One thinks of Milhouse Van Houten [1] of Simpsons fame, does one not? At least we did en route and thus challenged the establishment’s sense of humour by expecting to find a framed photo of the cartoon character somewhere on the premises. Alas no photo. And no sense of humour of any description was therein found. Instead, we discovered a dark but agreeable bar (called the Dicey Reilly) serving a sugary pint of Guinness stout. Like many of its ilk the atmosphere is cut in half by a fat and noisy lounge operating as a stinking food hall. Deafening are the children’s screams. And so, on to the pertinent question: would we ever venture to return? Eat my shorts, Mill House! 

FOOTNOTE

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milhouse_Van_Houten

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