Drink 3/5 Decor 3/5 Food 2/5 Price 4/5 Atmosphere 3/5 Staff 4/5

AS YOU drive towards the Tigers Head, the first thing you notice is how it is lit up in a rather decadent shade of fluorescent green. At least it stands out but the question is will this pub get the PubSpy green light? The answer is, well, almost.

The first thing to say is this is a real blokes' pub with four pool tables, a quiz machine and footy on the TV screens.

You can almost feel the testosterone dripping from the walls. They didn't even put a slice of lime in my Corona, for goodness sake. Serves me right for not drinking a man-pint, I suppose.

The ale selection isn't too clever, with only Fosters and two types of Kronenbourg on offer for lager lovers and John Smiths for the bitter bods.

Apart from this, the fridges are well stocked with the usual selection of alcopops and shorts but drinking one of those somehow just wouldn't feel right in this place.

The food, if my cheeseburger and chips is anything to go by, is distinctly average but at least pretty cheap at a little over four quid.

Trouble is you could be forgiven for thinking the pub doesn't serve food, such is the lack of information on its culinary offerings.

Two slightly stained, crumpled menus stapled to the bar are all diners have to go on.

When I asked why there weren't menus on individual tables, the barmaid told me they had "all been nicked".

At least she's honest.

It is also worth saying we had to wait a good 30 minutes for our food because the chef was "on his break".

I bet Gordon Ramsey doesn't do that.

But it is unfair to dwell on the negatives this is actually not such a bad boozer.

Okay, it's a bit lad's mag' but at least it is open about its bloke-ish credentials.

If you want a good, honest caveman-style boozer, this place is definitely worth a look.