I've never wandered into the pub to find the Chancellor having a pint

T'S BARELY past three o'clock, but the drinkers are out in force at the Wetherspoon in the Birmingham suburb of Oldbury. A man with a poppy pinned to his bobble hat paces to the bar for another pint of lager, while in the corner a group of pensioners set the world to rights over bottomless coffee. Few notice the tall man with a mane of grey hair swept back slipping inside the brass-handled doors.

- By Zak Garner-Purkis

But this is his empire. He is Tim Martin, founder and chairman of Britain's best known pub chain.

Martin sidles up to the bar and catches the eye of manager Jodie Harvey, 35.

"Tim," she says in a tone that just about masks the shock of seeing the big boss suddenly appear on a random Tuesday afternoon.

The Daily Express is joining Wetherspoon's chairman on a round of surprise visits to his pubs as the sector prepares for Rachel Reeves's costly national insurance hike. This measure, combined with other tax rises on booze, is tipped to have a devastating impact on the industry.

The Court of Requests in Oldbury is Martin's fifth unannounced visit. Since 11am he's been bombing around the Black Country in the back of a silver Mercedes people carrier and hopes to tick six to eight places off his list before the day is done.

Eager to keep a low profile and get a true snapshot of the places he's visiting, Martin never pulls up outside. The car is parked half a mile away and he approaches on foot.

"Billy Connelly once said the Queen must think everywhere smells of fresh paint," Martin says with a loud guffaw. "That's what I want to avoid. I'm looking to see if the tables are clean, if the lights are too bright and if the temperature is too hot or cold."

His pattern is the same in every pub. After quietly observing the venue, he makes his way to the bar where he gets two samples of ale and a cup of tea.

"I can't drink pints doing this," he says with a grin, "I wouldn't survive.

Once Jodie is free, she joins Martin for a chat. Squinting at his little black notebook, the chairman of an 803-pub empire digs into the smallest details.

"We've got a new lager; Poretti, how's that been doing?" he asks, "and the Kronenburg 1664?"