ASCOT RACECOURSE

HOSPITALITY ON 5 RESTAURANT

ASCOT (obviously) BERKSHIRE

We actually stopped going here as over the past couple of years the prices have got really bloody ridiculous as we are now quoted anything from £300 to £500 plus VAT and as far as we are concerned that’s not an option as we could go to any Michelin star restaurant in the evening and watch all the racing from the comfort of my sofa. Ascot On 5 is the best kitted out of all the racecourses with the best viewing balconies going, but boy o boy it’s got its head so far up its own rear end that when you’ve’ blown north of £600 on ok boil in the bag beef and a few drinks the only thing you can do is laugh at yourself and thinking oh well for this discounted price it’s going to be ok, round objects to that then.

On arrival the stand is very impressive and the largest of all the courses that I know of with the restaurant being on the 5th floor track side, while the parade ring side has another lower priced restaurant still way over its worth but with no view of the track so you have to cross to the other side of the stand where there is a seating area for those restaurant goers.

Grandstand and parade ring

The restaurant itself is set out really well and actually split into two parts by a very nice bar and seating area which every time we’ve been hasn’t really been used. The ceiling to floor glass facing the racecourse is very good as are the viewing areas outside and being this high up and the course being flat you can actually see the entire race with a pair of binoculars. We were shown to a table which had a kind of curved banquet which followed round to the next table for two where there was a bloke about my age and his Eastern European trophy wife with a full compliment of enhanced fillers, cheek implants made her look like a Chipmunk, a pair of size 5 footballs which could grace Wembley Stadium attached to her chest and a pair of bum implants which made me wonder how she stayed on the seat because if your arse is shaped like an egg and can be used to place a cup and saucer down on how the hell do you stay upright. Anyway they were actually really nice and he was bit of a laugh and she wanted to know who coloured the blonds barnet but unfortunately as she is a natural blond it’s only slightly enhanced unlike the rest of her which is still god given and natural.

Bar area

Menus, food and drinks.

So onto the food offerings before a brief summary of the days racing and the usual accumulated losses which to be honest was not the case this time. After being seated the usual complimentary glass of champagne was served while you get a chance to look at the menus and at this point it’s always good to be at least an hour early to get your orders in and to make sure that you get the food between races and not during, this also give you time to choose any advanced bets like a placepot or any doubles or trebles you fancy throughout the day. For the non interested (which is an awful lot) you can purchase for £10 a lucky pick wallet with a selection of these bets and just get pissed without having to think and I can tell you that after studying form the going the jockey, trainers in form etc you might just as well go for a lucky dip but where’s the fun in that.

As for drinks we really fancied the R de Ruinart NV and the young waitress appeared with a basic Ruinart, not her fault as she was clueless to the difference so off she went to look for the correct one and in return we got the muppet manageress telling us that it’s Ruinart. I know that but it’s not the one on the list leaving me thinking oh fuck I’ve got to explain what the difference is and wasting my time as it turns out this is the only one they have and they don’t sell the one on the list to which I couldn’t believe no one else had actually not noticed, so that apparently is now being changed for the next meeting as if I gave a toss, so we had the basic. For a red I went for the Rioja which I had not heard of, it was ok and what I’d expect from a fairly basic Rioja. The wine list has certainly been reduced in number and quality in the past two years which is a shame as many people here have the money to spend on whatever. The blond kicked off with the sweet potato hash cake which I polished off and it was quite a nice spicy dish and fairly large where as mine being the duck ham could have been anything as it was sliced thinner than tracing paper as one duck could have been an alternative to Jesus Christ and feeding the 5,000 as even in those days I just know there’s going to be the usual allergy crowd who can’t eat bread, fish or any of the other food groups as long as you don’t tell them what their eating, but this would have left an ant thinking so this is what cat walk models consume. Two water bathed beefs followed, easy to tell because of the flabby texture but they were fine and no complaints about the accompanying sides. Before these dishes appeared I had to go to place a bet as there was a lack of Tote people to take bets at the table, the blond had gone to the loo and we returned to two plates of food sitting there which were cold, no we hadn’t asked for them or been asked if or when we wanted them and to top it all they weren’t ours but belonged to the couple on the next table. You can’t blame the kids who serve as I doubt there taught or told before hand so the blame goes to the muppet managing them. Got asked about desert which we didn’t want so cheese it was or so we thought. The muppet had to inform us that none was actually available as they had the total sum of bugger all, bit like the champagne then but at the same time saved us an extra £25.00. Not impressed as this place reckons they are the best, bollocks they are, and like I said most people here by this time couldn’t even make it to the lav without bouncing off the walls so had no idea what they were eating or even doing here.

Duck ham a calorie counters delight

Sweet potato cake

Boil in the bag roast beef

The horse racing ( it’s why we’re here surprisingly)

This was the final jump meeting of the year before the flat season starts so the fields were actually pretty good with plenty of runners and some class runners so straight into picking my six winners or placed horses for a princely sum of £2.00 outlay for a chance to share or win the £50,000 jackpot. By the fourth race things were looking up as I had three straight winners but the dream died when Stracken ridden by Sam Twiston Davis was hampered by a faller at the first bloody fence and never got into it after that. The following two races I had good form horses who had obviously got into the horse box in the morning took one look at the weather and thought sod running round that it’s muddy and regardless of how good the jockey is if half a ton of animal downs tools there’s sod all anyone can do about it. One other thing Ascot does is print a photo of the jockey in the program which is a nice touch and I guess some people think oh that one looks nice I’ll put a few quid on that then, and as I said probably as much chance of winning as us who study the form.

The racing was good and some were very close races and I did come out with a few winners and places which worked out quite well as it actually paid for the day. Betting like this isn’t going to change my life but then again we don’t actually bet an awful lot because it would make me cry if I lost a bunch of notes so it’s all done for fun and once I’ve lost my limit that’s the end of it game over. So next racing for us is back to Sandown which is still by far the best food and value for money in the country, plus the actual punters are a lot more interesting and down to earth than this lot are.

View from the balcony between races. It looks quiet but most people retire to the bars between races.

All having a chat about a mile away from us before the race starts, always wonder what they chat about.

THE RED LION

PEPPARD COMMON

HENLEY-ON -THAMES

£117.00 3 course lunch for 2, 2bottles sparkling water inc 12.5% service charge

Sunday Lunch £85.95, main course for 2, 1 glass Malbec, 1 bottle Sparkling, bread and 2 sides.

We have driven past this place many times and it has always looked closed as many pubs are in rural areas of the UK but this time we were looking for somewhere to have a lunch and it popped up on the blonds phone. The menu looked good so being ten minutes drive away thought why not even though the building is very unassuming and uninteresting. As it says on the front it was built in 1794 but just looks a bit Eadwardian to me so I thought look it up to see if I could find any old photos of how it was originally but no luck, so I guess it’s been uninteresting as a building from day one.

Not the nicest looking building, plus the flat roof must be a modern addition to the side.

Not a lot is known about it but they think a kind of hostelry has always been here since the Middle Ages so anywhere between 1066 and 1485 and later this area was known as Pack and Prime lane used by smugglers for tax free spirits and highwaymen ( pack the mules and prime the pistols)’and nearby here is a place called Gallowstree Road and common which was an obvious last stop for a few of these characters but now it’s just a quite village.

On entering again I’m not sure if anything is original as the beams in the ceiling looked a bit too manufactured to be old and the floorboards may be original but who knows. It’s not really a pub but a gastro pub as there just isn’t enough trade to survive on just beer and because of its situation the place is full of loud braying UDH’s (upper class dickheads) who for some reason bellow when they speak thinking all and sundry are interested in whatever they say, and this whole area is just full of these private school, banking lawyer types all dressed in tweed and brogues maybe it’s a mental thing after getting rogered at boarding school and that really would have screwed me up for want of a better word. So ignoring the room full of Boris Johnson impersonators I attempted to concentrate on the menu which was very appealing.

