With Mark Davison

It was a quiet clement November day as I motored out into the Surrey countryside in search of an afternoon cuppa.

Just outside Dorking, on the main road to Guildford, I spotted a most welcome sign outside the Prince of Wales public house in pretty Westcott.

On a blackboard was chalked up a notice that tea and coffee as well as homemade cakes were now on offer throughout the day.

I pulled up and drove down a slope into the car park behind.

Beyond the roofs of cottages and old houses, a panoramic view of Ranmore Common can be enjoyed.

A tall young man at the bar courteously enquired how he could help and I said I would like to avail myself of the afternoon tea on offer.

I was led to a small table on which was placed a wonderful-looking sponge and some individual chocolate cakes.

"Would you like Victoria sponge or chocolate muffins?" asked the young man with polite enthusiasm.

"Both," I said, stifling a chuckle.

He took me seriously and said he would bring a pot of tea to my place.

I sunk into a comfy dark pink sofa in the lounge bar in front of which was a glass-topped coffee table.

I had read a week or two ago in the local newspaper, the Dorking Advertiser, that the pub had recently been taken over by new landlord Phil Connisbee and his family.

Mr Connisbee had previously run The Mint at Banstead and before that the Wotton Hatch, near Westcott. He had wanted to return to the area he loved, and, while walking his dog nearby, spotted the Prince of Wales lying vacant.

Now the family has tastefully refurbished the public house and decided to offer tea and cakes.

On a nearby table, a couple of men were enjoying an afternoon pint and chatting quietly.

One said to the other: "I went in and asked for a new wheel for the car and he said, 'Which one do you want?' and I told him just a normal one. He said, 'There's 20 different types now. Which one do you want."

The spotlessly clean floorboards in the lounge had an occasional rug put down to give a softer feel to the furnishings. Above the fireplace, stood a a vase of red, yellow and white crysanthemums.

On the sound system, Elton John's Philadelphia Freedom was being played, followed by his 1970s' hit with Kiki Dee – Don't Go Breaking My Heart.

There was a good deal of chatter at the bar after a few young workmen came in after a long day at work.

"Is it cold outside?" an older man was asked by the barman.

"Yes, it's getting a bit chilly."

I overheard the barman saying that the pub was having to close for four days while new gas fittings were put in the kitchen and the place would not open again until Friday (November 28).

As the afternoon wore on, the wall lamps each side of the mirror above the fireplace appeared to grow brighter as the daylight dimmed.

Traffic flowed past outside: buses to Guildford, car transporters, white vans and people carriers conveying school children.

Some pupils from the village school filed past the pub, nattering and teasing each other.

A conifer twitched in the light breeze and further away in the distant skies, flocks of seagulls flew in formations.

I had read recently that the pub had been at the centre of village life for 150 years and for much of that time had been kept by the Tucker family who ended up running the village garage.

I glanced at the menu on the table and learned that the premises offered a good selection of traditional English fare.

"Whale of a fish" (£8.50); gammon, steak and eggs (£7.75); breast of chicken with a mushroom and marsala sauce (£7.95); beef, mushroom and ale pie (£7.50); and the vegetarian option – aubergine and mushroom bake (£6.95).

I picked up a a national newspaper available for patrons' perusal and the headline gave some good news: "Food and petrol prices fall."

I savoured every mouthful of the Victoria sponge and sat back to sip another cup of tea poured from the white ceramic cup.

I went to the bar to pay the bill, deciding to leave before the rush-hour traffic led to long queues on the Westcott Road near Sondes Place Farm.

"That's £5, please," said the barman.

I thought that was worth every penny and vowed to return one day – perhaps when taking a rural ramble in the hills nearby.