Walking into the Shipwright’s Arms on Hollowshore was like taking a step back in time, not least because the first story I was told happened more than 20 years ago.

But if you’re going to trek out to this gem on Oare Marshes, near Faversham, you first need to get yourself one of the following: A sturdy pair of walking boots; A 4x4 vehicle (because unlike the Chelsea tractor mums, you’ll put your monster truck to good use getting here).

Having mentioned the perils of the water-filled potholes in the lane, the woman hugging the pub’s upright radiator informed me: “That’s nothing, you should have seen it in 2003, hundreds of our rabbits drowned in a day and we were closed for nine weeks”.

To be fair, I’d already seen the sign reading ‘We don’t have wi-fi, we have conversation’ and each member of bar staff, whenever they weren’t serving, took turns at huddling round the radiator and waxing lyrical.

I’d already seen a Goachers Brewery van delivering when I tried to visit previously (sadly it was closed) so spotting the same brewery’s beer towels on the bar I took seconds to select a pint of 3.8% Shipwrecked. Mind you, with five other cask ales available I was spoilt for choice.

Despite my protestations, the Apprentice chose a Curious Brew and Mrs SD stuck to type with a large Sauvignon Blanc.

Derek had just put another log on the fire at the front of the pub (he has a strict rule – one log, per customer, per drink) so we huddled around that table. There were also two wing chairs but these had already been nabbed by a couple of hairy readers – he was all mod con with a Kindle, while she played it old school, no sign of conversation here.

The wood store next to us was interesting as it contained a whole series of specially ‘logged’ messages from previous visitors who must have been equipped with felt pens.

Everything at the Shipwrights is completely rough and ready and if you don’t appreciate your pub very much slanted to the shabby, rather than the chic, this is not one for you.

The wind was whistling through the single-paned window, but pubs built in 1700 don’t come double-glazed glazed and I think it’s all part of the charm, particularly as you can hear the ropes jangling on the yacht masts outside.

I considered it equally charming when we ordered a portion of chips and the barmaid ran outside to the freezer for the bag, returning shaking with the cold to announce she was frostier than the chips and had passed a brass monkey on the way.

Mind you, if you really want to experience artic-style cold then try braving the outside lavvy – even metal monkeys avoid this one.

On the subject of food, I’d already spotted the pub’s introduction to its menu so, to be fair, I knew what to expect. It mainly tells you what it isn’t and doesn’t do, before giving you a list of what you can have: “We do NOT have a restaurant, it’s a ‘real ale’ pub serving ‘pub grub’ at certain times. “No reservations, we do NOT serve Sunday roasts and sorry we do NOT serve hot drinks.”

Personally, I’m delighted they made it crystal clear, I was equally delighted by the pub grub we were served and was ecstatic I wasn’t going to have to queue up behind some dipstick at the bar ordering a fluffy, super-eco, energised coffee nonsense.

I had a tuna mayo sandwich, which came with cheese and onion crisps, the Apprentice had soup (including well-done croutons) and a roll and Mrs SD loved her fish finger sandwich, again with C&O crisps. The bread was fresh and chunky, the chips hot and crispy and the soup was darned tasty – job done.

Of course, there is no darts, no pool, no screens, no music – this is a pub for drinking and talking, and we did. However, I did notice they do host live music and I’d certainly return for that.

We’d arrived shortly after opening time and were joined by a fair few people as Sunday lunchtime progressed, most had walked but some had risked the suspension on their family saloon.

All love this place and although I’d had requests from several locals to visit, I suspect there will be others who won’t thank me for sharing details of their favourite hideaway haunt and encouraging others to try it.

But, that is exactly what I must do – this is a real ‘real ale’ pub and you must experience it first hand, in all its glory and tattiness, to appreciate just how wonderful it is.

Oh, I forgot to mention the indoor multi-sex toilet with a sliding door at the end of a short, tight-squeeze corridor. Clean and fresh but as quirky as everything else, it had a sign claiming Herne Bay is the healthiest place in England and a paper plate covering a porthole-style window, one corner of which had been pulled open so someone could spy into the garden.

Get your walking boots out or check your car’s tyres and get yourself along to try this one.

SHIPWRIGHT’S ARMS, HOLLOWSHORE, FAVERSHAM ME13 7TU

Decor: Incredible, you know how some pubs have manufactured, reproduced knick-knacks, well not here – this is all authentic, gloriously aged and unashamedly tatty. It is what it is. *****

Drink: My pint of Shipwrecked (Goachers) was a delight and the choice of cask ales available was truly refreshing. Curious Brew is what it is, but he loved it and Mrs SD said it was very decent wine. *****

Food: This is self-proclaimed ‘pub grub’ doing what it says on the tin. The bread was fresh, the roll was served hot, the leek and potato soup tasted good. It was good for pub grub. ***

Price: The soup and roll cost £7, the fish finger sandwich was £6.70 and my tuna and mayo sandwich 10p less at £6.60. A portion of chips is £3. ‘Unfortunately!’ the Apprentice bought the drinks for once so I can’t tell you the prices of those. ***

Staff: As quirky as the interior of their pub, I took to them immediately. Helpful, chatty and jocular, they’re clearly proud to work at this hidden gem and welcome all-comers accordingly. *****

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