I wouldn't normally write about a place so far out of town but this place was so impressive that I have to mention it. I spent a couple of days at the start of this week learning to drive a boat on Hayling Island and found this place while out looking for breakfast on the morning of the second day.
The service here is best described as friendly bordering on obsequious. I came to them bleary eyed, partially hung over and most terrifying of all, pre coffee. I had the pleasure of dealing with a stocky chap called John who sorted me out with a full English breakfast and a big cup of coffee.
The diner itself is like an upmarket greasy spoon with black walls bearing monochrome framed photos of the area in the 1950s and an odd sponged on pattern in white paint. It has the usual canteen style set up at the counter where the customer can select their cutlery from a segregated plastic tray, pick up the daily paper and head over to their chosen bolted seat.
I had only spent a short time marvelling through hazy eyes at the museum of catering past when my food and coffee arrived conveyed unto me by a man so friendly that he thanked me while he handed me breakfast. The bread, she was white, the coffee, she was milky and lo the beans, so very hot. It was then with my first scalding mouthful that I knew that were I ever to return to this island, my breakfast, she was to be found here. read more