As quintessentially British as a bowler hat in the rain, the Maytime Inn sits proudly at the centre of the smallest village I’ve ever seen. It seems to be becoming a bit of a habit now that Mrs P and I are asked to go and offer our totally unwarranted opinion on the merits or lack-thereof of these little pockets of English heritage and so it was that we were called back to the Oxfordshire countryside for another testing evening, although why all these people want to hear what I think is still beyond me!
Still, never one to disappoint, I have to say that first impressions of the Maytime, were impeccable. I would not have asked for a better evening as the sun beamed down and winding our way down the absurdly small lane leading us into the village actually felt like we were driving into pub perfection – hills and fields on the right, quaint little cottages on the left and a beer garden that smelled of mint and rosemary in the afternoon heat.
Continue reading “The Maytime Inn, Asthall; Review” →