Must admit that there was so much I wanted to eat and from the Lunch menu the steak sandwich looked good but no with my levels of gluttony I wanted a proper job, so for starters it had to be the Barón Bigod Croquette. It was the size of a tennis ball crunchy outside and a great runny cheese on the inside making the extra plate of sourdough a must. The blond had the Oxfordshire Game Terrine, now even though most dwellers in rural South Oxon probably shoot or hunt most things that move I always wonder if the said game comes from the county that your in but not being that anally retentive I couldn’t give a monkeys but somewhere out there theirs a self righteous dick who one day will spend half their lives proving a pointless point because it’s trades description act or whatever. Anyway the Terrine was excellent and from the various different layerings of game it was obviously home made as was mine. My main course was the Pork Chop and was twice the size I was expecting and perfectly charred from a flame grill and the Sage Sauce was very good which I just dipped cut off chunks of pork in, everything else was good but I would like the crackling to be roasted and not fried like a pork scratching but that’s personal taste. I nearly wet myself when the blond asked for the Hake. Unheard of as being so fussy with not eating buggered fish and not knowing if the kitchen can do fish I thought that’s going back. How wrong was I it was perfectly done soft and still glistening, the actual Bhaji was fabulous and had a real bite to it and the heat was perfect, the Lime Curry Veloute was a great sauce and didn’t overpower the fish.

Not the most interesting decor

Neither of us are dessert types but what else is there to do on a grey drizzling day but consume more calories than is advisable under current nanny state mumblings. The sticky toffee pudding was a very light sponge swimming in a caramel sauce and topped with a vanilla ice cream so very traditional. The other was a cheesecake also light and airy with a great crunchy ginger base so overall we thought were coming back but saw that they did a Sunday roast menu so being a Thursday we booked for the Sunday at 2.30pm

p

A Sunday is obviously busier and we got seated in the same area and being later which is advisable to book as you’ve still got the loud Boris impersonators but also included and allowed out at the weekend is the horsey type neighing little woman indoors with the blond bob, pearls and tuned up collar along with the two point two unruly brats inevitably called Rupert, Tarquin or Arabella or Angelica not forgetting the half a Labrador under the table which makes conversation between you fairly difficult, but by this time their usually finishing deserts and sodding off.
For us the obvious choice was slow roasted shoulder of lamb which came with roasted carrots, parsnip an enormous Yorkshire pudding each and individual gravy boats, also ordered be a use of being pigs we had a cauliflower cheese and paeans with lardons. All was fantastic the Lamb fell off the bone and was so succulent, lobead all the roast veg and potatoes which was ll served on a large wooden board so serve yourself. No way were either of us going to have a desert as we started with sourdough bread with a butter mixed with chicken jus which is just amazing and I don’t use butter.

Sunday menu choices.

The place was bought by a wine merchant family called Laithwaites who have actually kept it kind of rustic with the tables and chairs and I guess it adds character and as long as they keep dishing up food like this we will keep coming back regardless of the other diners though I guess they probably think who let the peasants in.

PADAM RESTAURANT

1 BRIDGE STREET

MAIDENHEAD, BERKSHIRE.

Cost, No idea as I didn’t pay thank god.

This is a really weird one to write up in that it’s one of biggest mixed bags that we’ve come across, from the sublime to the ridiculous. Never in a million years would anything ever appear on our radar in Maidenhead which is nothing but a commuter train station to London and is situated right by the M4 into London and it’s one of those places that’s full of wealth around it but nothing is ever spent in it. I’ve read it’s under going a resurgence and the only time I’ve been in it was back in the early 70’s when I played football at the football stadium which doesn’t look like it’s changed since as I see it from the train most weeks going to QPR, as for the town centre I guess it’s as is as well.

So we were invited to try this place by a young couple we know who own a small Greek restaurant near us and as we always have a laugh with them and thought why not. Ok so I was two bottles of red beyond common sense when this came up and was convinced it was an Albanian place seeing as one of the couple is half Albanian, so after the stereo type remarks of it probably being used for washing the cash from the cocaine, people trafficking market we were told it’s booked for a Wednesday night. It’s actually a Mediterranean place owned by an Albanian who’s got vineyards and is something in the Albanian FA (so a bit dodgy then) plus the head chef is Albanian as well so we had no idea what to expect.

It was pitch dark when we arrived and from the outside it looked quite classy even though the name being up in lights so to say was incredibly bright and seeing as Maidenhead is only 14 miles from Heathrow and on the flight path one day some dodgy third world pilot is going to mistake this for the runway lights.

No way are you going to miss this place

Not sure how long it’s been open but the dodgy Trip Advisor site seems to start reports around October last year and we got the vibe that it was called something else under a possible different ownership but could be wrong on that. The decor on first glance looks interesting but once your seated and taking it all in it’s a bit like a blingy low level drug dealers den or an over decorated airport / hotel lounge stuck in the 90’s. Neither of us could be sure of the couple of blokes sat around a laptop a few tables up from us who weren’t actually eating or drinking and spent the evening whispering to each other either about the accounts or eyeing up the latest on porn hub.com but lots of nodding was going on. The couple we knew told us they’d phoned ahead and that the head chef would be coming out as we weren’t choosing from the menu as he was knocking us up a special. Wine was ordered and it was an Albanian Tempranillo called Duka, it’s a new one on me and yes it was very enjoyable and would be very happy to drink it again. took a snapshot of the so called elite wine list and a few alarm bells started ringing.

So having a quick study of the wine list kind of tells you the calibre of a place and this is at the top of the fur coat no knickers brigade or more politely a posers paradise as it would be nice to know what the vintages are and you have to be seriously into wine to know that the Vega Sicilia 08,10,11 is a blend of vintages released in 2022 retailing from around £460.00. The Chambertin retails for around the same as the Spanish but with Burgundy the vintage is seriously important to know and as for Opus One 2022 retails for £155 but then again what year is it and which one ?. The chef came out in a heavily patterned chefs jacket and a flat cap, ok so it’s different. Nice guy had a chat with us yes we like fish and yes we like pasta so that’s what we’re getting as he disappeared off to the kitchen and apart from us four and the three blokes watching a dodgy video on a laptop the place was empty though three women and a very loud look at me bloke arrived taking centre stage and acting a prat became a lot quieter when we didn’t take any notice of him but sorry your a wanker.

No idea who she is.

When a place is this empty at 8.30 wouldn’t you question why ?

What came out as starters was a selection of dishes starting with mussels which were fine but the sauce, oh my god, it was broken bits of feta cheese but swimming in a pint of cream and what can only be described as an overkill of garlic which was so overwhelming that this sauce could be bottled as a cheap birth control method and if we ate it would be sleeping in different neighbourhoods let alone separate rooms. Next came some fried breadcrumbed balls which looked a bit like Arancini ( it is a Mediterranean restaurant, is it ?) but were a large fried ball stuffed with a cheese substance topped with what can only be strawberry jam this was followed by a salad of a couple of pieces of overcooked Monkfish masquerading or doing a perfect impersonation of cotton wool, bizarrely under it was raw shredded cabbage in a pool of strawberry juice. What is it with fucking strawberry’s with fish and cheese for gods sake is it traditional Albanian ?, whatever it’s just not right. The next surprise was a small scallop dish and these were obviously from frozen, tasteless and a very strange texture with a little fizz to them, best left alone or spend the night in the bog. What they came in was a kind of weird green puréed mashed stuff but I’m not sure what it was apart from being foreign or alien.

The wine was good and even though the food sucked we were having a good laugh over the food and even they said it’s different tonight and that must be the understatement of the week. Main course looked fantastic a whole lobster on a bed of spaghetti. Now the spag was good and the juice accompanying it was excellent but a little on the cold side probably due to the fact that the lobster had been boiled longer than before the previous ice age. That weirdo Trip Advisor site was singing this places praises for god knows whatever reason written by people who must eat all of Tescos processed frozen food because this is really bad.

9.30pm still empty

So meal finished and mister loud dickhead had started kicking off again but he was pissed and I guess this is the normal punter that turns up here loud and tasteless or you have no idea of food, don’t cook anything and probably enjoy a McDonalds. Surprisingly the wine I would actually buy and the restaurant price was £37.00 which was very very good and you can’t go wrong at that price so a bargain. Would I go back ?, no not in a million years but waiting that long at least the lobster will be well buggerd and the next time I see this place and be anywhere near it will be from the aircraft window seat as we approach Heathrow from the west.

