Wither 'n' Sea

It was a rainy Sunday and we drove to Withernsea, a pearl on the East Yorkshire coast to which I'd never previously been, for a spot of lunch.

Even the satnav said “where?” as I punched in the address.

As we headed along the most winding and most chicane-like roads the county has to offer, the weather cleared and it turned into a nice, sunny day.

Approaching the town I felt like we should have been in a convertible with the top down, shades on and nodding our heads while a song such as Don Henley's Boys of Summer blasted out.

There was a quaint white lighthouse at the end of the road and I thought it looked like such a nice place.

Then the needle scraped across the record as I spied the Heron Foods Megastore and the largest Coral bookmakers I've ever seen. The streets were full of be-tracksuited knuckle-draggers and I realised the sun was actually making it look like this turd had recently been polished.

Oh well.

We were to meet at the golf club for a carvery.

You might have a very different idea of what golf clubs are like when compared to this reality. I know I did.

I imagined driving up a winding road to a huge, stately home-like building with perfectly manicured gardens, oozing grandeur and the smell of old money. I imagined going inside and a maitre d' arching a quizzical eyebrow at me as he loaned me a blazer and a tie before ushering us into the members' lounge for aperitifs.

Nope.

The clubhouse was like an oversized Portakabin next to the course.

A sign saying 'Members Only on the Grass' was being ignored by some chavvy kids who chased a football around on said grass, doubtlessly high on Snapple and we headed inside.

I was clearly overdressed as I didn't look like I'd slept in a skip and we moved towards to the bar. I have never seen such a wide range of smooths available in any drinking establishment before and was forced to drink Theakston's “Best”.

But we were here for the carvery. A carvery which cost £5 each. I know, insanely cheap, right?

We were served our meat by a man who was Withernsea's equivalent of the only gay in the village character from Little Britain. He was supergay and superproud, defying the small town mentality of being anything different to anyone else and he was overdoing it massively. There was a choice of two meats and he was also in charge of the Yorkshire puddings, stuffing and cauliflower cheese. When asked what he wanted, one of our party said “everything I can see”. The man replied with “you'll at least need to buy me a drink first” and formed his mouth into an exaggerated O. It was like a Dick Emery sketch. He had so many facial piercings he looked like he was about to star in a Hellraiser reboot. His painted-on shirt was a little unnecessary too as nobody needs to see a man's nipples that close to food, but he was happy and he had stuck in Withernsea despite the fact that every day was probably made a nightmare for him by homophobes, some of whom are probably rooting around a little bit more than they're comfortable with in the closet.

The food was pretty good, for a fiver. The Aunt Bessie's Yorkshire puddings were a little rubbery and the cauliflower cheese was more like cauliflower water, but the meat was outstanding and the portions were very generous. The desserts were not good though. How do you go wrong with sticky toffee pudding? Answer: you buy it from Heron Foods and serve it with some flavourless ice cream, but serve it in a large bowl and drizzle toffee over it to try and camouflage the fact that your supermarket reheat job is far from gourmet. 1/10 for effort.

After lunch we saw the town centre, a mist having descended which made it look somewhat sinister. A drink in the converted lifeboat house while watching Viz-like characters do their best to recreate a Michael Jackson's Thriller atmosphere outside was frankly terrifying.

We left soon after, surprised the wheels were still on the car, and I'm sure I could hear the sound of the satnav crying in the glove compartment.