The Prince Of Wales, Rickmansworth

London pubs continue to surprise: what appears to be a run-down roadside inn has an entirely different personality behinds its traditional facade, very different to what we had expected, although if we had given more thought to the garish neon 'Open' sign, we may have been less surprised at what awaited within. Yes, it's a pub, a flint-fronted detached building in its own discrete (and, indeed, discreet) grounds, an eighteenth Century building which now contains a single U-shaped bar provided with comfy seats and a curtained off 'private' area. There is no food available. There is no real ale. The barman is cheerful and welcoming, though there is a no-nonsense air about him. The clientele is exclusively male. The three ladies working in the bar were young, minimally attired and attentive, although they completely failed to serve us drinks. It was entertaining, fun even, but if you do come here don't expect a CAMRA discount and don't bring the wife/girlfriend/mother, and make sure you have plenty of pound coins if you wish to stay longer than one 'song [as measured by the jukebox]'.