the landlord or contractors on a break. After 15 minutes or so at our table we noticed the landlord had come to speak to the others about something, before all of them headed up a ladder into the loft area of the pub and stayed there for the remaining 30 minutes of our stay. This was a very peculiar sight.

The garden area of the Wine Vaults where we were seated definitely had character. The tables are covered in avian excrement, and the ground littered with old plastic bottles, rubbish and worse.

At one point we were greeted by a rat running past us upon the wall, but he didn’t stop for a chat, probably aware that anyone who frequents the Wine Vaults would probably bite its head off without a second thought.

Like any good pub, the Wine Vaults does not serve food, only liquid refreshments. Talking of liquids, one of the only positives for the pub is the price of a pint. It cost just under 2 pounds for a Strongbow - which in this day and age is almost unheard of, even in Wetherspoons.

Later that day, we returned for an evening of karaoke - a night where one can see who people really are. The good people of Faversham seemed to be having a good evening in the pub, obviously too drunk to care about the shortcomings of the pub. The music choice was acceptable but I would rate the karaoke singers a 4/10 as they were all quite out of tune. The pints were still the same price as before, and there was no cost to take up the microphone.

Overall, I’d rate this pub a 5/10, as compared to other Faverpubs it lacks character, feels slightly unwelcoming with its borderline feral clientele, and is quite dirty inside and out. But the pints being so cheap means that this is most likely not the last time we visit the Old Wine Vaults.

Location and Interior

Central and alluring, the Old Wine Vaults beckons the Faverman away from his family, and into a pit of discombobulation. But what sort of patrons does this attract, are they the Faverfinest? It’s certainly a pub for the people, the vox populi of the council estates. Having the unique ability to make the local Wetherspoons seem gentrified, the Vaults certainly has a character. Like a fish in a pond, the pub disrupts the calmy stagnant water that is Faversham, out of place, unpredictable, and violent. If one is bold enough to enter, they reach a long corridor leading to the bar, with small rooms on the sides filled with usually empty chairs. These areas have been long abandoned, for all congregate in the main room leaving it as buzzing as Selling late into the evening. The room is filled with an evil device, a great disruptor of the true pub, the television. Perhaps this is why the mental growth of its patrons have been so clearly stunted, the volume of the device silences any comprehensible thought, yet alone conversation. On its merits, the décor is of the old sense, I appreciate the exposed woodwork and felt like the homosexual in boytown. On a dichotomic sense, this is strangely the only Faverpub I have visited that has a dress code. Albeit not strict, it makes one wonder the reasons behind its implementation, probably something racial.

Drinks

At last, I may discuss the great joy of this establishment, the prices. This pub is perfect for the benefits enjoyer, or my friend and I. Cheaper than a Wetherspoons, the Vaults has mastered the practise of diluting a keg, and lovingly pass this discount unto the patron. One can enter with a ‘pony’ and leave with 10 pints of the good stuff. I must discuss the behaviour of the staff, for this has been an experience more diverse than a trip on the Picadilly Line. We are usually grunted at by a ‘woman’ fresh from the streets, desperate for us to pay and depart so she can enjoy another ciggy. On different occasions we have jolly locals, ready to engage in spirited banter with myself over certain glassware looking homosexual. However, on a special occasion, we were greeted by a kind Chap I will name Percy. Percy was proper, he wore a pinstriped waistcoat and served us with manners. I miss Percy and hope to see him soon, hopefully he hasn’t been injured by Sandwich youths. Drink dependent on the server.

Food

Now onto the profundity. The Vaults does not dabble in the culinary business in the standard way, for the product consumed here does not go in through the mouth, but through the nose. What could perhaps have been an old vault of wine, now is likely to hold vast amounts of Cocaine, something that is commonly viewed as illegal. Evidence of this has been seen in the beer garden, as well as in the patron’s souls. It should be renamed Modern Cocaine Vaults for accuracy, though this could make marketing difficult. I have been told the prices in Kent are some of the best in the country, so perhaps stop here for a reasonably priced pick-me-up before continuing your Faveradventure.

Summary

Much here to conclude on. This is a thoroughly dodgy pub which I would not revisit if it were not for the prices. Perhaps in this epoch, if we are to oppose the expansion of the soulless Wetherspoons, this is the alternative. I would advise going for the experience, as one would to the zoo, and staying for a short pint. Perhaps you can drink enough with your money that the surroundings don’t matter, or even better, you ride them by singing karaoke. This is a 4/10, a sad look into what may be the alternative of the Wetherspoons opposition, and a consequence of Western Decline. Please see depictions of the patrons.