The Gibraltar Gardens or The Four Feathers?

The Gibraltar Gardens on Heigham Street is one of Norwich's iconic public houses.  It's had a chequered history too with various owners and landlords over the years.  Situated on the banks of the River Wensum it was recently refurbished and re-opened under new management.  Their website www.yourgibraltargardens.co.uk promises much which is why we decided to go there for Sunday lunch.  That, I can assure you, was a mistake.
Let's be honest - many pubs are struggling to compete with Sainsbury's et al.  That's because Stella Artois is available off the supermarket shelf for as little as £1/pint whereas your local watering hole is charging close to £4/pint for the same brew through the pump.  Long gone are the days when Norwich could boast a pub for every day of the week and a church for every Sunday.  Now it's a pub closure most weeks and a TESCO Express on every corner. 
However, supermarkets do have an Achilles' Heel and that is that the vast majority of people prefer to go to the pub.  Pubs are places where friends and family celebrate life.  We eat and drink and laugh and gossip in them.  They are places where memories are made.  Of course you could go to ASDA and buy four tinnies and a microwave meal before settling down at home to watch a repeat of Doctors on the television.  But that would make you very very (note the emphasis) very sad. 
The ambience and occasion of it all should mean that the pub edges the supermarket every time but that's clearly not the case because so many of our pubs have closed.  They have closed because they failed to offer anything over and above the practice of consuming alcohol for the sake of it.  We don't want 1970's boozers any more - we want so much more than that.
All we wanted from The Gibraltar Gardens was a nice Sunday roast washed down with a couple of pints but it didn't start well. In fact it started in the garden (which, with river frontage, should have been pleasant but was in fact like sitting in a rubbish bin/ashtray) waiting for the pub to open.  Eventually, and quite some time after midday, The Gibraltar Gardens 'opened' for business.  What actually happened was that there was a vague noise akin to a bolt unlocking at which point we mused as to where the entrance might be.
Entry secured we found a barmaid who didn't understand the long-standing tradition of serving customers in the order at which they actually arrive at the bar.  It went downhill from there - the Stella Artois was off and the till wasn't working.  The bar was full of people who looked like they were on day release from Broadmoor. 
"We've booked a table for four at midday" I explained.
"I don't know about that" she replied "I'll just need to check we have a table"
Together we poked our heads around the corner and surveyed a completely and utterly empty restaurant.  Hardly surprising given that she had only just unlocked the front door.
"Yes, I think you can have a table" she said without any hint of irony, just the monotone disinterest of someone who would rather be on a Playstation. 
The Little Chef-esque extension that purports to be the restaurant at The Gibraltar Gardens is as tacky as the older part of the building is historic.  The menu is extensive (always a bad sign) and the service average.  No ambience worth paying a premium for here, we almost left for Sainsbury's but decided to stay.  Chicken roasts ordered, we gazed out of the window at the large expanse of lawn covered in cigarette butts and bits of plastic.  Little did we know that things were not about to improve with the arrival of our food - I don't believe I have ever eaten a chicken with feathers on before (see pic).
Perhaps The Gibraltar Gardens should be renamed The Four Feathers.  Needless to say, we didn't hang around for pudding.
It could have been much worse - one of my friends ate there later the same day and had a fly stuck to his pie...