As politicians of varying abilities prepare to race for the keys to 10 Downing Street, I took the footpath to the Prime Minister’s other home – at Chequers.

This is Chequers, the country estate gifted to the nation in 1921, and ever since it has served as the rural retreat for Prime Ministers in need of fresh air, discreet meetings, or simply a weekend away from journalists shouting at them from the sidelines.

The estate takes its name from the medieval Checker family, who owned the land in the 12th and 13th centuries, before it passed to the Hawtreys, who built the Tudor manor house in the 1560s. Although its timbered appearance looks delightfully ancient today, that’s partly thanks to a 20th-century restoration which wisely undid a Victorian attempt to make the house look more Gothic.

In 1912, the estate was bought by Sir Arthur Lee and his wife Ruth, an American heiress who already happened to be living there anyway — the Edwardian equivalent of buying the house you’re renting because moving sounds exhausting.

Well connected politically, they were aware that a new breed of working-class people was moving into government, and soon a Prime Minister could be elected who lacked a country estate of their own to retreat to. As the Lee’s were childless, they took the remarkable decision to gift the entire estate to the nation to be used as a residence of the Prime Minister.

The Chequers Estate Act 1917, which enabled it, was also the first piece of legislation to formally recognise the role of a Prime Minister, even though the head of government had been referred to unofficially as “Prime Minister” since the early 18th century.

If the Prime Minister doesn’t want to use the house, then it passes down the line to the Chancellor, the Foreign Secretary, the US Ambassador, the Secretary of State for Environment, the First Lord of the Admiralty, the Defence Minister, the Speaker of the House of Commons, and finally, the Lord Chief Justice. Sadly for the above-mentioned folk, the Prime Minister of the day has always used Chequers for themselves.

What makes Chequers particularly gloriously English, however, is that despite being a heavily protected government estate with armed police, security cameras and legal warnings about trespassing under the Serious Organised Crime and Police Act, there is also a public footpath running right through it. Not discreetly tucked into some distant woodland corner either, but straight across the main driveway.

So while VIPs arriving at the main gates will be met by armed police officers and credentials checked carefully, the rest of us can quite simply walk through the estate.

This splendid absurdity came about after the government moved the estate’s entrance road in the 1920s, and in doing so, plonked it across an ancient right of way. Attempts to remove the footpath were met with the sort of fury normally reserved for village bypass proposals and cancelled pub quizzes. Ramblers, locals and assorted defenders of England’s sacred footpath network dug in their heels, and remarkably, they won.

And it’s still there – defiantly clinging on, and if you fancy, you can take a walk along it.

My trip was to walk from Wendover to Little Kimble, via Chequers.

Leaving Wendover and crossing the busy and very noisy A413, you get to cross over the future HS2 railway.

Despite the scar in the landscape today, come back in a few years’ time, and all you will see is fields, as the railway is being buried in tunnels. Expensive tunnels to protect the outraged locals from the occasional noise of the fast trains. And yet it runs right next to the A413, whose unending roar fills the air for miles around. Oh well.

Head into the woods and up the steep slopes to Bacombe Hill, with views of the landscape for miles around. But what you want to do is go to the Coombe Hill Monument.

This is the highest viewpoint in the Chilterns, offering stunning views, and it also has a memorial to the British dead in the Boer War. A sign on the other side says that it was erected in 1904, but was almost totally destroyed by lightning in January 1938, and then rebuilt. It’s very much a place to linger for a while and take in the expansive views across the landscape, while hopefully dodging the cow pats that scatter the ground.

My visit was accompanied by a Red Kite swirling around looking for lunch.

But turn your gaze away from the rolling valleys if you can, and over there you can see a red-brick house. That’s the back of the Chequers manor.

From here, fortunately,  it’s largely downhill as you head to Lodge Hill road and then down to the junction with Missenden Road. And it’s here that you’re on the border of the Chequers estate, and yes, that Tudor-style gatehouse is the original entrance that lords and ladies down the centuries would have passed through to their grand home behind it.

And it’s now that you might spy your first Section 128 warning sign and notice the first of many security cameras that will follow your route. A short walk along the road until you get to Buckmoorend farm shop – and opposite is the incongruous site of security cameras watching a gate with warning signs not to trespass, and next to it, the footpath gate inviting you to do just that.

And so you shall. It’s a nice walk through a field, not fenced off at all now, although you can still see the poles that once held wires to stop people and their dogs from wandering off. And more signs, older now, reminding you this is a protected site, so no wandering off. You’re not alone, as apart from the ever-present sense of security cameras watching you, this is a popular footpath to walk along. Some people are out walking alone, but most are out walking dogs.

Just a few minutes later, you come to a pedestrian gate in the fence, and just past is a road. And this is that famous driveway added in the 1920s that tried to slice through a footpath, and the walkers won.

So, step gingerly onto that road, and look left to see the secure gates that would have stopped you passing had you tried. But here on this narrow band of tarmac, you have the right of way to stand there. Yes, take some photos and enjoy the moment. But don’t linger too long, as sometimes that results in a visit from stern folk carrying guns and kindly asking you to move along now, thank you very much.

The trees were planted after the road was laid out, apparently to conceal it from enemy planes during WWII.

You can’t see the house itself from this location, but you can glimpse it through the woods on either side of the driveway. Cross over, and then I followed the footpath up the hill and eventually down to Little Kimble for the train home, or not much further, and you can get to Princes Risborough for more frequent trains.

It’s a decent and very pleasant two-hour(ish) walk, plus the few fleeting moments standing on that driveway. While utterly bonkers, it’s still the sort of thing that goes down well over the proverbial dinner party chatter.

Not many of us can go to Downing Street for a photo, but anyone can go to Chequers. And all thanks to a stubborn footpath that refused to budge.

Hurrah for the footpath.

However, there have been attempts to close the footpath.

In 1972, the estate tried to close the footpath, but was beaten back by the army of ramblers and locals outraged at losing their useful, and very cool, path between Kimble and Dunsmore.

In 1975, it looked as if the footpath would be closed on national security grounds, but in the end, a compromise was reached. The footpath used to cross the driveway about halfway along it, offering a much better view of the house. But after a court battle, it was agreed to move the footpath about 150 metres southwards, putting it closer to the main security gate.

That does mean you can’t see the house from the driveway, but at least the principle that a right of way existed, and shall remain existing.

In 1989, the Daily Star ran a scare story about how an IRA sniper could shoot the Prime Minister, and they were able to walk along the footpath for an hour without being stopped. All I can say is that the newspaper’s reporter walked exceptionally slowly, as the footpath is barely a couple of hundred yards long.

So, if you want to do something very silly, just to say you have done it, now you know how to.

There are also other government-owned estates for ministerial use.

Chevning House near Sevenoaks has a garden open day once a year, and although the house is not open, the gardens are worth a visit. Also, Dorneywood House in Buckinghamshire is open to the public for a couple of weeks a year.