KFC — Restaurant in Wales

Finger licking gold!!!!!!!! Let me set the scene: I walked into the Holyhead KFC with the weariness of a man who’s seen too much—too many soggy chips, too many cold milkshakes, too many soulless fast-food encounters. But then… everything changed.

From the moment I approached the counter, I was greeted with a smile so warm, I briefly forgot I was in Wales and genuinely believed I had entered customer service Valhalla. The staff? Angels in baseball caps. The vibe? Immaculate. The speed? So fast I thought they’d summoned the food from another dimension.

Then came the Milkybar Buttons Krushems.

Dear reader, I need you to brace yourself. This wasn’t just a drink. It was a revelation. The first sip hit me like a gospel choir in my soul. Smooth, creamy, perfectly chilled—like a vanilla snowstorm colliding with a chocolate meteorite of joy. And those buttons? Oh. My. Life. Tiny discs of happiness that swirled through the shake like edible gold coins tossed by a dairy god. I didn’t drink it. I ascended it.

I stared at the cup when it was finished. Empty. Hollow. Like my heart after a great love leaves. I considered ordering seven more. I considered proposing to the machine that made it. I considered tattooing “Krushems 4 Life” on my bicep.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get better—the lovely staff checked if everything was alright. ALRIGHT? I nearly wept. Someone cared. In a world full of chaos, war, taxes, and potholes, someone at KFC Holyhead wanted to make sure my Krushems was up to scratch. It wasn’t just up to scratch—it scratched the very fabric of the universe.

To the team at Holyhead: you are heroes. Unsung, glorious, dairy-slinging heroes. If I had a medal, I’d give it to you. If I had a crown, I’d knight every single one of you in the car park. The service was so good, I’m convinced someone back there had a PhD in Kindness and a Master’s degree in Timing.

Final thoughts: If you’re ever in Holyhead and you don’t go to this KFC and order a Milkybar Buttons Krushems, then I’m sorry, but we can’t be friends. That’s just the way it is. Go. Now. You deserve it. We all do.

Long live Krushems. Long live Holyhead KFC. Long live whoever made that drink.

💥10/10 would drink again. And again....

Let me tell you about my latest trip to KFC—a journey that not only satisfied my hunger but also introduced me to the legend that is Ashley, the assistant manager. If fried chicken had a spirit guide, it would be Ashley.

From the moment I walked in, Ashley radiated an energy that could only be described as chicken-charged enthusiasm. He was everywhere at once, making sure orders were flying out faster than a Zinger burger in a lunchtime rush. You know that rare mix of efficiency and friendliness that makes you feel like family? That’s Ashley’s vibe.

The food? Spot on. The chicken was crispy perfection, the fries were hot and golden, and the gravy? Let’s just say I’d happily take a bath in it if Ashley assured me it was safe. (He probably could; He seems to know everything!)

But what really made the experience was her next-level customer care. When I couldn’t decide between popcorn chicken or a mighty bucket for one, Ashley gave me a look of pure wisdom and said, “Why choose when you deserve both?” He was right, of course. Ashley doesn’t just serve chicken; she serves life advice wrapped in a crispy coating.

He ran the restaurant like a pro, all while making you feel like you were the most important customer in the building. Someone spilled a drink? Ashley was there with a mop and a reassuring smile before you could say, “extra napkins.” A toddler having a meltdown? Boom—Ashley appeared with a mini bucket and saved the day like the fried chicken superhero she is.

In short, KFC has Ashley to thank for making every bite taste better. If there’s ever a Colonel Sanders 2.0, I know who’s getting my vote. Bravo, Ashley—you’re the real MVP of the...

I recently strutted into KFC with a craving so fierce it could only be tamed by a bucket of their golden, crispy magic. Little did I know, I was about to experience not just a meal but a culinary journey led by none other than the maestro himself—Manager Callum Parry.

First off, the chicken? Absolute perfection. It’s like each piece was personally serenaded by angels before being fried to crispy, golden excellence. The fries were crisp, the gravy could easily replace my morning coffee, and the coleslaw? A creamy dream in a little pot.

But what really stole the show was Callum. Picture this: a man so composed yet so enthusiastic, he made taking a chicken order feel like an experience worthy of a standing ovation. He had a smile that said, “I care deeply about your bucket needs,” and customer service skills sharper than a drumstick’s curve.

When I hesitated between hot wings or a Zinger burger, Callum swooped in with the wisdom of a fried chicken sage. “Why not both?” he suggested with the confidence of someone who truly gets it. And he was right—both was the answer to happiness.

The restaurant was spotless, orders were flying out with military precision, and Callum managed his team like a conductor leading a deep-fried orchestra. Honestly, if this man isn’t already employee of the month, KFC needs to rethink their award system.

To sum it up, Callum and his KFC crew didn’t just deliver chicken—they delivered joy, laughter, and a moment of greasy bliss. I’ll be back, Callum, and next time I’m bringing a fan...