I

n 1984, 102 people, a dog named Bob and a stuffed-cat met at a pub in Bury St Edmunds.

An unusual meeting under normal circumstances but noteworthy in this instance because the pub was The Nutshell, the 15-by-7-feet holder of the smallest-pub-in-Britain title.

Of course it’s not the size of the place that matters, it’s the soul. “I could be bounded in a nutshell,” said Hamlet prophetically, “and count myself a king of infinite space.”

Converted to a drinking den in 1857, the building’s traditional pink Suffolk walks and oak panelling are even older. So old, in fact, that the tiny building has gained four ghosts: a small boy on the top floor, a Victorian gentleman on the second floor, and a ghostly monk and pregnant nun in the cellar.

Hear the full, intriguingly scandalous tale over an appropriately-named Abbott Ale from the local Greene King Brewery - within barrel-rolling distance down the road; or visit the first-floor restaurant, book a table (there’s only one) and order the chicken dinner: it’s just a pickled egg.

Proof that if there’s a quirkier, more idiosyncratic and fun drinking hole in the UK, then it’s definitely a bigger one.