Plough, Stonebridge Road, Ebbsfleet

CLIMB over the old bike abandoned in the car park, negotiate the rubbish strewn around the entrance, and the first thing you'll notice about The Plough in Ebbsfleet is the smell.

I wouldn't like to guess exactly what it is, but maybe something no longer living!

The bar is dingy and dark and, on this particular Saturday afternoon, had a massive TV showing the football scores on Sky.

I'm not sure why it was on because the audience was zero.

Actually, not quite zero. To be strictly accurate, a child, aged about six or seven, was curled up asleep on a bench seat.

She had thoughtfully chucked her trainers on the floor before climbing under her blanket maybe sleeping was the only way to escape the smell?

Either way, during my visit she was the only other person in the back bar and never stirred.

Come to think of it, a fat, scruffy dog was also asleep behind the bar for my entire visit whether he was getting away from the smell or causing it, remains a mystery.

The tortoise behind the bar was probably the best off he was long dead and there was nothing left of him but his shell.

Being the stalwart I am, I ignored all my misgivings and ordered a drink.

Asking for a pint of best bitter, the formidable barmaid told me she only had John Smiths and asked if Mrs PubSpy wanted ice in her wine.

For £4.90, the bitter was very average and the wine, even iceless, less than average.

Mini-PubSpy showed far more sense than the adults he decided immediately not to drink or eat anything and simply asked how long we'd be staying.

Situated on the same traffic island as The Fleets' home ground I assume the pub survives from their home games even then, surely only unsuspecting away fans would venture in.

Home fans have probably learnt their lesson long ago.

No, if you visit the Plough then it is very much against my better advice.

Everything I saw, with the exception of the obnoxious, bigoted bore sitting at the far end of the bar (pesky mirrors - Ed), was either asleep or dead.