Just...just no.
Even as somebody who would happily drink alone surrounded by men who were already pensioners the day I was born, I still found the Sandown a pill too bitter to swallow. This is a shabby, scabby, crappy Wavertree pub infested with society's dregs and an unhealthy predilection to karaoke.
Even though there were only about eleven customers in the place when I visited, they still insisted that the horrible caterwauling be cranked up to a volume that would knock the eruption of Krakatoa into a cocked hat. Sitting in my gloomy corner (I wouldn't let the barmaid turn the light on) I was forced to look upon my unfinished pint as a chore whose completion would allow me to escape, the very antithesis of a good drink.
No thanks, Sandown. read more