The hefty, imposing barrier across the entrance of the car park gives you a good indication of what you’ll find inside the bar at the Woolpack in Iwade.

The traffic calming measures throughout the village are difficult enough to negotiate so maybe locals are happy to have their vehicles carefully corralled away.

It was only 3.20pm but there were already a large number of ‘workers’ sat on the high stools lining the bar, and they looked as if they’d been in for a while. So many in fact, I could hardly negotiate my way past the various tool belts hanging from low-slung trousers.

Having weaved my way in I selected a seat and cast my eye along the pumps.

I can’t remember the last time I supped a pint of Courage Best so decided to give the classic 4% bitter a try. To call it unremarkable might be a tad unfair, but it’s a very straightforward beer with not much to commend it in the flavour department.

I should probably be grateful I wasn’t served a completely full pint as it maintained its nothingness taste right to the bottom of the glass.

Not stirred by the beer, I took note of my surroundings and, from the varnished, stripped floorboards to the tartan covered furniture and the box for muddy boots at the entrance it’s clear this is a meticulously maintained pub with an eye on every detail.

Even the stand holding the menus on each table has a separate, individual section for beermats and the dartboard is neatly squirrelled away behind one of those specially-designed wall hangings.

Punch Taverns might own the building, but it’s landlady Ali who owns the business and, after half a decade in charge, you can tell she’s stamped her mark on everything in this village pub.

As well as the car park barrier, for which you need to get a token when you buy a drink, there’s also a wealth of CCTV cameras covering every possible angle of this sizeable boozer.

I sat opposite a big gent wearing black trackies and a black T-shirt who’d brought his slightly nervous alsatian called Winter with him to the pub and says he needs to keep returning to maintain her training regime!

Two other guys were perched at a table in the corner discussing the World Cup and naming lagers from every competing country – I didn’t hear what they came up with for Saudi Arabia.

The rest of the clientele were all sat at the bar under half a dozen trendy lightbulbs and one was even conducting his business from his bar stool with his phone on loud speaker.

In between securing tenders the chat shifted to an extremely forthright assessment of the actions of Stop Oil protestors and their general value to society.

Rolling Stones’ Wild Horses was on the jukebox but there’s nothing else wild about this pub – it’s totally slick and immaculate.

The large dining area is like a grand hall, the garden area is equally manicured and carefully packed away for winter and even the position of the aforementioned dartboard is only given away by the electronic scoreboard on the side of the fireplace.

My first beer hadn’t lived up to its name so I sampled the 4.3% Beavertown Neck Oil instead and was pleased to receive a full pint. What wasn’t as impressive was the price, surely £6.40 is too steep this far outside London, or even Canterbury.

The workers had now headed home and at least one of their seats at the bar was taken by a regular, accompanied by his springer spaniel who took up a position in the gangway behind his stool.

I headed for the facilities and took the opportunity to take a quick squint at the empty dining room. Like everywhere else it was wonderfully clean, tidy and prepped ready for use, even the fish were enjoying a crystal clear tank.

The toilets themselves were, of course, spotless, wonderfully fresh and impeccably maintained.

For some inexplicable reason I couldn't get the hand-drier going but, given the way this place is looked after, maybe the oversight was mine!

By the time I returned to the bar, chat had shifted to mortgages and, specifically, the difficulties faced in obtaining a decent deal these days.

All in all, and I’m sure every pub must have the odd moment, I found it hard to imagine this place ever being anything but completely restrained and controlled.

However, not currently being in need of mortgage advice I took my barrier token, wished Ali and her regulars a pleasant evening and headed into the gathering dusk.

The Woolpack, 17 The Street, Iwade, near Sittingbourne ME9 8SH

Decor: Everything was in the right place and it was all perfectly maintained – even packed away for the winter you could tell the outside area must be spectacular in warmer weather. Perhaps just a touch of character was missing. ****

Drink: Revisiting a bitter I haven’t sampled for many years proved to be a disappointing decision and the Neck Oil was definitely a step up. There was a reasonable variety of drinks available. ***

Price: The Courage Best was £4.40 a pint, which isn’t crazy money but probably expensive for what it is. Neck Oil IPA at £6.40 is definitely too hefty. A Stella and a San Miguel will set you back £11.30 for the two. **

Staff: This is a pub set up with strict guidelines and the hard-working landlady Ali looks to be in complete control. Efficient and effective, no-one could argue this isn’t a well-run business. ***

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