Despite another day of travel disruption due to a deep snowfall across Surrey, I was determined to venture out once again, brave the inclement weather and enjoy a cream tea in the snowy countryside.

I heeded the advice on the radio not to go out motoring unless the journey was essential. So I headed for the railway station and waited for a train on the Surrey Hills line.

Remarkably, spot on time and regardless of the reported dislocation to the service in London caused by the adverse weather, the train arrived at my platform.

Soon, and almost silently, the warm train glided towards Deepdene and on to Gomshall. I gazed out the window at the snowy farmland and woods. Evergreens, resigning themselves to another freezing day, clung to the slopes of the downs, bowed down with the weight of snow. Here and there in the whitened fields, cattle were gathered around feeders topped up with winter hay.

The train quietly arrived at Gomshall Station and I stepped off into the deep snow on the platform. Everything seemed to be muffled by the snowfall.

I trudged towards Abinger Hammer along the main road – stepping aside at times to avoid the spray from occasional passing cars and lorries. There were very few people out and about.

Soon after passing the famous clock at Abinger Hammer I was delighted to notice that the tearooms in the village stores were open.

I stepped in and passed the time of day with the proprietor, named Annie.

I enquired if anyone else had called in on this snowy day.

She replied: "All we've had in today were a couple from Australia who have been staying in Gomshall since November. What they wanted was a hot chocolate and a toasted tea cake. I told them it may be rather cold in there but they didn't seem to mind."

Annie said she had been kept busy in recent days battling to get newspaper supplies to the village. On the day I called, she had been up at five o'clock in the morning to drive in perilous conditions to Westcott to collect newspapers from a shop in the village. They had been left there by the delivery van who had chosen not to risk using the icy Coast Hill at Westcott to get to Abinger.

"I must admit it was a bit daunting," sighed Annie, as she switched on a heater in the tearoom to make sure I wouldn't be cold.

I perused the menu and opted for a hot toasted French soft cheese and cranberry sandwich, a pot of tea, and some scones and clotted cream.

My eyes wandered to an 8ft snowman standing sentinel on the wintry wastes opposite the shop.

A traffic cone had been provided as a hat.

Annie returned to the room and contemplated a few changes she is planning for the future.

"At the end of February we want to start doing daily special lunches and there's a lady who's going to help me. We already do roasts on Sundays but I think we should make more use of the tearoom during the week."

I ran my eyes down the regular menu. I could have chosen a home-made soup of the day with crusty bread (£4) or the "Abinger lunch" comprising crusty bread, ham, cheddar, watercress, tomato and coleslaw (£6.25).

A range of sandwiches and hot jacket potatoes were also available and I was tempted by a hot bacon sandwich (£4.20).

After my toastie, which was served with an accompanying side salad, I looked forward to the cream tea. Annie, who was wearing a red roll-neck chunky jumper, brought it in. The scones were warm and they seemed to welcome the dollop of clotted cream I put on top with the strawberry jam.

I grinned to myself as I tucked into this treat, thinking of the London commuters struggling in "the Smoke" while I was hibernating in a pretty Surrey village in the snow.

I prolonged my visit by pouring endless cups of tea from the pot and staring at the wonderful paintings of local scenes adorning the walls.

In one corner was a display of homemade cakes.

No one else arrived during my afternoon visit although a steady stream of customers called at the shop enquiring about newspapers and provisions.

Eventually, I got up to leave and had a another chat with Annie. She said she is planning to call in a sweep to clean the chimney and then light a real fire in the grate to give customers a warm welcome in winter. I gave her plans my vote of approval, bade farewell and headed out into the snow, which was now turning crispy as the temperature dipped once again.

I peered up at the Abinger clock but as it was nowhere near "the top of the hour", there was no chance today of seeing the little blacksmith emerge from the mechanism and strike the bell.

After "yomping" my way through the snow, I eventually reached Gomshall station and found I was the only passenger on the platform.

The train home was due at four minutes past four. And sure enough, a 4.04pm precisely, the train came into view and I climbed aboard, having thoroughly enjoyed my outing to this charming village in the depths of winter.

Mark Davison