Inn the Village


Another jaunt into the English countryside with one’s old Scottish chum Dalyrample. One visited The Village Gate just outside the attractive town of Wendover in Buckinghamshire. A short carriage ride from the bustle of Londinium.  The greenery of the English countryside is a welcome respite from the incessant rain pounding the streets of olde Englande.

This was a return to an hostelry of a previous disappointment. This part of town is as attractive as the leftovers on a Friday night at McSpigget’s Tavern. The Inn has gone through many changes in recent years. Previous attempts to resurrect this Inn fell short due to poor and indifferent tavern keepers. New management has transformed the Inn into a very pleasing, cosy, creamy, modern hostelry. Amongst the eating areas a room, offset from the main bar is humorously dubbed “The prison” due to the bars on the “window”. See one’s daguerreotype below.

Well kept ale (Timothy Taylor’s Landlord) and an attractive menu. Your Doctor had a rather large club sandwich which would have sated the greatest hunger yet it had no refinement. Crusts left on and the lightly toasted bread had gone limp as old celery on a summer’s day. Dalyrample seemed happy with his choice of mackerel goujons but Durdle, who was with us commented on his overcooked beef in his open sandwich which might well have fixed the odd hole in a pair of Church’s best quality brogues. (Not that one would consider such a heathen act as to repair Church’s shoes in such a manner! Harrumph!

Fortescue, his normal self, continued to eat merrily. One cannot say that the fare was top class but it was well-presented and the serving maids were friendly. However, dear friends this is not to be classed as privė and so… welcome tout le monde.

225 Aylesbury Road
HP22 6BA

Tel: 01296 623884

Categories: A tout le monde, Outside London, Stable (££)

1 reply

  1. I was flattered and thrilled to be invited to lunch by the good Doctor. However it was laced with a degree of trepidation since I know that he has no pleasure which is greater than the gratification of his palate and his Inn of choice has had a rather chequered history. I am a little worried also by the Doctor’s comment that this part of the town is like the ‘leftovers on a Friday night at McSpiigget’s tavern’, since this is the part of town in which I reside, but I am willing to overlook this injustice ( and also the fact that he mis-spelt my name). The food and ambience was much better than I had expected and my goujons, although probably a little heavy on the batter and a little light on the mackerel, were acceptable. The Doctor was in good form and regaled us with amusing tales of his exploits in the City – alas, a place I get to all too infrequently. I look forward to his next visit to the country.


    As an additional comment, the good Doctor has reminded me of an excellent quote from Boswell which admirably fits his philosophy. “Some people have a foolish way of not minding, or pretending not to mind, what they eat. For my art, I mind my belly studiously and very carefully; for I look upon it, that he who does not mind his belly, will hardly mind anything else.

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