The highlight of the evening

THE BULL RESTAURANT /PUB/WITH ROOMS

CHARLBURY,

SHEEP STREET, CHIPPINNG NORTON, OXFORDSHIRE

Charlbury is just one of those places I’ve heard about sitting on the edge of the Cotswolds which makes it a London dwellers weekend retreat but why you would visit here ?, I really have no idea unless your going to eat at the Bull as there really isn’t an awful lot of interesting stuff in the place. As for its history that again is pretty standard for England and is the usual old Anglo Saxon settlement where no one actually knows where the name came from except for the bury bit which means it was a burh being a Saxon fortified place and the first bit of the name has a few different options but no one’s the wiser as to where the Charl bit came from. Also the Bull being in Sheep Street is a very common name for a street in the Cotswolds as sheep outnumbered humans for many a Millenium in this area and I can verify that talking to a local is no different from talking to the livestock you just won’t understand a bloody word, and as the blonds lot come from here and have the name Dyer from colouring wool in the dark ages i know what I’m talking about.

The thing that bought us to this eatery was a review from Giles Cohren in the Times. Now I like this guys columns and always find them interesting and to go with it he’s a QPR supporter so top bloke all round. The problem is that the last time we tried one of his Cotswold places (he has a weekend retreat from town near here) it was pants but his sounded so good we went. Not a long drive somewhere around 70 mins just the other side of Woodstock so not far from Oxford and lots of back roads to avoid Sunday drivers.

Charlbury about as exciting as watching paint dry

As per usual I missed the turning to the car park which on a second pass was about the size of a single bed sheet so absolutely bloody useless, not something Giles mentioned. The place was on a cross roads but as the norm for the UK every dam road was double yellowed meaning no parking and where there wasn’t double yellows it was residents only as the place hasn’t changed since everyone travelled by horse and cart. We saw no sign for a public car park but as I said there’s sod all of interest here so why would there be and I couldn’t be bothered finding out. Also it’s January and pissing with rain which means the blonds hair was going to actually look like a wet sheep if I parked too far away as if I had a choice. Luckily the Mini is small meaning I managed to park where one of the Chelsea four wheel drive tractors couldn’t, fitting snugly between the obligatory Range Rover from said London Borough and a bus stop where I had a spare 4cm and my rear wheels didn’t touch the boxed lines for the bus stop saving me a parking ticket for infringing the bus stop even if the things don’t run on a Sunday and I guarantee some uniformed council bozo will be out enforcing said laws, I just love this country. My bonus points were enhanced by having an umbrella in the car and only being about 400 meters from the pub unfortunately I couldn’t do anything about the howling North Easterly blowing freezing rain in our faces wrecking the brolly and turning the blond into a fuzz ball, so not my fault this time. The rain stopped as we reached the place adorned with one way and no entry signs and numerous SV signs left me thinking how many sluice valves or stop valves can one place have. I did mention Charlbury has very little of interest in it.

Pretty unassuming for a Cotswold pub

Inside it’s what you expect low ceilings, beams, wood floors and dark. The actual bar area is quiet small so it’s more of a restaurant than a local pub but if it was there’s no way it would survive. Loads of real ales chalked up on a board and also a selection of non alcoholic cocktails along with a 0.5% lager called Lucky Saint and I had one of these as I was driving and to be honest it’s one of the best I’ve had. We managed to sit on a couple of stools while drinking waiting for our table as they were running a bit late but it was comfortable and the open wood fires were burning well. You have to enjoy these while you can as it seems were going to ban people from doing this as it’s not green enough so it’s better to freeze to death and be environmentally friendly, funnily enough nobody here seemed to be concerned that they were sitting here shortening their lives by two minutes.

Tables are close together which isn’t a problem and you can listen into everyone’s conversation and not one local was anywhere near us, on top of that the younger couple next to us went through the entire meal without speaking to each other but were engrossed into whatever was on their phone screens. This bloke spent hours literally scrolling through a contact list which had more people on it than I’ve ever seen at a cup final at Wembley Stadium or have ever encountered in 67 years of life, no idea which one of us is the sadder individual but left me thinking what a bugger that must be if you send Christmas or birthday cards as you’ll be so broke lashing out for postage on that lot.

Onto the food, menus looked interesting. Helen wanted the chicken liver and pickles which sounded good but what actually appeared was a parfait about the size of a tenis ball and a few bits of lightly pickled radish. Must admit the parfait was very good but very very rich and half that amount and a few more pickles to cut through it would have been a better balance. I went for the raw beef and mustard which was thinly sliced beef which was melt in the mouth but the mustard stuff was a kind of hollandaise with the merest hint of mustard autistically poured over the beef like people used to do with that awful sweet balsamic in the 90’s. We waited and waited all in all 90 minutes for our mains which by then I’d started to lose the will to live, but it’s busy we thought and it’s obvious the kitchen can’t really cope but then it’s probably one of the days they only make a profit worth talking about. Helen had pork shoulder and me the beef rump, both were fine and good quality but actually stolen bloody cold so when asked if alls ok we said it’s cold. Honestly it’s perfectly cooked so do I want to wait another god knows how long to warm up my beef which will then be over done. No I’ll eat it. Veg was weird as the Brussel Sprouts with Winchester cheese was cold as in chilled but after asking it was supposed to be, really, weird, in that as why do you want a cold side dish with what’s supposed to be hot meat and then not say on the menu it’s a cold dish ?, mushrooms and artichokes were as expected.

By now we’ve been here 3 hours and the would you like desert was a no go. The staff are lovely but the whole place lacks any direction whatsoever and even though you all get served eventually it’s all a bit rabbit in the headlights and headless chickens running around. Needless to say the blonds blood was up and the do you have manager was the question, a few others mentioned they would like a word but they all left it to my Rottweiler who got a 50% discount without asking and leaving the other tables to build up the courage to ask but that’s not our problem, we didn’t ask for it and said we did eat it but pointed out what was wrong as yes I like a casual lunch but 190 minutes for 2 courses and cold meat was just a little bit to relaxed. So thank you to the manageress who made an appearance to talk to us offered us the discount then quickly disappeared before catching anyone else’s eye. Sorry Giles but your next Cotswold recommendation in the Times will be read and ignored.

Through bar to eating area.

GREAT WESTERN RAILWAYS

Three days into 2024 and Life’s a Pain has a major factor 9 pain in the arse and what a great start this has been to the new year. Being an old fart and always looking for ways to make life easier I stupidly decided to go for what Great Western call a smart card seeing as I travel by train to London Paddington twenty three times a year to watch a shower of shit called Queens Park Rangers as if life was depressing enough already and seeing this I thought great, no longer will I have to queue for a ticket or try desperately as I have done three times already with collecting a ticket bought in advance using my phone as the bloody machine at the station has never read my credit card details so refuses to acknowledge my purchase and I end up queueing at a ticket booth which these suited management bozos want to get rid of. All well and good but could someone just possibly sort the machines out because I get the same reply that phones are not yet recognised on said readers which really makes bloody sense to get rid of manned ticket kiosks.

So for a match I was travelling to on the ninth of December I applied on line as you do because there’s no other sodding option for a GWR smart card. I should have guessed this was not a working light bulb moment as I couldn’t actually progress past the final form as it refused to recognise something or other. Now what ever you may think I’m not actually that stupid as I had filled everything in correctly in the four attempts previously and yes I know my name, age, where I live, my phone number and credit card details and yes I checked and checked again and everything was actually in the correct place and yes my brain, eye balls, fingers and all other bodily functions had actually performed as per normal that morning so no brain farts on my part. The blond in her infinite wisdom didn’t believe this so filled it all in twice more before giving up and watching me do a lap of honour around the room proving that I was right for once. Unfortunately even though the transaction for the cost of a £1 x2 didn’t actually go through they somehow took £2 off me and sent me two smart cards in my name, so I guess something worked even though it said I’m sorry this function is unavailable. One minor problem was if I bought a ticket on this smart card would it include my old codgers rail discount. For anyone who reads this I’ll save you the time and effort it does, but, this is on page 32 paragraph 8 subsection 4 so don’t bother spending an hour looking for it because I’ve saved you the stress of this piece of bullshit in the small print.

