The Sportsman, Rochester

A tiny, malodorous single-room back street boozer, largely dominated by a pool table which doubles as a climbing frame for the many feral children that run freely around the room. There is a single dry handpump on the bar, no real ale or cider available, nothing resembling decent beer in bottles. There is no reason to come here, and it's no surprise that this pub has opened and closed a few times in recent years.