Restaurants are a bit like dating. You know as soon as you walk in the door whether it's all been a terrible mistake, but by then it's too late and you have to sit through the meal anyway.

The Ock Mill in Abingdon was the date from hell. From the moment we walked through the door it was an unmitigated disaster. Indeed, the only consolation that kept me going right to the bitter end, was that I could at least write about it, when most diners can't.

The only reason we went there in the first place was because the Ock Mill's PR company had been begging me to try it out. Big mistake. It might look good on paper, but my misgivings began as soon as I phoned up for directions -- it's opposite McDonalds and next to the Travelodge.

The building itself was the only inspiring part of the awful experience. What stunned me was how badly wrong the Out and Out company could get it.

So let's begin. We entered to find a large airy bar to the left and the restaurant to the right. There was also a big sign up by the door saying 'wait here to be seated in our restaurant', which we did for 10 minutes.

Eventually one of the bar staff wandered up and asked if we were OK. "We're waiting to sit down," we answered. "Do you want to eat in the bar or restaurant?" she asked. "They have different menus." We were confused. The bar eating area is downstairs and upstairs is the restaurant, apparently. So why had we waited?

She pointed to a tiny metallic sign on the wall, explaining that if we ate in the bar we had to do all the work by finding a table, noting the number, collecting the menus and then ordering ourselves. "Is the restaurant nice?" we asked hopefully, "Well, there's no one in there at the moment," she said vaguely, which, considering it was a Saturday lunch time spoke for itself.

So we walked around downstairs and realised that the only nice sunlit room was also the smoking room, so all the families, many of whom had babies, were having to share their space with groups of lads downing lager and smoking like chimneys while they crammed a bacon sarnie or two into their mouths.

The rest of the ground floor had the atmosphere of a conference meeting room. Immaculate, but totally soulless. It would be like having a dinner party in a library.

So we retreated to the sunny, smoky room and sat at the only available table which was covered in salt and obviously hadn't been wiped down since the last people ate there.

We chose two meals from the extensive kids menu (which came with a complimentary drink) the set menu for me and a speciality baguette with chips and salad for my other half. Once my partner returned from ordering at the bar, he mentioned that lunch cost more than expected. I checked the bill and noted we had been charged £3.70 for two kiddies drinks which were supposed to be complementary. James went back to the bar for a refund and on returning just looked at me and said "you can write whatever you want about this place, and they'll deserve it."

The manager had told him the complementary Coke mentioned on the menu actually referred to draught Coke which they didn't have. Some branches did but not Abingdon. Therefore, he'd given us bottled Coke and charged us for it, so no he wouldn't refund it. At this point, we would have normally have walked out -- but didn't.

The food was as bad as expected. The boys had chicken goujons (nuggets) with chips and beans. The beans were so old they'd dried out and cracked. The salad with the baguette was actually brown and jellied at the edges although the chicken fillet, bacon, cheddar and mayo filling was good. My pan fried pepper, spinach and aubergine with sour cream and chive sauce, baked in puff pastry and served with new potatoes, could never live up to its description.

A plate with mulched Mediterranean veg in a pastry case arrived with a cheese topping. Then on a huge separate plate came four bare new potatoes, and I had to ask for butter, which took about 20 minutes because there are never any staff around.

Once we had eaten, we sat waiting for our dessert, which had been pre-ordered. The manager walked past our table four times without clearing the plates. We had to go and ask at the bar eventually for our pudding and they still didn't clear our table.

Eventually the waffle with banana, ice cream and choc fudge sauce arrived, part of my 'two courses for £7.95 set menu', and we all gulped it down. It was delicious, but far too late to make amends. The bill cost £27.79.

And we weren't alone. We spent the meal watching endless people, as confused as us, wandering about the place trying to work out how the system worked, complaining about the food, drinks mix ups or just trying to work out where to start.

One couple sitting next to us looked at the menu, heard the muttering of dissent from the surrounding diners, finished their drinks and left.

As we drove off we spotted them walking back from the Esso garage up the road, mid-sandwich. They had the right idea, but when a service station sandwich is preferable to a restaurant, it says it all.

Ock Mill, Marcham Road, Abingdon. 01235 554148

KATHERINE MACALISTER