December 9th walking to the station I purchased said ticket to Paddington return including my tube to the Bush and as my bank card was linked to the smart card I thought that’s it done all I have to do is tap the card on the reader and I’m off. Was I fuck. Tapping in at the gate all I got was error seek assistance which usually is a joke as the rail company don’t seem to actually employ anyone at the stations anymore but I was lucky as two employees were having a laugh on the other side of the gate. Excuse me this is the first time I’ve used it and it says error seek assistance ?. The nice couple of blokes said try again, no luck, turn it over and try again, no luck. Bloke took my card stuck it on some kind of mobile reader in his pocket and said well it’s valid, well it ain’t exactly working is it at which point they said come through. Have I been charged three times by tapping or what ?, they said no so off I waddled to platform 10. On arriving at Paddington platform 1 for some reason it doesn’t have a gate so nowhere to tap out ending part one of my journey. This caused a bit of consternation as I knew I’d be charged for the full journey as the train originated from Cornwall, found a female employee who confirmed it’s a gateless platform, that didn’t really help so I asked can you let me through this gate and I can tap out which she did. Error seek assistance, bloody hell what a surprise. Showed purchase of ticket, she checked it and then said you need to load the ticket onto the card when you return. Holy shit where did that come from isn’t it automatically charged to my credit card ?, honestly it doesn’t say that anywhere it’s just called pay as you go.
So I had six stops on the tube to get this ticket loaded, the instructions were simple just hold the card next to your phone to load, nope that kept failing and then I thought point the camera at it and then eureka it eventually worked telling me it’s loaded.

Return journey after a 2-0 victory over Hull City feeling good and the card worked at Paddington so sat on the train feeling pretty smug for the 23 minutes to Reading. Off the train to the gates guess what the bloody thing came up error, seek assistance. Showed staff my purchase and they let me through even if they said ok just this once, really !!!, but I’ve paid for a ticket. So all sorted tapped in and out everywhere but yesterday morning I got this.

This was followed by this

Ok so according to them I tapped in and started the day on the 17.48 to Reading, obviously the tap in worked at Paddington but not the one where I got off at Reading after being helped by staff so if I don’t complete this journey I will be charged for the termination at Taunton some £45 extra, why I would be going to the West Country when they have my address and details showing I live in Reading ?, why would I travel to the land of fields cows, sheep and inbred Morris dancing oddballs ?. Further down I could log in to my account where this could all be sorted, after twenty minutes of farting around there is actually nothing that I could do to rectify this saying that I travelled from Reading to London and back so it was the dreaded contact us. Oh Christ I know where this is going.

Impossible to speak to anyone it’s all email. So filled out all my details travel times downloaded tickets etc then got to the select one of these pages which went to another page and then another where you pick a category but yours doesn’t really exist and onto a sub category which is even less bloody helpful and I was so tempted to press feedback or make a suggestion which would probably get me in trouble with GWR’s woke police.

Send praise made me laugh

COVID 19 get a grip

Just went for other option

All filled in and press submit, the answering email was this: Thanks for getting in touch. 
We’ve received your contact and one of our team will get back to you as soon as we can. We are working through cases as quickly as possible, but it may be up to 4 weeks before you receive a full response from us.

4 weeks, by then you would have started court proceedings because I haven’t paid and the bailiffs would be knocking and stripping out the house. At this point i noticed all the contacts through social media Facebook, twitter whatever none of which I have any intention of being associated with but, there was a What’s App number so I used that explaining it all and got an answer saying please call our web support team on this number then option 3 and option 1 . I did, guess what I got. This number is unobtainable, and I thought it would have been nice to have even reached an option. Tried this live chat thing that is also unavailable. Re did the what’s app got a reply to raise a formal complaint for investigation with a web address which took me back to the personal details page, this is hampster in a wheel syndrome honestly I’d get a more intelligent conversation with the cat.

What could possibly be more annoying than going round in circles trying to sort out this shit so I ended up giving live chat a bash which lets face it has never been successful as you get some AI wanker which I know is a machine but the geeks that come up with this bag of bollocks wouldn’t survive in a world of wankers and this is the way they get their own back on the world. So I typed in my problem and got a reply

Thanks for chatting with us today my name is Rachel. Just possibly this might be an actual person ?

So explained everything, had to go through all my details ie inside leg make of underpants etc etc.

Thank you. I am sorry however we are currently experiencing difficulties in order for us to check bookings. This is being raised to our IT team which may be why it isn’t allowing you to rectify. I would advise waiting a few hours and retrying.  What !, your having a laugh I’ve been buggering around for the last 2 hours. So we went through the usual song and dance of I don’t think this is good enough moan moan and got this.

Usually we are able to complete this during live chat chats however the system we use is down so I cannot log in. I would advise waiting for  a day and contacting us via live chat again where this issue hopefully will be resolved and we can assist you. You really think I’ve got nothing better to do than sort out what is not a problem of my doing and following instructions from your staff when I had problems using this card. All of a sudden I got this reply.

Its up and running slowly. Is it the Reading to London leg? . So your system is running and yes it is. The reply was just as baffling

It is saying: This indicates that the journey was originally incomplete but has been automatically completed on the booking so seems to have been successful now. In that case why have I got a couple of emails telling me different and can you confirm I will be billed zero for this. So glad this is now sorted, but she came back with this one

: There is another from Paddington underground however at 12:56 that is now showing up as incomplete. Where did you travel to please and what time? . Ok so I explained all of this the why, what, when and how because unless I leaped the gates at the entrance to the underground in front of multitudes of people and the odd transport police I don’t think I’d be writing this to you from the comfort of my couch instead of a nice cosy cell courtesy of HRH. As she offered to sort this one out I got the message, chat ended by agent, what!, is it done or do I now own Transport for London as well.

Straight back onto live chat and I got Olivia. She was very helpful and went through the whole process again which was ok and she sorted me out with the reply below. Had a bit of a surprise moment with the bit about the card only designed for use in the West Country and also not good for the underground which sort of made the entire exercise a complete waste of time and has forced me to actually destroy said not so smart card and go back to the old system of human interaction when buying a ticket which also makes life easier.

OH BUGGER ITS CHRISTMAS AGAIN SO SHOPPING AND A DODGY LUNCH

BAR DU CHAMPAGNE

24 Henrietta Street

Covent Garden, London, WC2E 8ND

£76.51 Lunch for 2 inc Bottle of sparkling water & 1 glass of Red

NOTTO PASTA BAR

4 Henrietta Street

Covent Garden, London WC2E 8 PS

£85.94 Lunch for 2 & 2 Glasses of red plus 1 Bottle Sparkling water

YES TWO LUNCHES IN ONE DAY.

It’s that time again that I’m a miserable old git and it’s really just the way my mind works but I just can’t get over the fact that we all need to get a grip on life at this time of year. Yeah there’s people out there who love all the fanfare and stuff associated with Xmas and my first question is are you deaf or immune to waking up every morning to the radio and hearing Maria Bloody Carey belting out that awful song about whatever she wants for Christmas and is repeated just about every hour along with Roy Wood and Wizard and that screaming Herbert from Slade who are all bumming a living from the same bloody tune and, don’t get me started on the 500th time Iv’e heard Bing Crosby resurrected from the grave which makes me feel like I’m going to join him if I hear it one more time. There’s just no way to avoid these moronic tunes as every radio station seems to play the same thing over and over again in a live die repeat scenario as if you need reminding that the greatest marketing con of getting you to part with your hard earned on crap that the majority of the population don’t actually need, and then think where am I going to put said crap as there’s no room in that special kitchen draw to dump it in where it stays as you forget, a) who bought it and b) that means you can’t recycle it because just maybe it’s the person who gave it to you who’s been thinking that’s the last time I’ll see that useless piece of tat someone gave me and you’ve only gone and returned it to them.

Along with all this is the stress of thinking what shall I get so and so because what you think is brilliant they open and think really!!!!, what am I going to do with that, oh yeah there’s the bottom draw in the kitchen and I can off load it next year, but then again dam it the fucking draws full. This year is different as we no longer have the five bedroom, five en-suite, cavernous kitchen, twelve seater dining room so will not be running a country house hotel where some arrive and lose all use of their limbs for three days.
Don’t get me wrong we enjoyed some of it but were not going to miss the monkey spent on meat or the two dozen bottles disappearing from the cellar as this year it’s just the two of us and a Lasagne for lunch. Yes we do like friends but come on after three days it’s the same as leaving the fish out of the fridge and keeping it on top of the radiator thinking I’ll never notice the smell will i ?. We also dumped the Christmas card farce as well. Why am I giving you a card when I see you once a week or once a month ?, then why am I sending a card to someone I’ve not seen for a decade or more and never will again who then sends us one with an enclosed letter telling me that they’ve had two kids and what they’ve been doing. If we all wanted to stay in touch then surely it’s going to be more than once a year and if I haven’t spoken to you for god knows how many years then neither of us probably intend to anyway so why would I be interested in your kids exam results when I’ve never spoken, met, laid eyes on them, have no idea what they look like or that your husband who’s now your second called Fred or whatever has gone bald as I think who the fuck is Fred because I can’t even remember the first husbands name so moving without a forwarding address is a god send.

