DECOR *** (lacking exterior’s history) DRINK ***** (great range of ales, beers and wines) PRICE ***** (fantastically good value) ATMOSPHERE ** (warm, cosy racism) STAFF ***** (fabulous) FOOD *** (tasty)

THE use of the olde English definite article ‘ye’ instead of the more than respectable ‘the’ in the name of this pub suggests the landlord is one of two things.

He or she is either one of those dried up, soporific history buffs who punctuate every conversation about an area with ‘fascinating’ facts about the place’s past or they are just trying to cash in on the boozer’s grand old age — all 350 years of it.

Without ever meeting the owner of this popular High Street hideaway, I may never know, but one thing is for sure, just as you should never judge a book by its cover, you should not judge a pub by its weatherboarded exterior or archaic sounding name.

Ye George Inn may loudly trumpet its historical credentials, but the only antiquities in this boozer are the punters who annoyingly prop up the bar, blocking the way for thirsty customers who simply wish to order a drink.

Either they can’t move as a result of a bizarre supergluing accident or its because they have misplaced their Zimmer frames and are unable to move to a seat unaided.

Undeniably, it’s a snug and cosy place to relax and unwind with a carefree drink, but there’s little inside to bear testimony to the boozer’s past.

So, squeezing myself through the throngs of half-sozzled pensioners I ordered an unbelievably cheap and lip-smackingly tasty Tennant’s Pilsner (£1.99).

Realising I may have to run this crusty gauntlet again soon, I decided to take advantage of their curry Thursday deal, ordering a chicken tikka masala and a small glass of Blossom Hill white wine (£4.99 altogether).

Patiently supping the remainder of my lager, I parked myself next to what appeared to be a sweet elderly couple. Sweet that is, until they opened their mouths.

Whipping out her mobile phone and laughing with unbridled mirth, the innocent little old granny gleefully began a tirade of racist jokes, each one topping the previous in offensive content.

Comparing black people to stinking dogs and ridiculing a Hindu’s bindi (that’s the dot on the forehead for anyone laughing too), no minority was left out.

However, their bigoted views on anyone a shade darker than their pasty white chicken flesh didn’t seem to extend to food, as they shamelessly went from a gag about Pakistani benefit scroungers to salivating over the menu’s range of delicious curries.

My own plate of “foreign muck” was bursting with flavour, even if it was a little too runny.

Fortunately, the fluffy naan bread and basmati rice did the trick of soaking up the excess sauce.

It’s a shame my meal had to be spoilt by a couple of casual racists, but Ye George Inn is, nevertheless, an atmospheric old boozer with some of the friendliest staff I have ever been served by.

As the nippy winter nights draw in, it’s an ideal place to warm up.

Just be wary of old ladies wearing white sheets on their heads.

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