The Queen's Head

Nigel Farage's Pub

Before our visit to Charles Darwin’s Down House, we had to have lunch. In Downe itself, on the border of Kent and Greater London, there are two pubs. Previously, we had been to The George and Dragon because I thought it was the favourite pub of Reform leader Nigel Farage. However, that turned out to be incorrect. This time we headed to The Queen’s Head, situated just across the street.

It is a charming pub that makes a clear distinction between drinkers, among whom we can count Farage, and diners, on whom most pubs nowadays depend for revenue. We were there at half past twelve in the afternoon, well in time for the traditional roast. I asked the bartender where Farage usually sat, but he told me that he had never seen Farage in the pub, even though he had been working there since November of last year.

Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The Queen’s Head is a likeable pub, especially when it comes to the drinking crowd. There are lovely armchairs where you can really lounge. The stained glass is particularly good. As soon as you enter, the doors welcome you to the Darwin Bar, where Charles Darwin also drank a pint.

The pub itself is named after Queen Elizabeth, the first one, that is. Sometime in the seventeenth century she came to Downe for the christening of one Margaret Manning. The pub existed even back then. The current building has served as a pub since 1565, making it one of the oldest pubs in London.

I saw a video on the internet where Nigel Farage visits the pub after it had been closed for 103 days—Farage counted it himself—due to the curfew following the 2020 COVID crisis. Farage asks the landlord what’s on tap. One of the options is a glass of Harvey’s from our own Sussex. However, Farage chooses a different beer.

Typical Farage, I thought, making the wrong choice. However, after studying the pub’s website, I discovered that Harvey’s Best – there’s nothing better – is still being served. Regrettably, I had ordered an inferior Best from another brewer, I’ve already forgotten which one.

So Farage is forgiven. However, my search for Nigel’s favourite pub—surely he hasn’t stopped drinking—must end. My wife Julie has had enough. (Although, I think she had hoped to meet him for real.) “Next time we’ll visit a regular pub, okay,” she said threateningly as we left. So that is what we will do.