As always before this extravaganza it’s a trip up West as most of us Londoners call it because as the wife doesn’t actually need anything what she wants is not available in the suburban chain stores and it’s not as if either of us are going to wait until Christmas to get it, you want it you buy it there and then or at least we do, but we do have one or two bits (edible or drinkable) to open on the day from either of us or the cats. Shopping is not my forte so she always has to dangle the carrot in front of me and it was with some trepidation that I sat in the usual lanes of traffic battling the mayor of Londons dislike of four wheeled vehicles trying not to pick up fines for entering this weeks newly appointed cycle lane or bus lane or the new 20mph limit from Earl’s Court through Knightsbridge which if you’ve ever driven in this part of town you know it would be impossible to achieve that kind of heady exhilarating speed within any given 20 hour window whilst thinking she hasn’t mentioned where to eat. Luckily while I’m slowly losing it inching forward in first gear for two miles my social secretary had been googling where the reward would be and came up with Bar Du Champagne which is newly opened and from the newspaper critics write up sounded great so table at 2pm.

I arrived first by being thrifty or let’s call it tight travelling by tube on old fart discount and then foot as this is by far the quickest method rather than being the blond only using black cabs which from Knightsbridge to Covent Garden 2.4 miles twenty minutes and nearly £30.00 sans tip for the usual happy smiley West Ham United cab driving fan.

It looked fine from the outside a Georgian building which is right in the middle of the old markets tourist area or the day trippers to London so always busy and I was surprised we got a table. Had to explain to the girl that yes I’m a little early, we had a table yes that is our name, no my wife is not here yet but will be in 20 minutes, would i like a table by myself ?, no my wife is on her way and yes it is her I’m talking to on the phone letting me know where she is. So sat down was given two menus and two wine lists as a couple of minutes later I was asked would you like to order not at the moment thanks, why not, because I’m waiting for someone and that’s why two of everything is on the table, bloody hell why is this so difficult. Wife arrived with bags had to change and have a table in the window as all the tables make it impossible to walk past with bags but I must admit the place looked rather nice but a bit empty.

While waiting I scanned the newspaper critics write ups and even though the place had only been open three weeks it was plainly obvious that said reporters had not actually been here as not one of them had mentioned what the food was like when you actually eat it, also it’s supposed to be a champagne bar showing rare and unusual champagnes, well that’s bollocks and I’m not paying a fortune for something I’ve never heard of and on the other hand two or the six offerings Heidsick and Roederer are not exactly unknown. I asked if all were by the glass and was told yes all are, so good we can try one of the other host of four choices. I was also struggling with the food choice when the blond appeared and asked for a glass of champagne only to be told we no longer do that, what after three weeks of opening. We do Charles Heidsick by the glass, whoopee shit you couldn’t get more basic even if you tried being a champagne bar. All the other offerings were various sparkling wines and I couldn’t care less if they were biodynamic or biological as Cremant and Prosecco are not champagne.

Ordered sourdough to start and what appeared were two slices of fairly solid looking bread with some whipped butter which I don’t eat, the bread was obviously a day or two old as the crust was soggy and yes the bread was stale. Had a plate of Parma ham which was very good but very very fatty and a bit too much of that for both of us. Fancied the Duck rillettes but even though the place was empty that was off the menu so settled for steak tartare on lardo toast which was the same old sourdough toasted with lardo I have no idea as it was like basic toast, but the tartare wasn’t at all bad. We followed this up with the roasted cauliflower with Comte cheese and white wine sauce. Not sure what we actually got but it was a slab of cauliflower covered in what looked like an enemic grilled cheese and no idea of what or where the white wine sauce was plus the cauliflower was watery and tasteless. Now I like a cauliflower but this was a great advertisement for why I’m not a vegetarian and after two mouthfuls each we left it. This all got washed down with a sparkling water and I tried the Georgian red which all the so called critics were noting on this unusually sourced wine list. It was fruity and ok but not anything I’d rush out and slap in the cellar. Waitress just looked at us and the uneaten cauliflower and said you finished, oh yes we said and that was that. No we didn’t complain we ordered it it’s not good and we took our chances and lost out, other people arrived and I have no idea or interest what they ate or thought of it but I’d be surprised if this place is here this time next year.

As we left walking towards Covent Garden Market we passed a place called Notto which rang a bell and not just because we’ve been to the place in Sicily so had a look at the menu outside and thought lets give it a go.

Inside the place was light fresh and trendy and we were shown through to a table by someone who knew what they were supposed to do to the rear of the building where natural light came from two large roof lanterns. Luck must of been with us as we actually got what appeared to be the last table. The menu was short and looked good and were always worried about a place that has too many dishes on the menu as the food always suffers.

Glad we got shown through to a proper table.

We shared a burrata with cavalo nero and smashed olives which was really good and the Foccacia was amazing. Helen followed with the spaghetti and white crab, very good and all the other bits that came with it balanced perfectly. My papperdelle with slow cooked rib was outstanding a rich meaty concoction and great home made pasta, the four girls who took the next table asked about it and yes it’s well worth the calories. We had a couple of glasses of Spanish Bobel grape wine from the Valencia region and a bottle of sparkling.

This place is a gem and they also have one in Piccadilly so yes we had heard of it before. Also we found out why it’s so good, it’s actually headed by a chef called Phil Howard who’s been around for a number of years and held a Michelin star for many years and is now in Elystan Street where Tom Aikens used to be. I think that this is one of the best Italians we have tried in town or anywhere and is up there with Boca di Lupo in Soho. Must admit the day actually ended on a high even if we had to return to Harvey Nichols for a final look at a few more clothes rails.

SPITIKO’S GREEK RESTAURANT

CAVERSHAM

BERKSHIRE

Dinner for two about £80 inc wine but not the extra £20 for the bottle we didn’t like and left.

We’ve now been suburban living in Caversham for a few years now and it’s an ok place if a little strange. By that I mean it has a collection of cafes all of a different what I would call class from the awful cheap bacon smell from a basic fry up and sandwich place to a trendy in vogue whole food type place which does amazing sourdough bread but is so bloody uncomfortable to sit in to be true, but I guess that goes with the modern hippie type champagne socialists that seem to frequent the place, plus we have the I wish we could afford to be really trendy and live in Notting Hill Gate crowd who sit outside a place called the Collective in the freezing cold trying to look boho and cool and only know where Notting Hill is when looking at a map of the tube. Oh yeah and there’s a Costa which is more like a crèche after morning school drop off and completely avoided if you don’t have babies or breast feed.

Spitiko’s is just one of an assortment of eateries as we have two curry houses which are not the greatest one is curry for the Brits and the other an overpriced we think were brilliantly different but is a bit tasteless, two Italians one of which is beyond awful and a Thai but depends on who owns it that month, and two pub chains doing the usual bought in heated up food so pretty gross. So one night we thought let’s give the Greek a go as it’s walking distance and looking at the menu online fairly cheap so off we went with no expectations for this tiny looking restaurant.

Nobody in there but it was 30 mins before opening

Must admit that it’s not a place we would normaly go to but being one of those evenings where neither of us could actually be arsed to make up our minds what to eat or relish the prospect of making it then cleaning it up, so a quick ten minute walk into the unknown it was. It sure is small but the atmosphere is pretty good and lively as everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and not the crowd I imagined inside as everyone looked normal and middle class something you don’t see everyday in this suburb, but then again I’m not exactly sure what is normal or if we’re not just a pair of weirdos who think we’re normal.

Service is wonderful and very friendly one of the best I’ve come across at any price. So as I kicked off with a beer which was a Greek number called Mythos, nice and light and unfortunately brewed by Carlsberg which is absolute piss water but for some reason this was far superior to the major name. The menus came in a sort of A4 laminated sheet which was a bit off putting but at these prices I guess they have to cut back on something. The blond one as usual had a problem choosing a starter and it was between this spicy feta kind of dip called Tirokafteri which is brilliant by the way and the Humous, so the waitress bought us a small portion of the Humous to try at no charge which was we felt a really great touch. Being a pig I had Papoutsakia (no idea either) which was half an aubergine stuffed with a very tasty minced beef and herbs with a melted cheese over the top which was a surprise as it wasn’t mentioned in the menu but not complaining.

