Let’s say the stars align, and you pull into the car park to see the door ajar. What now? Well, don’t expect a farm shop curated by M&S. Inside, you’ll find a small room with shelves that look like they were assembled by a drunk badger. The produce is seasonal, local, and expensive.
- Vegetables: A sack of spuds, some wonky onions, maybe a cabbage. All grown by the man himself (or, more accurately, by his team sweating in the background).
- Drinks: Hawkstone lager is the star. It’s good, but you’re paying for the story as much as the beer.
- Merch: T-shirts, tea towels, and the famous “Cotswold Lion” logo. You’ll buy a mug and feel like you’ve joined a secret club.
The prices will make you wince. £8 for a bag of potatoes? Yes. But that’s the joke, right? You’re not just buying a potato; you’re buying a narrative about how hard farming is. And it’s a pretty good narrative, even if your wallet weeps a little.
The Real Question: Is It Worth the Drive?
Here’s my honest, slightly ironic take: No, it’s not worth a three-hour round trip just to buy a carrot. But that’s missing the point. The Diddly Squat Farm Shop is a symbol, a meme, a tiny monument to the chaos of modern celebrity farming. It’s not about the shopping; it’s about the experience of nearly getting stuck in a muddy field for a bag of squash.
You’ll probably find it closed. You’ll take a photo of the locked door, sigh dramatically, and drive to a nearby pub where they actually serve food. And then, six months later, you’ll tell the story at a dinner party: “We tried to go to Diddly Squat, you know? Nope. Closed. Typical.” And everyone will nod like they’ve been there too.
Jeremy Clarkson's Diddly Squat farm shop back open ahead of second
