The location of the place is not particularly inspiring; near an industrial estate, a motorway flyover and directly beneath two huge electricity pylons. All that was missing was the stereo-typical burnt-out car on the roadside.

We arrived to what looked like a 1970's bungalow with a few extensions and a gravel drive (no cladding though). The black VW Golf parked up outside with the ‘Cheff’ registration plate made us snigger; was this Lenny Henry's 80's parody of the Chef, Gareth Blackstock??!!

We parked up and entered. Mmm. Knowone around. When someone eventually appeared (Mrs Bains), we were made to feel that we were an inconvenience. we were told to sign in. We were told to be at our table for 7:30pm (our original booking). We were led to our room, just about 10 yards along the corridor. The Charles 2. Pleasant room, mock English tudor/period French. The TV didn't work well. The stand-alone bath had huge cobwebs at its base and the shower curtain was cheap and badly planned. The bed was very uncomfortable; two average mattresses on top of each other to create a traditional high four-poster effect. It didn't work. After spending circa £550 for an overnight stay (£175 for the room) I'm sure they could invest in some quality furnishings.

We asked (Mrs Bains) whether it was possible to delay our sitting slightly (just around 20minutes as we had a long drive and wanted to relax a little). Her answer? A straight no! When asked why she simply said that “you must be joking” that was followed by a profanity. Charming.

Even though we were now on a strict deadline, we found a little time to walk out into the tiny courtyard. It is plain to see (given Mr Bains experience at Le Manoir aux Quat' Saisons) that they have attempted to duplicate this style; and failed.

We made our way to the bar (at 7:25pm). We sat and ordered some drinks. The restaurant manager appeared to make a point of checking her watch and informed us that our table was booked at 7:30pm. Warm service! I don't… More