We were washing this all down with a red Greek Cabernet Sauvignon from KEO, I really have no idea about Greek wine except for having a few when we’ve been in Greece and they’ve been ok but I’ve never followed them up by reading about them or even contemplated buying for the cellar but to be honest all have been quite palatable as was this. Main course I had a Moussaka and as I didn’t know the place decided to play it safe and not go off piste as being Greek if they can’t do a half decent Moussaka then we’re all waiting our lives. This was very palatable and was more like an enormous slab but stir posed no problem for a greedy guts like me. My peroxide buddy had a great sounding even though we couldnt pronounce it Makaronia Pastichio which is akin to a lasagne (using type of macaroni) layered with beef and pork also very good and very large.

5 minutes after opening and two other tables taken by 30 mins it was rammed.

The portions here are something else and we saw people being offered containers to take away which is all well and good but if it was mine I’d be thinking about how much profit is walking out the door but could also be the reason people come here. No way did we need it but we had a cheese course and another bottle of wine some Cypriot number which was nowhere near the first. The cheese was a block of feta with some really good olive oil poured over it and sprinkled with herbs and some pita bread, boy this was good. As we didn’t like the wine we left it and the waitress actually ran down the road after us with the bottle saying we forgot to take this. The look on her face when we said no it’s for you to drink was brilliant and took a few seconds for her to digest that one but what the hell it was only around £20.

We have been back and gone off piste and I can say that the Kleftiko which is a large lamb shank was fabulous, the only problem is that if I keep going back myself and Helen are going to be the size of a couple of Hino trucks

LA ZAMBRA HOTEL

Urbanización Mijas Golf

Malaga, Costa del Sol.

Signature Suite €686 per night

We returned here and I wrote about this hotel on 1st November 2022 as it had just opened and seeing as how it was so good we decided that it was worth a stopover from Tenerife to see how it has developed. I remember being amazed at the number of fountains that were dotted around the place and posted some pictures on my review, well I found another one in the main dining room or the only one that was open last year. Unfortunately this time it was full of 90 odd self abusers from BMW motorbikes but more about these twats later and I’m not going to be polite about them either as loads of normal guests were giving it the big one about them.

The hotel itself is very very good though if you don’t play golf and I don’t as I’m still breathing many may find it a little bit out of the way and isolated and even though we hired a brand new Mercedes 220 fully loaded with satélite navigation the road Avenida Louison Bobet didn’t appear in any form, we spent 20 frustrating minutes putting in various options like Mijas Golf, the postcode and anything else we could think of but bugger all appeared. Once I’d pushed numerous buttons which being a bloke cures all, I managed to expand the map to find Mijas Golf on the map so headed off in that general direction thinking ok I’ve driven here before how difficult can it be. By now it’s nighttime which doesn’t make life easier especially when I remembered my favourite roundabout where the sat nav tells you to take the 7th exit, really !!!. On doing this I then realised I had no memory of which bloody road to take and various other road users were switching lanes and driving erratically making it impossible to count the turnoffs and hit the correct lane so it was pull over and call the hotel which worked fine and once I saw a familiar sign all was good which being a bloke and having trouble remembering what I had for breakfast why in gods name did I think I’d remember the route from a year ago. Still love this hotel as its value for money and the staff are still brilliant and arriving at 9.30pm letting us shower and change while holding a table for us at 10pm was great.

Reception waiting area still looks good

This time we upgraded to a Signature suite which was a fair old trek through the place but we were shown a short cut out through the garden and pool area via a fire door so all good there. The room was great with a very good sized lounge and seperate bedroom. Usual flat screen TV which could be mirrored from an IPad and a Nespresso coffee machine with a proper carton of milk in the mini bar fridge and not those ridiculous plastic milk pots that usually squirt their entire contents over you and the floor. Bed and linens are extremely comfortable and great quality. Bathroom was large enough for both of us to pad around in without pissing each other off, the shower was large and powerful and a good free standing bath all of which I didn’t photograph because I’m a dick.

This time another restaurant was opened and this one they say is a bit more refined than the original and it is. Once again a fair old trot to find it but well worth it. It’s called Picador and the design was very good with most tables sitting in a really nice courtyard. The building inside was like a small barn with high vaulted ceilings and a very good wine display on the back wall. We chose to sit outside which was nice, the service was a little over the top and would be better if they relaxed a bit and didn’t take it so seriously but at the same time you wouldn’t complain about it. Bread was sourdough with a great crust and some very good olive oil and we both started with a take on a gazpacho with beans and chorizo this was just sensational and I could easily have consumed half a dozen bowls of this but I’ve spent decades perfecting this level of gluttony. Carrying on with the Harold and Hilda theme we both had the octopus. Again this was perfect just melt in the mouth but unfortunately the blonds was tough. It’s just like serving meat really as the chef just wouldn’t have any idea that one was going to be tough it’s just luck of the draw but they sorted it no problem and offered to do another or have a another dish. Neither was necessary as she consumed half of mine so they wiped one from the bill. Had a wine from the province of Malaga called Ronda which as your there you have to do and not an area I know a lot about. The wine was excellent called Pago El Espino and which I am now tracking down in the UK to put in the cellar.

Inside of Picador

Picador courtyard

Picador wine selections

Everything was as perfect as last time, but and there’s always usually a but, the place had a conference of BMW motorbike monkeys who were a complete pain in the arse. We found this out as we relaxed by the pool with three other couples and at 10am 90 people came wandering through the pool deck between a row of sun loungers where we all were and believe me this is a real turn off having people wander through this close staring at you and yacking away in some sort of office speak. An example of this utter bollocks I’ll put down as never having worked in a corporate outfit I know I wouldn’t last five minutes with this lot and as they paraded when like they owned the joint when I hear this.

Well the fundamental outcome of the proposal that you’ve put forward had some good concepts and I now think that the natural progression to go onwards with this is to revisit some of the pointers and take what would amount to a closer look and realign before we can finally dot the I’s and cross the T’s. This is a small exert of what we heard when they all marched through to the bar or restaurant three times a day. To some this probably makes sense but to me it’s total bollocks and if I wrote whatever I’d rather someone just say well that’s a lot of bull shit and your an idiot, but I guess people now get upset with that and have a mental breakdown and boy I would have been certified in todays world with the number of times ive been moaned at or been told that’s shit do it again or find another job and thank god I no longer employ people as I would be the cause of the worlds mental health problems. Not only did this keep happening but you couldn’t actually eat in the main restaurant between 8 & 9pm as they populated it, the bar was totally unusable for paying guests as it was full of these lanyard laden prat’s rubbing up each others egos and one or two moaning about bloody stupid buyers asking too many questions about the company’s bikes and just buy the fucking thing, nearly all were Brits which made it worse along with two self important girls who were the organisers of said conference.

A Dutch couple and a German couple spoke to us about how miffed they were about this take over and some of the manners of these numpty’s so as far as I knew us and six other couples complained. Next day the pool deck was roped off and they had to go a slightly longer route except for a couple of self important dicks and one of these women who decided she could move the roped off area and waltz through. Unfortunately for her we asked if she thought it was there to keep us in and just maybe she could piss off and use the route with the bloody great arrows on it showing the way, so without a second thought luckily for her she did this without a word so avoiding a complete melt down.

Would have been nice to have a drink at the bar, but impossible.

We saw no management until Helen said stick it on Trip Advisor and ask if the CEO of Hyatt would enjoy his holiday. Within the hour the head honcho searched us out and appologised profusely admitting that this had been a problem all year and that he had now advised the booking people not to accept conferences unless they booked the entire hotel. Fair play to him as he offered us two nights in the suite free of charge at any time next year and admitting that this was the wrong line for the hotel to take. This is still a great hotel and fair enough they thought they could make more money but too many clients who would or are returning punters had voiced the same so I guess next year they could be running at a loss.

