Once described by a work colleague of mine as “Familyville”, the term fully encompasses what Island Gardens feels like: quaint, brick by boring brick. It’s pretty lifeless when it comes to anything that would be described as remotely fun or exciting. Except for foxes. There’s a lot of foxes (which I might, or might not, have named). With the weather becoming more palatable, I decided it’s time to visit the local pub, The Great Eastern.