Restaurant trousers.

I don’t go out to ‘restaurants’ very much these days, I’m more at home with cafes after a good walk. There are some where I will go out of my way to visit, one being the local privately owned Garden Centre ( here ) where I can feed my plant addiction as well as my food addiction. One of my acid tests for a good eatery is the quality of the coffee, and Dundry coffee is second to none. More recently we went to a Cotswold pub which is these days a pub/restaurant. So a notch up or two from … Continue reading Restaurant trousers.

Dark chocolate and a baguette.

My mother gave me a fruitcake to give to the French. She’d arranged the trip for me with a friend who worked at the local girl’s grammar school. I was to be the only boy amongst thirty 16 year old schoolgirls going on a French exchange to Paris. Sounded reasonable to me, I might learn a thing or two. I did and it wasn’t all French. To put this in context I was a boarder at the local all boy’s grammar school. My contact with any girls at all was minimal. Our school did no such sort of exchange with … Continue reading Dark chocolate and a baguette.

“Drove like a bar of soap”

I suppose if one is used to driving a Porsche anything else might be a tad ordinaries, as the French would have it. I have a theory about holidays, they are there so that you can tell everyone chez vous , what a dreadful time you have had. Not disastrous but not great all the time which is what they are meant to be. So dreadful might be a little strong. “Eventful” sounds like you spent it going to non stop fairs and knees ups. Let’s give up on its description for a while. I used to be first rate … Continue reading “Drove like a bar of soap”