It was 6pm now, on a Saturday, and we suddenly began to wonder if we’d better eat.
I’d booked a £30 Travelodge room at Exeter services next to the Rugby Club, and didn’t fancy diverting into the city centre looking for a free parking place next to a curry house.
Ah, that’ll do. Don’t see enough brown tourist signs on A roads these days.
Not a GBG pub, but not a Brewer’s Fayre 2-for-1 Carvery either, I guessed.
A massive car park, half dozen lads on tables outside directing us to the new entrance, a couple of dozen middle-aged couple (oh, that’s us) reading out the menu (not us).
Some parts of the King’s Arms looked quite ancient.
But not the overflow bit we were shown to, a modern square box with 1980s styling, Dad jokes and inevitable Ed Sheeran soundtrack.
BUT. The waitress was superb; cheery, conversational, efficient.
We can’t blame her for the head on Mrs RM’s Guinness (traitor), and the Teignworthy Thirsty Blonde would have graced the Beer Guide. Perhaps I’d squeezed in an injury-time pre-emptive, after all.
Dining pubs are usually rubbish for blog material, but here we had the joy of two “Loud Customers“.
An old guy over-emphasised his hatred of greens, while a pashmina lady (are there pashmina men ?) gave us the life history of her fear of ice, which the waitress skilfully evacuated from her orange juice.
The food came quickly and without fussy presentation. Liver and onions is the new quinoa salad, you know. I cleared Mrs RM’s plate.
Outside, it was suddenly very dark.