One cold February morning in 2002, I set out in my faithful little Mini to review my first pub for The Herald newspaper. I chose one really close to the office, The Greyhound, at Besselsleigh, where I chomped my way through a tasty steak and ale pie served with chips.

Since then, I have reviewed roughly one pub a week for the past six years and six months, which comes out as a total of 320 pubs, though obviously, as regular readers will have noticed, I've visited some pubs several times because they have changed hands, or just because I liked them.

Sometimes, my beloved border collie came with me, sometimes my friend Liz or my colleague Chris Koenig, and now and again, I dined alone.

It was, therefore, with some sadness that I started the engine of the Mini last week and headed south to review what was to be my last pub. I shall miss these visits very much, but retirement beckons.

So, where to go for the last pub? Out of all those pubs I have visited, which one would I choose to raise a glass to The Herald readers and the happy years I have had writing for the paper?

"Go to the one you feel most comfortable in," said Reggie. "Go somewhere you would consider the paradigm English pub," said Chris, whilst Liz suggested I go somewhere that my dog might like.

In the end, I decided on The Plough, Long Wittenham, a pub where I am always made to feel welcome, which remains the paradigm English pub, and one my dog loves, as the River Thames abuts the bottom of its garden and Don, the bar manager, always gives him a doggie treat. And which (and this will prove a bonus for me now!) gives pensioners a 20 per cent discount on lunches served from Monday to Thursday.

As we headed towards Long Wittenham, Chris continued to question me about my choice, as it was a pub he'd never visited.

I explained that in the end, when it comes to weighing up what today's pub experience is all about, it comes down to people. The people who serve you. Over the years, I have had some simply scrumptious meals, but such meals are not always served with a smile. And that smile, which says Welcome and appears to mean it, is what it's all about.

I explained to Chris that the food served by Mel and Sandra Brown, who have run The Plough for more than 16 years, is basic pub grub, nothing fancy. It's unpretentious, it's honest and it's tasty. The beer, I added, is always good too, as Don, who has been there for 14 years, keeps a darned good cellar.

"You will like it," I assured him as I drove past the redbrick pub and into its car park at the back, "I promise you will".

And he did. As soon as he witnessed the warm welcome we were both given, he understood why I loved this friendly pub.

He was even more impressed that Don knew who he was and addressed him by name before going on to assure him that there was scampi on the menu. "How do you know I like scampi?" he asked.

What a silly question. The Herald newspaper is read from cover to cover in this pub and regular readers like Don know exactly what Chis is going to order - scampi, scampi and more scampi. He just loves it.

We ate in the garden alongside 40 members of a local motor club who arrived in vintage MGs, Bentleys, Cobras and even an E-Type Jaguar. It was their special day out. Their vehicles certainly put my little Mini in the shade.

Because it was one of those days, I ordered fish and chips, and yes, Chris had his scampi.

Our total bill, when my pensioner's discount had been deducted, came to just £15.

So, that's it, folks, the last pub. And, yes I did raise my glass to you all before heading back to the office because it's all been such fun!