Spit and Sawdust, SE1

There’s no real ale in here. When I was in there was a young lady at the bar with her baby in a buggy, and with her baby’s accoutrements on the bar counter nestling among the empty crisp packets. The group of men at bar with whom she was chatting sporadically were swearing freely. The lights weren’t on in one half of the room, adding a bit of additional gloominess to the already dismal atmosphere. There were just a handful of tables and chairs occupying the room leaving plenty of empty space, and Smooth Radio was being played through the TV. The barmaid didn’t crack a smile, and frankly who can blame her. It doesn’t look as if anyone has made any effort to make this place more welcoming. Eventually the baby started crying and then I knew it was time to leave.