Make a cup of tea, get yourself comfy, this is going to be a long one.
So much for updating twice weekly.
Where were we last time ?
I think I had just been to Yorks to help Mum move at the end of October.
Firstly, with reference to the title, the electric blanket was placed reverentially on the bed a couple of weeks ago. There are some people who claim they like to get into a cold bed & warm it up gradually. There is a name for these people - sick.
In conjunction with the electric blanket the spare duvet was coerced along with the existing one into the duvet cover. The entire thing now has a weighty quality ensuring no movement in bed is possible. Going to bed has now become a religious experience. The best thing about blankie is that I can still leave the bedroom window open because I like the fresh air on my face but the rest of my body resembles a small nuclear explosion.
At the beginning of November, on this man’s recommendation, the MilkMan & I went here
on the shores of Windermere. On Mum's advice I've always favoured the North end of the Lakes for summer visits but Windermere in November makes perfect sense.
We were treating ourselves to a few days r & r to make up for working Christmas & New Years. The place was old, the furnishings exquisite & the service discreet & professional. What bliss to eat a meal in a venue where the staff don’t interrupt every 20 minutes to ask ‘if everthing’s alright ?’ If it’s not – I’ll tell you, how’s that ?
It was marvellous.
We did some of this.
Note MTM, walking pole & compass just to irritate you. Pole, not stick.
Is it lunchtime yet ?
We climbed one of these.
Those of us who didn’t know where we were had to do this.
Those who did, could afford to relax & do this.
All in all, the break in the great outdoors made me feel like this.
Shiny, happy people.
Anticipating a grim return journey on the M6 we stopped at the services & I introduced Milky to one of my passions – talking books. Ian Rankin was the author of choice & the particular book was ‘Blood Hunt’. I really enjoyed it & I know Milky did – he’s never been quiet for that long before.
After a quick turnaround I found myself in Dublin for the weekend, celebrating Cocky’s birthday with her sister Helen & 7 more friends. With some good fortune we found ourselves in the gorgeous Bewleys Hotel, Ballsbridge
Briggsy, Pam, Cocky, Rae.
(I remembered the name Piggy !) We were 10 minutes away from Lansdowne Road on a weekend when Ireland were playing the All Blacks at home. Dublin – a city never short of people looking to enjoy themselves was further enriched by thousands of happy Kiwis.
On the Friday night we headed out to explore & found ourselves at a Cuban restaurant beginning dinner at 1015 pm. I discovered that night that I do like Cuban cuisine but don’t like mango margueritas. I will happily admit to being very pleased to see my bed.
If only all hotels had feather pillows, feather duvets & crisp white cotton bedding the world would be a happier place. I’ve never slept in feather bedding before but have since written to Santa.
This guy travels with me wherever I go, it amused me no end to find the maid had placed him thus.
On Saturday we did what every visitor to Dublin has to do & hopped on a tour bus to go to the Guinness factory. I last visited a couple of years ago for Lovely Angie’s birthday but it’s well worth a second visit. The building itself is lovely, lots of girders & glass,
the exhibits thoughtful & interesting & I had a gorgeous seafood chowder here.
We then went to the stunning Gravity Bar
which offers unrivalled 7th floor, 360 degrees of Dublin but (get this Ang) left after one complimentary pint & headed off to the shops. I can safely say the shops, or at least the ones we found ourselves in) were awful … a seething mass of humanity & clothes in displays which as Helen put it ‘resembled waterfalls’ due to the churning mass of human hands grabbing at them.
Those of us who were exhausted (me) headed back to the hotel for a very quick 20 minute nap. Feeling hugely refreshed I met up with the others in the hotel lobby
Lynn, Helen, Cocky, Rae, Lynn, Avril, Briggsy
& at Avril’s suggestion we headed off for a cocktail at the next door Four Seasons Hotel. (50 million euros to build according to a local cabbie) This happened to be a stroke of genius on Avril’s part for the Ice Bar in the Four Seasons was simply gorgeous. Only the prices & our booking at our Thai restaurant Diep Le Shaker (or the ‘People Shaker’ as Cocky insisted in referring to it all weekend) put us off staying the entire night.
Pam, Avril & Cocky in The People Shaker
After a delicious meal we set off into Dublin looking for fun. I forget the name of the first pub we went to but we knew it was going to be lively when the cabbie said ‘Are you sure ?’ Turns out it was too packed to get inside so we stood freezing outside quizzing the locals & trying to find somewhere to dance until the early hours. After a couple of false starts our guide John turned up trumps & led us to a very swanky club which is allegedly Colin Farrell’s club of choice.
