If you’d told me a year ago that I’d one day be walking through the doors of 10 Downing Street, I’d probably have said, “Aye right — and I’ll be riding there on a flying sheep.” But life is full of surprises, and suddenly there I was: me from The Halfway, standing outside that famous black door, trying very hard to pretend my shoes were more “Westminster” than “Abergavenny market day.”
I’d been invited as part of a celebration of small businesses — pubs, farms, producers, shops, all the brilliant folk who keep our communities ticking. Now, I’m not the type to put myself on a pedestal (I can barely balance on a barstool without wobbling), but I knew this was a chance to carry a little piece of The Halfway with me. And that thought kept me steady.
Definitely not home from home


Walking into Downing Street felt like stepping into another world. Chandeliers, portraits, carpets that probably cost more than the pub roof — you get the idea. It was all very grand, but I’ll be honest: nothing there felt as warm as a busy evening at The Halfway. Still, I took a deep breath, reminded myself I was representing all of you, and headed in.
A little chat with Sir Keir
Now, I’m not one for “holding court” or giving big speeches. That’s not me. What I did have were a few gentle conversations — the kind where you smile, take your time, and hope you don’t knock over an historic vase. At one point I even found myself chatting with Sir Keir Starmer, the Prime Minister. And for anyone wondering: no, I did not “tell him how to run the country.” I simply shared, in the same way I’d talk to someone over the bar, what life is like for a little rural pub like ours.


I spoke quietly about community spirit, the kind you only really understand if you’ve lived it. I mentioned how The Halfway has always been more than a pub — not just to us as a family, but to the wonderful people who fill it with laughter, stories, creativity, and care. I talked about local producers, and how proud we are to champion them: the makers who shape the character of our area. I talked about the evenings and the afternoons when we host our locals, our tourists or our workshop lovers!
Little stories leave big impressions
These aren’t just events on a calendar — they’re little anchors of village life. And I could tell that sharing these stories from the heart mattered more than any polished “presentation” ever would.
I also couldn’t ignore what our community has been through recently. The devastating floods in Monmouth and Skenfrith in particular have tested people in ways you only really understand if you’ve stood in wellies watching the water rise. Businesses damaged, homes disrupted, farms struggling, families shaken. So yes, I mentioned it — Because sometimes the quiet truths carry the most weight.


A blend of nerves and confidence
And throughout all of this, I felt a strange blend of nerves and confidence. Nerves because, well… it was Downing Street. Confidence because everything I said came from the lived reality of The Halfway and Pubtopia – a place held together not by grandeur, but by good people, hearty food, hard work, and enough community spirit to warm any stormy night.
Leaving through that famous black door, I didn’t feel important. I didn’t feel “official.” I certainly didn’t feel like someone who belonged in Westminster hallways. What I felt was proud — not of myself, but of what our pub stands for, and of the people who make it what it is – even those of you I’ve barred from time to time!
Go all in on your local community this year
This Christmas, especially after the floods, I’d love to gently encourage everyone — wherever you live — to support your local pubs, shops, farms, producers, and small businesses. These are the places that hold us together when times get tough. They’re the places that make memories, feed us, comfort us, connect us, and remind us we’re part of something bigger.
From The Halfway to Downing Street, and all the way back home again, the message I carried with me was simple:
We are more than a pub — because you’ve made us so.
Thank you for being part of our story. Thank you for supporting us. And thank you, truly, for reminding me why this little pub matters so much.
— Rhi