ITS GRIM UP NORTH

AESSEAL NEW YORK STADIUM

ROTHERHAM, YORKSHIRE

ROTHERHAM UNITED V QUEENS PARK RANGERS

I woke up on a Friday morning looking forward to what going to be a loose end weekend with absolutely nothing to do. All paper work was done, no need to shop for food with the masses as we were well stocked and none of the idiot tenants had called regarding something or anything not working and that includes the idiots who had a duff light bulb last week, and no we don’t include toilet rolls you actually have to buy your own FFS. Reading the Times and consuming my second cappuccino whilst still in bed the blonde came out with where are your lot playing tomorrow ?. Well we’re away at Rotherham and I thought well that’s that and waited for that playful little voice to say you going to loose again. Then what I can only describe as a major brain fart she said shall we go ?. Helen normally goes once a year and that’s only to the Mecca in W12 Shepherds Bush known as Loftus Road and only on a warm sunny day at the very start of the season in August and this was November with rain lashing down and 9c but take it from me it’s always a couple of degrees colder north of Watford. To say I jumped at the chance of an away day especially as we’d sold 1,100 tickets which is a hell of a good following for what has been one of the crappiest teams I’ve seen in 60+ years but for some reason we’ve kept a very noisy boisterous crowd this was going to be a laugh. She then hit me with a problem which was a statement as in if it’s not in hospitality I’m not going, so a day before the match I put the chances of getting hospitality virtually zilch.

9.05am Friday morning I’m frantically looking up the phone number which was fairly prominent on the Rotherham website, unfortunately every time you push number whatever it was for hospitality it just rang and rang, second, third, fourth the same, on the fifth it even refused to actually ring, who are these people ?, is it the same call centre as the bank, British Gas or Thames Water as another 30 minutes of my life just passed me by. I now rang the ticket office direct and spoke to Sharon who passed me on to Dave who passed me on to Mike who was the hospitality guy who just for a laugh is either deaf or has his ring tone turned off along with the vibrating bit which was lucky for him because he would not enjoy where I wanted to shove it. Anyway Mike could book us in on a shared table, great mate I’ll take it there’s two of us. Now Mike sounded a nice bloke except for his very strong Yorkshire accent and he kind of picked up from mine that I just may be from a little bit south of his world and asked if we were the opposition, yes I replied. In that case I need to put you on a separate table says Mike, fine I don’t care says I. Mike then explained that we need a separate table in case it all kicks off. I then explained that I’m with my wife and we’re pensioners so I don’t think we would kick off at all even if someone calls me a fucking cockney twat (I’m not a cockney and been called a lot worse than a twat) and I couldn’t give a monkeys what I’m called but this was all to no avail even though neither of us are large tattoo covered beer swilling coke snorting maniacs, and no we wouldn’t be wearing the clubs colours even though my accent might just give us away as not being locals.

So we hit the road by 9.45am for a 136 mile drive as we had to be parked at the stadium by 1pm ready for lunch. The journey was flawless no road works and no hold ups which was a first especially when using the good old M1 and we arrived with 15 mins to spare even with the biblical rain storms on the way. The actual stadium is brand new and yes I had visited the original some decades ago and even then it was no better than an open ended warehouse but this one is pretty good even though it’s tiny with a 12,021 capacity and the views of the pitch were excellent.

Don’t get the name as it couldn’t be further from anything to do with NYC

We had friends who lived in Rotherham many years ago or at least they had a large stone pile in a couple of acres behind a six foot high stone wall with solid gates which meant we could have been anywhere except for this place which if you think of the arsehole of the universe then Rotherham is a thousand light years up it. The actual town centre is pretty much boarded up and derelict and if you’re contemplating suicide then this is more than likely the place you’d live in.

With it being a new stadium with hospitality parking included on site which is so rare here in the UK we walked two minutes to the main entrance where checking in with the receptionists we met Mike who recognised our accents from the phone and I can guarantee he’s not deaf nor has a phone shoved up his arse but a nice friendly bloke, but most people up there are a lot friendlier than us in London. Hospitality suite is enormous and for a stadium this size and I guess there must have been 300 + people here and considering the cost @£130 per person there must be more cash knocking around than what the actual town looks like or at least none of its spent in the town and this made me think of the north south divide and the governments idea of flooding the area with cash to level it up. Question for me is that a lot more people have spare cash up here if working than we do as a one bed flat in W12 can knock you back over £600,000 while a massive pile in grounds costs less than half that so who’s better off?.

Nice little stadium showing the away end where the Rangers faithful will be.

As I said the hospitality is huge compared to the ground and we were shown to a table for two right next to ceiling to floor windows and right by our padded seat, yes when you pay this much the seat is padded but this was still a shock to the blonde as she was of the opinion that the seats are like armchairs. The last time she did what she called hospitality was actually in the directors box at Rangers which again is a different level so her education continued, but she was happier than at previous away games at such amazing venues as Barnsley, Wigan or Sheffield Wednesday amongst the baying hordes known as supporters. We received the usual stuff free program that nobody actually reads unless your 10 years old and a team sheet with the respective line ups. The menu contained no choices as being Yorkshire they don’t have any soft leftie vegetarian vegan hippy London types populating the eating houses up here so meat it was and from past experiences I guessed everything was going to come with fried onion rings regardless. The wine list was also short with absolutely nothing we would choose and at crazy over inflated prices but then again the entire population here consume vast quantities of beer and all we saw was pints flowing to each table with expanded waistlines to match and that included the women all of which must have started layering on the make up at the crack of dawn and dressed to the nines, fair play that they bother but Christ almighty it’s a football match. Life really is different up there.

Wine list, producers ? vintage ?

Dread to think what bronze,silver or gold is like

So we started with a bottle of sparkling water and a quizzical look from the waitress either because we weren’t drinking or the shock of my accent. The soup was so obviously a packet job as it was still a little bit kind of dusty and was supposed to be parsnip but was more like carrot so not sure. The braised belly pork was how can I say not exactly un cooked but had not been rendered down and was more akin to a bit of pork between two slices of fat also missing was the onion rings, the mash was ok but someone forgot to actually cook the chunk of apple and the sauce was ok but cider who knows. The desert was supposed to be white chocolate mousse which is going to be really sweet but was more like that squirty cream with added sugar and the chocolate blonde I guess was an awful truffle from Thornton which are all gross anyway or maybe that was the bit of cake stuff in the bottom but it was inedible to us but this lot seemed to be scoffing the lot so we must be weirdos.

After a not very eaten lunch we took our seats amongst the home side faithful where it was a case of sitting on my hands and trying to look neutral while away to our right the homies were in full voice and loud as the teams came out and a couple of the home blokes did say to us that your lot are really loud with a great following. There was a perfect two minutes silence and they had Scottish pipers and I think a retired serviceman play the last post which did go a bit wayward, this was a bit early for Remembrance Day but this was the clubs only home game before that date and every club does this.

Pipers

Ready for the two minutes silence

The R’s saying hi to the officials

Our support beginning to fill the away end. Seats provided by its always standing only.

This was not going to be a high quality match as both teams are struggling, Rotherham normally do but we have dropped from being promotion contenders last season to complete dross due to miss management and our playing style from a passing team to what we call hoof ball which has been consigned to the scarp heap thirty years ago and any idiot could see we don’t have the players for the old fashioned kick and run and hope for the best. This was our second game under our new messiah Mati Cifuentes who’s a Spaniard and had success in Scandinavia and plays a great passing game of football. The previous week in his first game we expected a cricket score against the best team in the division but we unluckily lost 2-1 and actually played football. In this match we looked good and controlled the game looking comfortable but at the same time Rotherham offered very little and after 30 minutes this had 0-0 written all over it as no matter how good we look goals are just not our forte and the first half ended 0-0 and we retired back to our table for refreshments or another sparkling water as the blondes request for Earl Grey tea fell on deaf ears as thats a bit upmarket. A few people spoke to us about the match and it was all very friendly as we moaned about this and that as that’s what football is all about.

