The Greyhound, Trowbridge

Locals pub - where the all gather around the central bar, leaving the rest of the pub free. Sunday evening and they were all sloshed. The banter, as found by Quinno, remains. Two separate people introduced themselves to me and asked what I was doing in their town. In a nice way. Conversation would have flowed better if the one chap didnt sound like Gerrard off Clarksons Farm, who was desperate to get my opinion on egg and spoon racing. When he saw I was interested in the football, he tried to pair me up with the only other chap not stood around the bar. A gent, quietly trying to watch the game. I think there was one handpull, but i stuck to Stella as no one else was on cask. I stayed for two. On leaving, the barmaid said "Make sure you tell them about the Greyhound when you get back to the West Midlands". I certainly will.

Didn't look open from the outside, painted an unappealing anaemic mushy pea colour with the door closed. Gave it a push to find a fairly basic interior which has also succumbed to the Wilko paint brush, though some of the original parquet flooring and bottle green leatherette bench seating remains and the furniture looks like it's the best part of 50 years old - the chairs will sell for quids to hipsters and were actually quite comfy. Pool table in the very basic left side space and UK TV Gold to keep the locals amused in the other, said locals all gabbing away and quite witty as well, classic pub banter. Two pumps with a serviceable Tribute on offer (NBSS 3). You won't be dashing here but as a basic friendly local it does a job. GBG’22 listed but can see why it didn't make the ’23 edition. Trowbridge is a poor pub town so you might want to give this one a try for the leftfield value. 5.5