James May Rejects Jeremy Clarkson Yet Again — And Drops a Surprising Bombshell About His Pub

Two pubs, two presenters, and one hilariously simmering rivalry that continues to brew years after Top Gear. The story of James May and Jeremy Clarkson’s competing drinking establishments has quietly become one of Britain’s most entertaining low-stakes feuds — a mix of friendship, sarcasm, and the kind of good-natured dickering only decades of camaraderie can produce.

And now, James May has added another chapter to the tale. In a candid, unexpectedly heartfelt interview on Radio X with Chris Moyles, the mild-mannered presenter revealed not only the current state of his beloved Wiltshire pub, The Royal Oak, but also offered a firm, almost comedic rejection of Clarkson’s beer.

Yes — James May officially said no to stocking Jeremy Clarkson’s booze. And he did it with one syllable.

A Pub Saved From Disappearing — And Now Finally Thriving

May didn’t set out to become a publican, and the decision to buy the Royal Oak wasn’t a vanity purchase or celebrity side hobby. It began with concern. Pubs across the UK have been closing at alarming rates, many becoming casualties of redevelopment, rising costs, and shifting community habits.

When the Royal Oak faced the threat of being turned into something decidedly un-publike, May stepped in. Not because he wanted a new business challenge — as he insists — but because the local community would lose a cultural cornerstone.

“It was a selfless act of charity on my part,” May joked during the interview. But beneath the dry humor was a genuine worry: What’s the point of countryside life if you can’t walk to a pub?

So he bought it. Then, in cruel irony, COVID lockdowns forced him to close the doors almost immediately. Months of uncertainty followed. Renovations began. Bills mounted. The dream of a bustling pub looked increasingly distant.

But May isn’t easily discouraged. He poured his fascination with craftsmanship, local ingredients, and proper British hospitality into the project. The result?

After years of effort, The Royal Oak is now officially profitable.

“It can wipe its own face,” May quipped — meaning the pub can finally support itself without draining his wallet.

A Liberal, Welcoming Pub — With One Exception

With the pub running smoothly, serving locally sourced dishes and pouring May’s own signature gin, talk inevitably turned to what else sits behind the bar.

Specifically: Clarkson’s beer.

Chris Moyles asked the question with a grin, and May’s answer was instant — a dry, unblinking “No.”

The studio erupted. Social media followed. A one-syllable shutdown became the headline.

But the refusal wasn’t rooted in bitterness. Instead, it was part of an ongoing cycle of cheeky back-and-forth between the two presenters — a kind of friendly feud fueled not by anger, but by decades of comfortable teasing.

Clarkson, now the proud owner of his own establishment — The Farmer’s Dog — has joked repeatedly that May is barred from setting foot on his property. May suspects he actually is banned, possibly because the Royal Oak boasts slightly better TripAdvisor reviews.

Does May care? Not at all.

“It’s like being banned from a golf club,” he smirked. “I didn’t want to go anyway.”

His own pub, he insists, is open to everyone. Even, presumably, his old co-host. “It’s a place for conversation, debate, and enjoying a superb range of gins.”

Farm Fest 2026: Another Chance for May to Be ‘Barred’?

The interview took another amusing turn when Moyles brought up the Great British Farm Fest, Jeremy Clarkson’s massive farming and food festival scheduled for May 2026 at Stonely Park.

James had no idea it was happening.

He raised an eyebrow and immediately fired off a characteristically gentle jab:
“Why isn’t it at Diddly Squat Farm? Isn’t that like having a party at someone else’s house?”

Moyles suggested Clarkson was cleverly avoiding cleanup responsibilities. May laughed, acknowledging the logic, and then wondered aloud whether he would even receive an invitation.

“Maybe he’ll invite me,” May said. “Or maybe he’s decided I’m barred.”

If the invitation never arrives?
“Well, I suppose I’ll just buy a ticket like everyone else.”

The festival promises appearances from Clarkson, Lisa Hogan, Caleb Cooper, Charlie Ireland, Adam Henson, chef Matt Tebbutt, and a lineup of farmers, musicians, and food experts. Whether May joins as a guest, an invited VIP, or not at all remains part of the ongoing joke.

A Rivalry Built on Friendship

For all the quips, refusals, and mock bans, the “pub rivalry” between May and Clarkson is far from hostile. It’s rooted in the comfortable, weathered bond formed through decades of traveling the world together for Top Gear and later The Grand Tour.

These are two men who have driven through deserts, raced boats, crossed the Arctic, crashed caravans, and survived working with Richard Hammond — all while bickering like brothers.

Their pub banter is simply the latest venue for that camaraderie. And as May settles into his role as a countryside publican, gin enthusiast, and soft-spoken defender of rural culture, he seems thoroughly content.

The Royal Oak is thriving. The locals are happy. The gin is flowing.
And whether he’s allowed at Clarkson’s farm or not, James May appears perfectly at peace with it.

After all, with a profitable pub of his own and countryside life intact, who needs Clarkson’s beer?