Just before we went 1-0 up

The second half was pretty much like the first except for the fact our little Morrocan Ilias Chair scored an absolute beauty curling it in from the edge of the area into the top corner causing pandemonium amongst the hooped contingent in the away end and the blonde actually bouncing around like a jack in the box amongst the grim faced locals. This bought Rotherham to life a bit more and the game was now on and we had 40 minutes to play out. All was going well until we bought on Taylor Richards who actually has ability but just hates playing football and is the biggest overpaid pile of useless shit ever to pull on the hoops. This bloke has bummed a living from us by always being injured but always able to appear at London nightlife on social media, we paid good money for this waster and he spent ten minutes waddling around waving his arms in exasperation (yes he thinks he’s way above this level) moaning at the other players until he decided to nonchalanty knock the ball back with his bloody big head into the path of a Rotherham player causing a desperate lunge from one of our defenders bringing him down. The resulting free kick into our area became 1-1, no arguments and a very good strike it was, then ten minutes later they rattled our upright but by now the game was beginning to fade as both teams seemed to settle on the result. A point is a point and we need all we can get but our style of football is light years away from what we’ve been subjected to and if we can secure a striker in Januarys transfer window I think all will be ok, and this new manager in only two games has transformed us even though we’re not going to light any fires.

For me a great day out even with a 270 odd mile round trip and rain most of the day, we had to do a pit stop on the way back to pick up a couple of sarnys from the service station as we were both bloody starving. So that’s the blond done for the season unless the guys I go with arrange to meet up with the wives for a match and a night out in town but that will be late April May and all depends on the weather while I’ve got another 26 matches to go.

Says it all we shaded it but a draw was a fair result IMHO.

348 SPANIARDS & 2 BRITS

A SPANISH WEDDING SOMEWHERE IN NORTH TENERIFE

I really have no idea in what Pueblo this wedding was in as we got ferried there by our friends in a nine seater van plus two others rammed in where the luggage would go which is sans seating. After an amusing day in our hotel retirement home and a few evening drinks with the family in the hotel where the reception was made the one we stayed in a luxurious affair. The couple picked October as the weather is supposedly very pleasant unlike his brothers which was on Fuerteventura in the middle of August in 36c. As luck would have it in Tenerife they had a bloody heatwave the week before with the added bonus of what is like a sand storm in the air where everything turns orange from the settling sand, luckily we missed this by a couple of days but still ended up in 32c at 7pm.

Now a Spanish wedding is something to behold especially for a heathen like me, but before that there’s the clothing issue to tackle. Not so bad for blokes as it’s the basic suit and tie job but for the women it’s evening ball gowns and that holds even if the ceremony is in the morning but this one was in the evening when it’s supposed to be cooler but it wasn’t. So after months of searching dresses and bloody shoes the blond had a number which was a bit heavier than the temperature was comfortable for but at least her top half ( not all of it obviously) off the shoulder was open to the elements unlike wearing a shirt and jacket. After months of shoe searching the ones she bought for the wedding didn’t even make it past the suitcase and are now amongst the vast collection in a kind of shoe shrinewhich one day will be like discovering Cleopatras secret burial site full of unused shoes.

The blond looking cool for the last time before leaving for the wedding

At 6pm we were suited up and draining a quick glass of champagne in the bar awaiting a 6.30pm pick but as this is Canarian time, they were late. The nine seater Fiat thing was fine except we had a couple of extra family members lodged in the luggage area behind the three rows of seats so the noise level was cranked up a bit. This tank thing had sat nav but why it wasn’t being used as no one was actually aware of exactly where we were going was I suppose of no surprise seeing as we’ve known this lot for nearly 40 years, but directions were being given by more than one person from mobile phones and yes one or two differed. So the journey wasn’t exactly relaxing as it got a little hairy round a few bends as the clock ticked on but in the end we got there and very pretty it was, though also being there two days earlier it just might have been a good idea to have done a dry run.

Didn’t get good pictures as very rushed

The church sat at the top of a hill in the centre of the village dominating everything around it as good old Catholic Churches do and was very imposing. Inside was seriously decorated and i don’t think a lot of photos were allowed as it didn’t look like the usual sparse village church and with the way it was decorated inside gave that impression. Ushers don’t exist and it seemed to be a pretty free for all as to where to sit but on previous experience never take the front row. Not being of this faith (or any interest in any other) I take the second row of seats at least because then you have an automatic cue card in front of you and can see what your supposed to be doing. We knew this was going to be at least an hour long and boy did this one go on and on and on and on. Looking around every wall seemed to be dominated by some enormous carved effigy depicting death and suffering of Jesus Christ in various poses, boy this lot really are happy. Also the other confusing factor seemed to be anyone from the village could rock up and take a seat for the ceremony which I thought yeah that’s cool.

Juan, the other daughter in law, grand kids Leo the spawn of the devil and sister Laila who’s lovely and Helen

So it all began with three priests with one of them being the head honcho and the other two in a supporting role flicking bits and pieces around plus water and changing what seemed to be candlesticks or whatever while the top bloke chatted on and on a lot about the heart and stuff like that. I got a little confused when we got to the bit about El Senor and had also tuned out so like a prize dork I turned around looking for some bloke to come waddling up the aisle carrying some sort of cross depicting more pain and suffering or waving incense around but to no avail except for 300 odd Spaniards sat behind me wondering just what the hell this blokes looking for ?. Ok I’m an idiot, but for the last half hour we’d been up and down like bloody yo-yo’s with everyone but us mumbling away and furiously crossing themselves up down left and right that I wasn’t sure if we were all part of an old Jane Fonda workout video from the 80’s. So with the heart stuff all forgotten about this El Senor bloke seemed to take over the proceedings for the next 20 mins or so with more leg squats, mumblings and lots more crossing involved and a lot more Latin and plenty of en el nombre del padre del hijo etc etc and we’re just getting hotter and hotter.

This was just a small part of the grooms side.

It was all fun except for an extra half hour tacked onto proceedings when some of the guests and an awful lot of locals who turned up getting the freebie wafer and mouthful of wine at which point I could have killed for a small cold beer. Meanwhile a couple of old lady’s appeared with what look like bamboo sticks with large triangular cloth socks attached to them which turned out to be some sort of payment to get you through the pearly gates. I got nudged with a have you got any change ?. No I’ve only got 50€ notes on me and for that I don’t expect that to solely be the entrance fee to Valhalla I want a limo picking me up as well.

By now night had drawn in and outside was lit by lights and thankfully was cooler as we hung around waiting for the couple to emerge where you have a choice of throwing flower petals or in Spanish tradition rice. Now when this rice affair happens don’t stand at the front as believe it or not the rice can be bloody painful and for some insane reason the blond stood where she shouldn’t be and ended up with half a paddy field down her dress where being hot it didn’t exactly work its was through and so stuck to her body chaffing away for the next hour or two.

Bride and groom just before the rice throwing

We all piled into the 9 seater van and shot back off to the reception minus the two cousins in the luggage area which was just as manic with 3 people giving conflicting directions which meant we ended up on the highway heading for the airport before exiting in the middle of nowhere and finding our way back, surely the Sat nav in the vehicle had our previous location? maybe maybe not but why be sensible and all this before a drink. The reception held in some hotel was very good as we all started with nibbles and wine around the pool deck which was great and we got to mingle with the dozens of cousins we don’t see every time we visit and some of them are now adults so at times I had no idea who the hell I was talking to but they were all cool with that. Inside the grooms mum Mariola had dressed all the tables with flower arrangements and all the room in general. Got to admit that the food was way beyond our expectations not only was it done very well for mass catering we couldn’t actually eat it all as the portions were enormous. The wedding cake was inedible to us as the amount of sugar used must have boosted Brazils sugar exports but then again neither of us have a sweet tooth. The evening was excellent and I think we got back to our retirement home at around 2am just a little bit worse for wear.

The blond and a little fat bloke on the left dying to know the rugby score, nice sea view in background

The following day the groom, his bride, brother, wife, parents, kids and a grandmother decided we were all having lunch at our pool deck restaurant which made eleven of us in total so that’s going to piss the guests off with the noise level. It all went fine and they bought along part of the wedding cake which hadn’t been touched which as I said was a complete sugar rush probably comparable to cocaine and we all had to have a bit. There was an English couple probably around our age with their son possibly 2O ish and we’d seen her the day before with a walking stick and about 40lb overweight which might be the reason she wasn’t the most mobile or lithe mover and had noticed the cake which was still mostly untouched. As we were about to leave she announced that if they were leaving that cake can they have it. We asked Jeffri what he was going to do with it as they wanted it, he said they can have it we don’t want anymore. Helen sauntered up to the table and said to them in English you may have it as it’s their wedding cake and they’ve had enough, so when the big bird finally picked up her jaw from the floor saying “oh you understood me”, of course we are English which left her totally confused but I bet she enjoyed the cake and just may now be using two walking sticks.

Bride & Groom