None of the people we spoke to the next day could understand how we had come to be admitted to this very exclusive club. Delving into our alcohol-smudged memory banks we re-called that we had entered by a fire-escape & not the main entrance thereby avoiding the extortionate entry fee. Result.
Easily the best thing about visiting Dublin this time was the total no-smokng ban in public. I didn't realise how much smoke ruined a night out until I woke up on both Saturday & Sunday mornings wondering what felt different. The it occurred to me - no smell of smoke in my hair & on my clothes. I didn't have the hangover I deserved on either morning either, which makes me think smoke must be a contributory factor to feeling rough.
Ireland has very wisely embraced a total no-smoking ban whilst here in England our government has opted for a half-arsed 'no smoking where there's food being served' ban. I speak from first hand experience when I say the pubs & clubs in Ireland are doing a roaring trade, so any of this nonsense about pubs going out of business is just that - nonsense. I also know of several friends who say they only smoke after having a few drinks, if they weren't allowed to, that would help hem too (I'm aware that sounds fascist - never mind.)
I digress, back to the night out, I had a fantastic night cavorting & assume everyone else did too ?
After a good breakfast the next morning we headed off to our respective parts of the world agreeing that next time it would be Prague for Rae’s 40th.
On my next set of rest days I fulfilled a long-held ambition & dragged Milky off here
to the Natural History Museum. I wasn’t disappointed. Emerging from the tube at South Ken had me slack-jawed. I turned to Milky & demanded
‘Have you been here before ?’
‘Yes – why ?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me how utterly gorgeous this building is ?’
‘I was seven’ – he replied calmly.
The inside lived up to the promise of the exterior. I'm with Murray in finding natural objects more fulfilling to photograph than man-made ones. On this occasion though I'm happy to contradict myself. Everything about this building sums up what's laudable about English heritage & culture.
We got there shortly after opening, stayed until closing & still didn’t manage to see everything. My personal favourite was the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition. £6 seemed a little steep until I saw the exhibition. Dozens of photos were displayed on wall-mounted back-lit plinths & in a smaller seated hangar-type enclosure a display of the best images from the last 20 years were running on a loop to a background of recorded natural sounds like cicadas & loons. Entrancing.
We left the building at dusk, which was a great time to appreciate the ice-rink. The trees around the rink had been draped in lights & they reflected off the rink like huge strings of shimmering pearls. A lovely day.
Nights is easily my favourite shift, partly because the work is more interesting, partly because the management don’t appear, but mostly because nights is when I have Barley. This means my routine is as follows … Leave work, take Barley for a 20 minute run in the freezing cold, go home, switch on electric blanket, make Weetabix with hot milk, get into toasty bed at 0700, get up at 1300, ride between 1400 & 1600 then back to bed by 1800 for another hour’s sleep. Riding with Barley adds a whole new dimension to the pleasure. The horses exercise Barley in a way I never could & there’s nothing finer than seeing Barley running flat-out alongside the horse. Speaking of which …
Happy Birthday Barley.
7 years young as of 26th November and only today a lady saw her whilst we were out riding & said ‘Ah he’s lovely, how old is your puppy ?’ People always think Barley is a boy ? Barley's present was a chicken dinner - it didn't last long.
Horses make life good.
I have ridden 6 days from the last 10 & each day has been different. Some have been misty & still.
Others have been clear & sharp. This was the sunset I was treated to coming off Mickleham Gallops on my favourite boy CB. This alone was worth getting out of bed for.
Thursday was blustery & dark. I love riding in the Winter, somehow it’s more cleansing & I’d rather wrap up against the cold than try & keep cool. I rode the mercurial Hannah. She has been off work for a while after a nasty fall & I entered her stable today with the warning from Kerry ‘Sorry she’s so wet, I had to hose her off after I found her sweaty from galloping around the field.' Hmmm.
We set off into the dark, oppressive, blowy Surrey woodland & my legs soon ached from hanging on as she spooked at every gremlin, real & perceived, lurking in the hedgerow. Such was her mood that 3 times she spooked at Barley who was dressed in a fluorescent coat.
How she could pretend to be surprised at a dog who could be seen for 5 miles I really don’t know. I found myself singing to her to calm her nerves (& mine). I often sing if I’m nervous whilst riding. Horses are very perceptive & can tell when a rider is holding their breath. Singing forces me to breathe in & out. Today’s chosen classics were ‘Rivers of Babylon’, ‘Silent Night’ and ‘Land of Hope & Glory’. I can’t think of a single compilation CD on which you would find those 3.
I have returned from every ride this week feeling calm, happy & physically & mentally invigorated. A small price to pay for losing a few hours sleep. I cannot urge everyone strongly enough, whatever ails you, go outside, do things with animals. That reads badly. You know what I mean.
5 days off now :)
Cx
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