The Packhorse Pub

with a name that really sounds like a mule on his last legs, this pub doesn’t start off doing itself any favours. The first face we see at an interesting cubby hole window on the edge of the first room in the venue is that of the barman. But he is too busy to chat about whats good about the place. Looking round i can see why. Its a souped up semi detached house with cops out front reviving a guy who looks green. The venue is divided into badly furnished rooms with chavs and fruit machines. It is also expensive and the light rock music provides on level of comfort to drinkers who stand in the fashioned hall.

Despite this house effect it is a standard bar. Overall the Pack Horse gives you a ‘can’t really relax’ feeling with people constantly asking you to move to accomodate pushing and shoving, a sad 4/10