Heysham.
Not a good experience this time- it’s still pleasantly slightly posh, but when we went to the bar and asked about the possibility of sandwiches, the response, while not actually rude, was terse enough to make me wonder if I’d asked if there were any kittens I could stamp on.
My IPA was vinegary, and the terrace outside had the joy of someone conducting a long, loud, grating video call on speaker.
I left half my (pricey) pint and we left.