Blue by name, blue by nature, though that’s just the landlord, the pub itself is like a giant watermelon, green on the outside and all shades of red inside.

The Foresters Arms is a traditional corner pub on Parrock Street which sets out its stall immediately with two signs on the door - strictly no children and the toilets are solely for the comfort of customers.

Landlord Blue has been behind the bar for 20 years (in January) and has the type of face that never gives away how he feels, not that he’s without a sense of humour, it’s just drier than the Atacama Desert.

This was 12.30 on a Tuesday lunchtime and it was slim pickings in Gravesend – the Canal Tavern was shut up tight, TJs was closed, a sign for ‘The Call Boy’ clearly had nothing to do with a pub any more, The Grapes was shut, pudding shop Creams is clearly no longer a pub and the Prince Albert, whose entrance was round the rear, was also clamped up tight.

I couldn’t face another Craft Union pub, making the Somerset Arms a ‘no-no’, so this green-tiled, wedge-shaped corner bar, which looks a little like a public loo was where I found myself.

Most of the screens in the Foresters, and there are plenty, were showing Bargain Hunt and local Dave at the corner of the bar immediately gave me his take that the red team had overpaid massively for a mantle clock, this, despite the fact, they went on to sell it for £180 and make a tenner.

I would have had a bitter but the only one available on tap, as is so often the case these days, was John Smith’s and somehow I just couldn’t face it so I went for a Staropramen instead and received my first Foresters’ surprise as it was only £4.30 (note to Editor. Blue doesn’t even entertain the idea of doing receipts so please wave the exes through).

It was dank and dark, that’s both the weather and the inside of the pub with its black beams and sections between painted in dark red gloss - even the pool table was grey.

Although nothing is light and airy, the furnishings are cared for and not in bad nick, though every available space has been used for storage – there are bottles under the long pew behind the pool table, stacked up against the fruit machine and even under the jukebox.

The corridor to the toilet is used to store a Henry the Hoover that looks like a goalkeeper in front of a white wire tray.

The toilet itself, whilst fairly tatty, is clean and fresh-smelling and looks slightly less like a toilet than the outside of the pub. There was no hot water, as is often the case these days, but there was soap and the hand dryer was effective.

Back in the bar, Bargain Hunt had ended and we’d got the BBC News at One, so Dave gave me his very individual take on what really happened with the car in Liverpool and why the fire at a scrapyard in Gravesend should actually be bigger news.

Silent and enigmatic, Blue had to take a phone call, so I faced a fair old wait for my next pint. Dave, as always, was keen to have an input and, although he was on Fosters like everyone else, recommended I try the Guinness as: “it’s a darned good drop here”.

So when the mysterious, impenetrable Blue re-joined the ‘party’, that’s exactly what I did, and I wasn’t sorry, it was an excellent example of the black stuff.

Comparing the outside of the Foresters Arms to a public convenience is quite unfair, not least because the council-run toilet opposite is quite modern, and besides I was quite taken by the way its history has been retained. It is dark inside but that too is actually in-keeping and it’s a well-ordered place that must have had care bestowed upon it fairly regularly.

Blue’s already done a 20-stretch, which is more than you’d get for murder these days, and I suspect he won’t be going anywhere soon, so good on him I say.

This is a small place and it was quiet when I was in so I needed to rely on Dave for pearls of wisdom and entertainment, but judging by the trophies over the bar and the photos dotted about the walls I think this must be a popular community hostelry and I suspect it is a lot busier at other times.

THE FORESTERS ARMS, 150 PARROCK STREET, GRAVESEND DA12 1ER

Décor: There’s a good deal of dark reds and dark browns but everything is well cared for and fits in with the venue. And, the more I think about it, the more I like the preserved green tiles and flaky pub sign. ***

Drink: On the ale front, it definitely falls down but the Guinness was great and I also spotted Cobra on tap - so not too bad. ***

Price: A pint of Staropramen for £4.30 is a decent price these days and £4 for a Guinness of this quality is an even better bargain. I never discovered the price of a Fosters but I assume it has to be three something. *****

Staff: He seemed like a top guy but was quite possibly the slowest-moving barman I’ve encountered and certainly the most expressionless. However, you’ve got to admire his staying power and I suspect Blue is well loved by locals. ***

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