We've often passed the place and thought we must try it sometime. Well, we did and it's one of those place you walk in and consider walking straight back out again. When it's anything like full you're right on top of each other and queuing for the carvery is ... err ... how can I put this? ... a bit snug.
For the most part the food was good with the exception of a Yorkshire Pudding that looked and tasted like today's burnt offerings and the human hair in the glass of orange juice. Rustic is one thing, wallpaper peeling off the walls stretches rustic charm to screaming point. The 1970s are over, guys, standards are supposed to have moved on a bit since then.
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