Probably the most unwelcoming pub I’ve walked into all year, I couldn’t believe how flat and lifeless the place was at 8.30 on a Friday night.

And what was even worse was the way the staff at The Mayfly in Hawkinge made you feel they were doing you a favour just by serving you.

We made our selections from the menus on the table but, having waited an age at the bar, I was informed if we were lucky we might get a pudding. Having begrudgingly imparted this information the barmaid began to wander off before I called her back to at least request some drinks.

Confusion reigned regarding the beers available as, according to the barman, ‘some fool’ had attached the pump clips onto the wrong pumps. Whether I was finally served a pint of Directors or a 61 Deep became irrelevant once I tasted it as either way it was dreadful.

You might think a bargain basement price of £2 represented a good deal, but based on the quality I’d say it was overpriced.

Nowhere near as daft as he looks, The Apprentice immediately switched his selection to Estrella, which he described as an adequate pint and a million times better than mine!

The peace and quiet was then broken briefly by a pair of extremely well-oiled gentlemen who carried out an overly elaborate welcome which began with lots of friendly hugging and finished with one bloke having to hold the other one up straight.

Declining the offer of puddings I took the opportunity to ask the barman if this was typical for a Friday night and, almost apologetically, he suggested we’d be better off visiting a different local pub and recommended either the White, or Black, Horse – both of which are nearby in Canterbury Road apparently.

I did point out, that given the kitchen had closed at 7.30pm, it was a pity someone hadn’t thought to take the menus off the tables or at least put a note on them saying what time they stop serving.

Having informed team SD to drink up as we’d be seeking a warmer welcome elsewhere, I walked past the lads playing pool to use the gents and this pub visit plummeted even further. Forget for a moment the UFO (unidentified floating object) in the toilet bowl, the toilet floor was absolutely swimming in stale urine with a stench that lingered long in the nostrils.

I headed straight outside to gulp in large lungfuls of fresh air and the smoking area, with carefully arranged tables and chairs, was far more welcoming than the inside of the pub, despite being totally deserted.

Once my head cleared I made my way back in on the far side of the bar and passed the landlady who was propping the door open with one arm, the other being encased in a plaster cast.

The big screen in the bar read Absolute Radio but there was a poster advertising upcoming gigs although it didn’t look to have been updated since July.

Mrs SD and The Apprentice hadn’t moved from their leatherette bench so without bothering to retake my seat I indicated we’d long since overstayed our welcome at this particular hostelry.

During his online search for somewhere decent to eat in The Apprentice had also Googled mayflies and reliably informed me the females are lucky if they managed to live for five minutes, while the males have a much longer lifespan and can survive for as long as two days.

I noted we’d already spent the equivalent of five female Mayfly lifetimes in this desperately depressing boozer and it was high time to take flight ourselves.

A small gang of lads, wearing their baseball caps back to front, had taken up residence at the bar, presumably in the forlorn hope of being served. Apart from this, it felt for all the world as if they were ready to close the pub by 8.45pm.

We hadn’t received any sort of welcome and there certainly wasn’t any ‘Cheerio, thanks for popping in, hopefully see you again soon’ – Marston’s has got a real challenge on its hands turning this place around.

MAYFLY, DEFIANT CLOSE, HAWKINGE, FOLKESTONE CT18 7RU

Decor: The majority of the pub is set up for dining and feels a bit like a diner, the less said about the gents the better, but the smoking area was quite well maintained. **

Drink: Despite the barman’s uncertainty, I reckon I was served a pint of Courage Directors, which was pretty dreadful. The Estrella was a good deal better but Mrs SD said her Sauvignon Blanc had a distinctly unusual taste. *

Price: The large, ‘unusual tasting’ Sav Blanc was £8.20, the bad tasting pint of Directors was £2 and an Estrella was £5.40. **

Staff: Disinterested, ill-informed and poorly marshalled, it didn’t feel as if the staff wanted to be here anymore than we did.

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