‘Is this really paradise?’

Don’t believe everything you read! Secret Drinker heads to a vast sports bar that isn’t all it says it is.

The first thing you see in the St Lawrence pub is a sign informing you this is a House of Paradise and there are five lovely hostesses waiting to welcome you on the first floor.

This tavern on the High Street in St Lawrence, Ramsgate, doesn’t look like a house of ill repute, what it looks like is an extremely boring council house built in the 1970s, which has then had a large garden shed plonked in front of it.

However, once you’ve passed the sign offering you a good time with a handful of hostesses you’ll immediately see another sign which, in block capitals, tells you: ‘DON’T BE A D***’

Having decided not to be, I walked on past a picture of the Mona Lisa proudly displaying her buttocks and approached the bar.

A barmaid, with very swollen lips, was busy chatting to a punter leaning on the bar about the best way to transport horses but left a question about horse boxes unanswered to serve me.

There were no ales available, despite a sign advertising cask ales on the front wall, so I selected a pint which seemed popular with several regulars and chose to pay the £5.60 for my Moretti by card. The barmaid was apologetic for the card machine as she said it, like everything else here, takes a little bit of time to get warmed up.

Following several false starts, and two re-entries, I was finally able to pay for my pint and retired to a quiet corner to see if I could gain any further intel about this ‘sports bar’.

The ‘warming up’ comment did actually make sense as the place was freezing, though I was in just after the opening time of 2pm and I assume it must warm up considerably later in the day as more folk come in.

I was halfway through my pint when the music came on, presumably the music system had now warmed up, and we were treated to Starry Night by Peggy Gou, which was followed by a number of eclectic tunes.

There are TV screens everywhere, the majority were showing Friday afternoon horse racing but others were displaying golf and a few Sky Sports News (later switching to IPL Cricket). However, I would suggest the most important screen, should you be driving, is on the left-hand side of the bar, where you need to log your registration if you’ve taken advantage of the pub’s car park.

The pub also has more than its fair share of CCTV coverage and I suspect there aren’t too many uncovered corners here.

There are also big, fluorescent fruit machines, a greycovered pool table, a dartboard and plenty of flags and football shirts pinned to the ceiling.

Conversation at the bar had

shifted to the rights and wrongs of women being shouted at in the street by men and one guy at the bar divulged it was his ruby wedding the following day and that calling out in the street had been the start of it all – a lorry driver at the time he’d spotted a mini skirt and couldn’t help himself – now, 40 years on he reckoned they’d never had an argument.

Apart from the celebrating ex-lorry driver, there were only three other fellows in the pub at this early hour.

One, obviously wanted to be alone and had taken himself off to the big shed at the front, aka the outside smoking area, which was actually fairly plush with more TV screens and plenty of seating, though mind the step back into the bar, it’s a big ‘un.

The other punters were discussing the barmaid’s latest round of Botox which she admitted was making her face ache a little.

I had another pint and even got talked into sampling a

packet of saucy BBQ Space Invaders – they won’t be for everyone but at 40p you can’t argue with the price.

Dogs are allowed, I don’t believe there are steps which would cause disabled people any problems, apart that it is, from the one back into the pub from the smoking shed and possibly any which might lead to the ‘entertainment’ on the first floor, where there might just be a rooftop area.

I have to be frank and say I don’t regret the fact that the St Lawrence was closed when I first tried the door just after midday as it meant I got to walk up the road to the excellent Aussie Arms instead.

For me, sadly, the St Lawrence Tavern is very much second best to this great backstreet boozer that’s just a stone’s throw away.

The sign on the front of the pub advertises cask ales but I assume it might be a little out of date. Right, football shirts decorate the ceiling over the entrance to the pub