All things in moderation can be dull.

THE general election will be decided by Motorway Man, we are told. The sort of guy, or woman, who spends a lot of time in their car, ploughing up and down motorway network in pursuit of their living.

The psephologists tell us that Motorway Man is pretty average in most respects, with no strong political allegiances, the archetypal floating voter in other words. But, obviously, his car is very important to him.

Motorway Man would like The Ship Inn at Low Worsall, near Yarm. Not only is it a short distance from A19, it has CCTV with cameras trained on the car park so a pint can be supped and meal eaten while keeping an eye on the highly cherished Mondeo or A4. Very reassuring.

The Ship is generally reassuring in an average sort of way.

Its principal exterior feature is the whopping car park – enough for 50 Mondeos or more. The pub itself, although clearly very old in part, has been much extended over the years and it is now rather amorphous looking.

It has also had a hard winter, but haven’t we all.

Inside, there is a large bar (where you can also eat) and a slightly more formal dining area. Although we are not sure who owns The Ship now, it has clearly at some point been given an overhaul by a pub company. An identikit character pub interior is livened up by some mildly diverting nautical memorabilia.

We hoped a framed newspaper cutting recording the sinking of the Titanic was not an omen.

We opted for the dining area and a pleasant-enough waitress served us drinks and brought us menus.

Blackboards announced there was a specials blackboard above the bar but this turned out not to be the case, so we settled for the bound and laminated standard selection which was decidedly average despite the starters being followed by the Captain’s Table (at The Ship Inn.

Geddit?).

However, Sylvia thought her potato and spring onion soup (£3.95) better than average.

Thick and creamy, the constituent flavours were clearly identifiable. She thought it was home-made as the menu promised. It was also hot and served with a fresh roll and butter (diddly packet stuff – tut, tut).

My pate (£5.95) may have been home-made but was utterly lacking in any discernible character bar being very smooth. It was bog standard chicken liver pate, accompanied by crispy melba toast and identikit salad garnish (one sprig of lettuce, one slice of tomato, one sliver of pepper etc). The tomato chutney was, however, very chunkily spicy and the pate’s salvation.

My main course fish pie’s main virtue was its size. It would easily have fed two for £9.95. Large chunks of cod and salmon and lots of rather miniscule prawns (shrimps might have been a better description) swam in a well seasoned but thin-ish sauce. It was topped by a inch of mashed potato with a grilled cheese-y top. What it lacked in finesse, it made up for in seadog heartiness.

Sylvia’s chicken breast stuffed with mozzarella and spinach and served with a tomato and basil sauce (£13.95) was, she declared, absolutely fine but she also noted the previous week a not dissimilar dish on the menu at Wynyard Hall for just couple of pounds more.

Either the Wynyard dish was an absolute steal or this was overpriced.

The side dish of vegetables served with the main courses was large but again lacking in much flavour or finesse, a status not disguised by the glaze. The carrots were just soggy.

We had a cursory glance at the dessert menu purely in the interests of research. For £4.25 we could have had Wagon Wheel cheesecake, steamed chocolate pudding, rhubarb crumble, brandysnap basket or sticky toffee pudding. All of them might have been tempting in the depths of winter, but not on a balmy Spring evening.

Our bill was £39.80, which included a small glass of Pinot Grigio and two diet Cokes.

Moderate value we thought for a meal which was by no means bad, but never really hit the heights.

Moderation may be what Motorway Man is seeking and the Ship certainly provides that. We, however, remain floating voters.