did you miss me?
Two trains, a bit of a walk, one replacement bus and a short taxi ride later I arrived back to the peace, tranquility and desirably effective central heating of home late-ish on Saturday night, thanks not actually to the weather but as it turned out, the ever-convenient weekend engineering works which as anyone living within a thirty mile radius will know means that the rail experience (irrespective of what is being engineered and where) will be ending at York.
Slight technical hitches on the way from Guernsey to Gatwick led to a complete write off of Friday afternoon work-wise, but my rather snazzy (if a little compact) hotel room did not go to waste; my fabulous pal Kinky La Rue has long bemoaned the lack of suitable options photography-wise for the more voluptuous and statuesque lady (and having whizzed through the sites and blogs of the usual suspects, I wholeheartedly agreed) and since I had my camera with me anyway, we decided to make the most of the smart decor and rustle up an impromptu photo shoot – furniture and bedding was alternately tidied, rumpled and dragged round the room (and used as a stepladder out of basic necessity, my subject standing a mighty six foot four in her red satin heels and me just about scraping five foot three in my socks) and the gorgeous results can be seen on Kinky’s site as of today – yay. Having popped for a look in between strolling to the kitchen for more peppermint tea and the usual sofa-bound, netbook-on-lap quilt dwelling which comprises my daily activities after a longish work trip, I’m feeling rather proud of myself and my trusty D60!
My fee for an hour or so of point-and-shoot without dropping the camera or falling over was a much-needed lunch and a Dragon Kumquat cocktail at Ping Pong, another busy dim sum spot which unbeknown to us was neighbouring the South Bank’s regular weekend Real Food Festival at the back of the South Bank Centre. The option to first have multiple mini-dishes of different foods to ward off the dreaded mid-plate boredom (and my weakness for places serving pretty things on a procession of little plates is already well documented) and then follow up with some proper New York cheesecake from one of the stands outside, as well as (in my case) some smelly cheese, a dried sausage of indeterminate type, a jar of chilli paste and fresh bread and English muffins from the baker stall to take home was an attractive one indeed and the time flew by – I even almost forgot about the cold. The cheesecake, needless to say, never made it out of the box although in a display of astonishing restraint, it did make it as far as Kings Cross station (mainly because I was still too full of braised beef rice pot, glazed pork ribs and seafood dumplings to do much bar fantasise about it before that).
And so to home, where I will be for another week from now before my much anticipated three days of R&R at Champneys (which in truth will mean much the same daily MO as here apart from the lack of mobile phones, somebody else doing the cooking and cleaning and the fact that I will not need to go outside to get to a swimming pool). I will not be available (in any meaningful way at least) for appointments in Scarborough from the 22nd February until the 14th of March – Belfast is quietly filling up in the background, New York follows the week after and most of the intervening time is spoken for already although as ever, prior warning is the name of the game and with notice I can fit the packing/unpacking/repacking around most things.
The vigilant will again have noticed a handful of new pictures appearing – there will be more soon but not for a couple of weeks, or at least however long it takes for me to no longer look as if I haven’t slept for a month. In addition, my New York page is up, the special phone is ordered, ads are being placed and bookings will be taken soon – don’t be shy!
More soon. Time for Masterchef, Ready Brek and an early night (again).
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