It was a perfect setting for a spring day, next to a 15th-century barn. Other walls and buildings had clearly recycled ancient masonry over the centuries. This was in Kent. Though not that far from Ashford station, it was a garden deep in the |garden of England: l’Angleterre profonde. There are excellent local pubs, with absolutely no pop music, but proper hoppy beer as well as proper dogs, looking forward to the shooting season.

There was also modernity, in the shape of the Pleasant Land distillery, which has the most up-to-date impressive-looking German kit. Vorsprung Durch Technik also applies to pot stills. The fellow who inspired all this is Sebastian Barnick. After six happy and successful years in the navy, he was diagnosed with a marginal case of colour-blindness which would have debarred him from the most interesting aspects of seaboard life. So what to do for a new career? Obvious: turn to drink.

During his nautical career, Sebastian had been able to travel a great deal and sample the local grog, including coconut wine in the Seychelles, celebrating a successful mission to suppress piracy. After leaving the navy, he went on a pilgrimage to serious vineyards. He is eloquent on the subject, especially when discussing South Africa, Austria and the Rhineland. Indeed, he will sound almost mystical. ‘Taking agricultural products and immortalising them through man’s mastery of fire’ – that is his philosophy.

Sebastian was entranced and moved by the experience of sailing ships through the world’s oceans. To enjoy all that, the navy depends on professionalism. The same is true of wine-making, and of distilling. Sebastian found himself increasingly drawn to the creation of spirits, partly because he was also enthusiastic about living in Kent and supplying the modern equivalent of the navy’s wardrooms with what is now more likely to be gin than rum.

He assembled a delightful team, most of them already acquaintances – but also including Andrew Smith. An old friend of mine, Andrew has been selling spirits all over the world for about 50 years. What he does not know about the spirits business is not knowledge.

He would have got involved only if three conditions had been met. First, that he thought it would fly. Second, that those involved were wholly committed. Third, that it would be fun. To judge by my experience on that sunny Sunday afternoon – with a scent of hog roast to whet the appetite and a succession of handmaidens asking ‘Have you tried this?’ – those criteria are triumphantly met.

They say that White Cliffs gin, Pleasant Land’s staple product, tastes of freshness and country air. My palate concurred. The distillery makes a sound dry martini too, that vital restorative if the blood alcohol level ever falls to a dangerous low. But it also produces vodka, amaretto and eaux de vie, and is working on an apple brandy – Kentish apples, of course, although even outside the EU they will still not be allowed to call it calvados (it will be). I was initially sceptical: would not such a range of products risk overstretch? No sign of it: the range only entices one to try everything.

Pleasant Land is organic, using local produce, including botanicals. But do not let that put you off.

The result is a wholly professional and sophisticated selection of bottles. Look out for it, and there will be no disappointment.