Hiding in the woods - the Villager at Vigo

Saturday lunchtime saw Mrs PBT’s and I visiting a tucked-away, but relatively modern pub, high on the North Downs above Wrotham. I shan’t go into the reasons behind our visit, apart from saying it was to meet up with a close family member, for a spot of lunch. As this particular person lives in Gravesend, and we, of course, reside in Tonbridge, somewhere roughly halfway was suggested as a suitable location to meet up.

The chosen spot was a pub called the Villager, and whilst it was nearer to Gravesend, it was a place that I’d wanted to visit for some time. In fact, ever since I read about the Villager at Vigo village, on ticking legend Pubmeister’s website, I’d been looking for an excuse to call in at this pub which is tucked away in the middle of chestnut woodland, at the top of the North Downs, close to Trosley Country Park.

Vigo village takes its name from a 15th-century public house, which was renamed in the 18th century after the Battle of Vigo Bay. The Vigo Inn is reputed to date from 1471, when it was known as the Upper Drover. It was renamed after the Battle of Vigo Bay, a naval battle fought in 1702 during the War of the Spanish Succession. According to legend, a former sailor, who had saved the life of Sir George Rooke, the Admiral of the Fleet, during the battle, was granted the pub as a reward for his services.

The Vigo's famous daddlums table c. 1987

 

 

Sadly, the Vigo Inn is now a private house, having closed in 2014, but prior to that it was a simple and unspoilt rural alehouse which, despite its isolated position, was one of my favourite country pubs. As well as a regular entry in CAMRA’s Good Beer Guide, the Vigo was home to an ancient daddlums (miniature skittles) table long after these had disappeared from other local pubs. It was also a welcoming and idiosyncratic hostelry, but despite widespread local opposition, planning permission was granted to convert the pub into residential accommodation, thereby consigning 500 years of public service, to the history books.

The former Vigo Inn, 2020

But what about the modern day village, and the pub built to serve it? The present-day Vigo village was built in the mid-20th century, on a site that had previously been an army camp. The military occupied the site between 1942 and 1946, but following the departure of the army, the area was occupied by people who, for the most part, had lost everything during the Blitz. The camp provided ready-made accommodation, in the form of Nissen Huts, plus well-made roads, and soon a small community was formed.

The presence of around 1,000 people in the area prompted the local councils to improve conditions for the inhabitants. Roads were upgraded, the huts were partitioned to provide three rooms, and toilets and bathrooms installed. In return, the local authority charged rent and the settlement became known as Vigo Village. As well as the dwelling places, a community centre, library, school, and shops were opened, and this was later followed by a pub in 1985.

Known as the Villager and constructed and run by members of the same family, the pub provided a place where local people could get together to enjoy some good food and drink Thirty years later, the pub changed hands, with two of the original owning brothers buying out the share of the others. There was also an ingress of new blood, which led to a major refurbishment of the Villager, which re-opened in its present form, in November 2019.

Eileen and I arrived shortly after one o’clock. The lady we were meeting was already in the car park, so after exchanging greetings, we headed inside. Whilst open plan in appearance, the interior is divided into a number of smaller areas, which helps create a cosy and homely atmosphere.  A wood-burning stove complements this feel. As far as the beers were concerned, the cask offerings were Musket Muzzleloader, St Austell Proper Job and Iron Pier Bitter, from Gravesend.

Whilst standing at the bar, ready to place my order, I was tapped on the shoulder, by someone who then addressed me as, "Mr Bailey." It was Peter B, a member of Maidstone & Mid-Kent CAMRA who was with a party of around six other, most of whom I know. They were on a CAMRA bus trip, and like us, had called in for a bite to eat. I of course, received the comment from Mrs PBT’s, about trust me to bump into a group I know, especially in a pub!

Returning to our pre-booked table, I ordered the homemade turkey and ham pie, which whilst not a “proper pie” – it came served in a dish, with just a pastry lid on top, was still very good. There was plenty of gravy within the dish to soak up the mash potato accompaniment, authenticated as “real mash potato” by Mrs PBT’s. Afterwards, the ladies went for a sweet, in the form of apple and blackberry crumble, but being mindful of my figure, I passed on the dessert.

Following the conclusion of our business, we parted company, but not before agreeing to meet up again once the warmer weather arrives. I realise this all sounds rather mysterious, but it’s a family matter that whilst not directly affecting Eileen and I, is still something we’d prefer keeping under wraps, for the time being.