The Waggon, Taunton

Previously The Waggon and Horses, this enormous estate pub is fronted by a litter-strewn car park. Passing through the nicotine honour guard, you enter a beaten-up large bar with two or three separate square areas, open plan but with the appearance of zonality. There is a reasonablly sized garden at the side, though it was rather uninviting, which is probably why the smokers used the front door area. The décor is overdue a refresh, and someone really ought to pick up all the toys (whether for dogs or the many children running off their leads wasn’t clear) cluttering up the floor. There is a pool table, dart board and TV screens blaring out the ‘music’ of Sean Paul and his ilk. There was a small poodle cross behind the bar, possibly the most intelligent and best behaved local present. A solitary handpump on the bar had clearly not been used for its intended purpose for a long time; the best bet was bottled Bombardier given that there was also no real cider or anything approaching keg bitter on offer. It wasn’t clear whether food was available, but even if it were I doubt I should have eaten here as it felt decidedly grubby. I don’t think I’ll be rolling back in here.