If you want to watch paint dry, with two old fellas at the bar putting the world to rights, while all the time the barmaid provides a coughing soundtrack, then this is the pub for you.

Perched on the edge of a roundabout guaranteed to snarl up traffic, the Echo in Gravesend is a proper corner pub and the smell of fresh paint hits you like a wave the second you step inside the door.

Barmaid Sandra, sounding a bit like 1970s funnyman Arthur Mullard, managed to stop coughing just long enough to ask what I’d like to drink.

I would have had a pint of Gales’ 3.6% Seafarers but, between spluttering bouts, Sandra explained it was off as there’d been a run on it recently. Instead, I reluctantly opted for the Fosters of the ale world, settling for a pint of Doom Bar, with an accompanying pack of salt and vinegar crisps.

The Tayto crisps cost a slightly hefty £1.50 but were still a darned sight better value than the £4.60 I shelled out for a dull-as-dishwater Sharp’s Doom Bar – this was not a good example of this, at best, very average beer.

Still coughing her guts up, Sandra begged one of the two old boys on stools at the bar to pop out and buy her a packet of Lockets. One finally gave in to the badgering and weaved his way through the traffic to collect the cough sweets.

No sooner was he through the door and Sandra shot out the back to light up.

Back at the bar, the dutiful local who, as he left, observed ‘If she keels over there’ll be no-one else left to serve’, had decided to dole out the lozenges one at a time, on the proviso there were no more fag breaks.

I can’t overstate the new paint smell strongly enough and I must say I have seldom experienced a better decorated pub. The Echo is incredibly well maintained with absolutely everything in the right place, spotlessly clean and organised, almost to the point of obsession – can somewhere be too clean?

The chairs, for example, looked at if they’d been colour-coded and then placed exactly the right distance from the tables using a ruler!

There are some great touches, I liked the tables made from large old barrels and there is an astonishing number of whiskies available, all set out on shelves above the bar.

But, the pristine nature of the place, and the outside area is equally neat and tidy, makes it feel a bit clinical and detached – apart, that is, from the coughing.

Like everywhere else I’ve been recently there was snooker on the big screens playing silently to absolutely no-one, so I spent a little time gazing at the well-hoovered optical illusion carpet but when it sent my eyes funny I wandered outside instead.

The area at the back of the pub is deceptively large and was just as well maintained as everywhere inside. Care of the facilities is taken so seriously there’s a log on the wall with a green marker pen and hourly slots to be ticked off. Pine-smelling green disinfectant is also added to the urinals on the same hourly basis.

Sandra was wearing synthetic rubber gloves to serve but they were fingerless which meant she didn’t need to take them off when popping out for a fag.

They guys perched at the bar had shifted their conversation from talking all things West Ham to stories about what various friends had experienced during trips to Thailand before somehow discovering a link to discuss their dismay at the way genders are divided on the wards of NHS hospitals – but, when this inevitably led to their own list of ailments I decided it was time to leave the medical round-up and the smell of paint behind.

I’m sure the well-presented and extremely tidy Echo is popular with a number of Gravesend punters looking for a pint in plush surroundings but personally I’d rather search out a little more character, even if it means going somewhere more rough and ready.

ECHO, 24 OLD ROAD EAST, GRAVESEND DA12 1NR

Decor: Absolutely spotless, everything is pristine in the extreme, but what it gains in cleanliness, it loses in character. I’m not saying pubs need to be dirty, but they do at least need to feel lived in. ***

Drink: Described as the Fosters of the ale world, Doom Bar was the only ale available but unfortunately this wasn’t even a very good example of this very average beer. I shifted to the Kronenbourg, which was okay, but it was a shame the Seafarer wasn’t on offer. *

Price: The dodgy Doom Bar was £4.60, while a pint of Kronenbourg was an equivalent sum over a fiver at £5.40. The Tayto crisps were £1.50 a packet. ***

Staff: When she didn’t sound as if she was about to expire Sandra was efficient and helpful. The locals seemed keen to ensure she stayed healthy enough to continue serving! ***

Catch up on all Secret Drinker's Kent pub reviews here

Click here to follow Secret Drinker on Twitter

Want more Secret Drinker? Sign up here for his monthly newsletter