Porters, Chatham

The entrance to the Six Jolly Fellowship Porters is a nondescript doorway in amongst some dining establishments. It is easily missed as the only indication that there is a pub on site is understated signage on the façade and a small hanging sign. After scaling a flight of stairs I found the bar area which is located on the first floor. There is no disabled access, although I would imagine the bar has step free access from the Dickens World side when the attraction is open. I must admit to being a little disappointed with the décor because I was expecting over the top faux Dickensian but found primary school art done on the cheap. There was some loud background music playing during my recent Thursday evening visit and I noted that regular live music and DJ nights were advertised. This pub has a license until 3am on Saturdays when I imagine that it is horrendous. I didn’t spot any TV screens and there were no live sport advertisements. The bar is stocked with standard draught and food is available with the cheapest main costing £7.50. I plumped for a half of Fosters which was politely served, but turned out to be flat and tasteless. I suppose that I shouldn’t really be that disappointed with this place as in reality it is just a bar in an out of town entertainment park. I’ll not be returning anytime soon.

By day, Porters is an integral part of the Dickens Centre, a Dickens-themed restaurant (hence the eponymous reference to the pub in Our Mutual Friend - supposedly based on The Grapes in Narrow Street, E14, which is nothing like this place at all), but by night (well, after 6pm) it becomes a pub open to all. It occupies the first floor of a modern commercial building above various shops. It's a pretty dreadful bar purveying excess alcohol to the mindless. It has the atmosphere of an Aya Nappa nightclub out of season, full of young semi-drunks who don't really know why they're there. It does 'food', but this is very formulaic and poor VFM, and its range of 'cuisine from all ages and cultures' would certainly be wholly unrecognisable to anyone from Victorian London (apart from the thing that resembled deep fried rat, of course). The staff are generally ignorant, and we found it difficult to order drinks as we are not native Neanderthal speakers. No real ale, so why the Dickens would anyone want to come here?