We had apparently (according to some reports) been too harsh on this place first time out, so we revisited it. Well, it’s as per, we’re afraid. A lovely girl opens the door for you as you walk in, but then - job apparently done - fails to tell anyone that customers are waiting downstairs (the smoking section) for drinks. For while there are more TV screens showing sports than you can shake a stick at, there are few customers and even fewer bar staff. Having waited five minutes in vain for a barman to appear we decided that either the place is some bizarre living art piece or that the bar was self-service. We left.