It’s market day and you can’t get a seat anywhere. Mostly Grockles tucking into Timbo’s wonder meals and at these prices why not, supplemented by a handful of locals sat around the bar. The beer’s disappointing though, I should have had a half but I wouldn’t have been able to use my Wetherspoon’s CAMRA 50p a pint discount though. Hanlon’s Stormstay Premium Ale (5%), £1.79 a pint with my voucher. I reckon that’s pretty expensive for poor ale that was nearer NBSS 2, than 2.5.
I’ve never had any of the small Exeter Breweries beer before and after this experience I probably won’t be trying any more. Mind you, I reckon it’s The Greyhounds fault and not the brewery’s, five or six years ago they served a decent pint here, but they seem to be adrift at the minute.
Instead of choosing the Local option, they also had Hanlon’s Yellowhammer, I should have looked to the unholy Trinity of Abbot, Ruddles and Doom Bar. But, if things get as bad as that I might just stop drinking beer, the two draught traditional ciders would have been better value, methinks.
The Greyhound is a pub turned into a Wetherspoon’s as opposed to a something totally not a pub turned into a pub. It looks like it has been quite a fine coaching inn once upon a time and the East Street facade is quite imposing. The entrance and hallway is actually the archway through the middle of the pub, where the coaches and horses would have originally entered the yard. There are a few tables around the main bar area, a front parlour on the bar side of the hall and then a larger family/eating room on the other side of the entrance which isn’t conducive to drinking. They also have rooms.
The yard is quite pleasant and the stand out feature. On a sunny afternoon it was quite busy. A small dog sat on top of a larger one and dozed. Professional drinkers snaked out in ones and twos for a drag. A table of independent, well behaved fourteen, maybe fifteen year olds tucked into chicken fillet burgers. Wouldn’t have happened in my day, for a start we didn’t have the cash, let alone be allowed into licensed premises.
I went back inside and sat at one of the elevated tables with the locals. An old guy must have seen the kids outside because he told his mate he’d have got a clip around the ear off his Dad if he’d been seen loitering anywhere near a pub.
His mate nodded and asked why that was?
‘Well all the kids hanging around outside the pub were waiting for their Fathers inside weren’t they, and my old man didn’t want anyone to think he was the sort who was always in the pub.’
‘Oh, I see. Just shows how things change, eh,’ the other said and they carried on sipping their Doom Bar and whisky chasers.
On the Wetherspoon’s Scoring System (WSS) I’d give this branch 1.5 and the old, ‘could do better’. Although it was busy, it’s not massive inside and I’ve always found that the tables need clearing, wiping and everything wants just pulling through with a Christmas tree. The shot of the uninspiring and mucky carpet sort of evidences everything I’d want to say.