I've just spent a few days in the Cotswolds, and I'll write another post(s) about that. This is a bit out of sequence, to be honest, as we visited The Farmer's Dog on our last day on our way back home. I say "On the way", but it's not really. We stayed in Bourton-On-The-Water, which is about a twenty to thirty-minute drive to the pub, and then going home, we pretty much had to retrace our steps to the point where the wife exclaimed, "We're not going back to the cottage, are we?"
I would imagine pretty much everyone has heard of Jeremy Clarkson, former presenter of Top Gear, who now owns a Farm called Diddly Squat, a play on the claim that his farm makes nothing financially, or so he says. 🤔
After leaving the BBC and presenting The Grand Tour on Amazon Prime, Clarkson created his new offering, Clarkson's Farm. It's a loosely similar format to what he has done most of his television career. Jolly Japes with expensive things. For example, he owns an insanely large Lamborghini tractor. Totally impractical for UK farming and an endless source of antics for the camera. Part of the format of Clarkson's Farm is his constant: "I've had an idea!" exclamaitions, one of which was "I'm gonna buy a pub." After viewing several locations, one of which we passed regularly, still boarded up, he finally decided on The Farmer's Dog.
At the end of the day, it's just a pub owned by a celebrity, but seeing as we were down that way, it was an opportunity for us to say "We've been there." Google obviously directed us straight to the pub. Now I believe that originally, you could park outside under the trees; however, things must have changed because only Blue Badge holders (Disabled) can park there now, while everyone else must park in the field on the other side of the road.
OMG The Field!
It had rained heavily off and on for two days, and the so-called car park reminded me of The Somme in 1916. Everyone was wearing nice shoes or trainers by the time they'd walked to the main road out of the field, we all looked like a herd of elephants who had just enjoyed a nice roll on the watering hole banks. Huge clumps of mud, clay and soil clung to the soles of our footwear, and we all left a brown trail in our path.
We hadn't booked a table, well, you couldn't book a table. They're fully booked for the next three hundred years by the looks of it, but I still gave it a try. I approached the host/maître d' (The young lad at the podium) and asked if there was any chance of a table.
Host: "Have you booked?"
Me: "No, but I thought it was worth a try."
Host: "There's no harm in asking. Tell you what, if you can wait about an hour and a half, I'll see if I can squeeze you in."
I have to say; I was really impressed with that. He could have just told me to get lost, so top marks for trying to accommodate a cheeky punter.
The pub is really friendly, and like us, there were lots of people there with their dogs. The bar wasn't busy at all, so it was really easy to get a drink. The eating areas, however, were rammed; in fact, I would argue people were squeezed in like sardines, so much so the wife said she wouldn't fancy eating there due to the close proximity of tables to each other. 🤷♂️
The Grand Tour Tent
After thanking the guy for his offer and explaining that we couldn't wait, as we had to drive back home, we made our way out into the garden and headed to The Grand Tour tent. IT'S HUGE! I mean, it looks big on TV, but it's even bigger in real life. The wife and I were hoping to grab a burger or something, said burgers are made from the meat from Diddly Squat; however, we were to be disappointed for a second time as the burger van closes at 3 pm. We had a look at the meat in the fridges and other produce like Cow Juice (Milk) and Bee Juice (Honey), including tee shirts, hats and aprons all emblazoned with the Diddly Squat logos, but we didn't buy anything. After a short walk around, we braved the mud to return to the car.
Do you want meat?
We were starving. Apart from a couple of TimTams at lunchtime, we'd not had anything substantial since breakfast.
Wife: "If you see somewhere, pull over! Even McDonald's."
Me: "I've not seen a single McDonald's anywhere we've been down here in the Cotswolds?"
I suspect the Cotswolds are far too posh for McDonald's?
I drove along the A40 with my eyes darting around like some demented heat-seeking radar, or in this case, food-seeking. While there were pubs along the way, each time I spied one, it either looked dodgy or the traffic made it difficult to stop. Cut a long story short, we called into our local McDonald's, not far from our house.
Me: "Two Big Mac meals and a plain burger, please."
Speaker: "What type of burger?"
Me: "Umm? A plain burger."
Speaker: "What type of burger?"
Me: "Umm? A burger with nothing on it."
Speaker: "But what type of burger? Do you want chicken or meat?"
Me: "Isn't chicken meat then? If I'd wanted chicken, I would have asked for it. A plain beef burger, please."
I turned to my wife.
Me: "They're currently spitting all over our food now."
When I finally got home, one Big Mac meal, one Cheesburger and a plain burger! In the words of Joe Pesci in the film Lethal Weapon.
"They stiff you at the drive-thru!"
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