Thursday, August 09, 2012
Returning Home…
My folks have left the UK after a great extended holiday and eventually made it back to NZ after waiting 6 hours at Gatwick while engineers fixed something to do with the breaks on their plane but as they said ‘luckily they found out before the plane left the ground’. They had planned a layover on route which was cut short and meant they did not miss the connecting flight; it was just more tiring than usual.
But they are back safe and sound and happy to be home.
Brighton and the Pavilion …
For mum and dad’s last full day in the UK before they returned home we all went to Brighton where we had lunch at a fun café called Bill’s before we went on to visit the Brighton Pavilion to see an almost unbelievable over the top display of wealth and bad taste. Unlike the more disturbing Waddesdon Manor this was too comically tasteless to cause such offense with its towering chandeliers supported by giant gilt dragons, steel columns made to look like palm trees, serpents winding themselves around the curtains two foot high nodding Chinamen in the hall.
It was a wonderful sunny day and the park around the pavilion was full of foreign tourists, locals on their lunch break and students listening to other students playing music
More of wot I have seen…
We stumbled across this series by accident and new
nothing about it before we started watching, but we were glad we picked it up
as it is a very entertaining show. The storylines are not the
be-all-and-end-all to the show though there are some interesting lawyer like
scenes as it goes along. The big thing to us about this show is the mood of the
show and the character acting of the stars, both of this are pitched just right
with a light yet punchy feel to the stories and great acting by the cast that
seemed to allowed to push things a little to hook the viewer and appear to be
really enjoying themselves hugely.
I would certainly recommend you checking this show out
and would love to hear if you like it too.
‘While running from a drug deal gone bad, Mike Ross, a brilliant young
college-dropout, slips into a job interview with one of New York City's best
legal closers, Harvey Specter. Tired of cookie-cutter law school grads, Harvey
takes a gamble by hiring Mike on the spot after he recognizes his raw talent
and photographic memory. Mike and Harvey are a winning team. Even though Mike
is a genius, he still has a lot to learn about law. And while Harvey may seem
like an emotionless, cold-blooded shark, Mike's sympathy and concern for their
cases and clients will help remind Harvey why he went into law in the first
place. Mike's other allies in the office include the firm's best paralegal
Rachel and Harvey's no-nonsense assistant Donna to help him serve justice.
Proving to be an irrepressible duo and invaluable to the practice, Mike and
Harvey must keep their secret from everyone including managing partner Jessica
and Harvey's arch nemesis Louis.’
The Killing (US) Season 2
We tried to start with the original Swedish show but a
fault in the recordings meant we missed a few episodes, show we switched to the
US version when it followed soon after. Not expecting much of a US remake we
were surprised as they seemed to capture the Nordic-Noir feel of the whole
thing (though the constant rain has put us off visiting Seattle now). I have
heard that the story lines diverge quite dramatically between the Swedish and
US versions and even though they have tried to keep the mood it has a different
emphasis and pace to suit the domestic market. For me the stand out things
about the show apart from the good dark (sometimes visually too dark) feel, are
the two actors playing the lead characters Mireille Enos as Sarah Linden and
Joel Kinnaman as Stephen Holder are brilliant. Mireille is a captivating
actress who draws my attention even though she is very restrained and
controlled. Stephen plays a great counterpoint to his partner with his quirky,
twitchy manner.
I don’t know how this compares to the Swedish but
after watching the both seasons of the US show I enjoyed what they have done
and I recommend to anyone who likes a crime show.
The Killing ties together three distinct stories around a single murder including the detectives assigned to the case, the victim's grieving family, and the suspects. Set in Seattle, the story also explores local politics as it follows politicians connected to the case. As the series unfolds, it becomes clear that there are no accidents; everyone has a secret, and while the characters think they've moved on, their past isn't done with them.
The Killing stars Mireille Enos (Big Love) as Sarah Linden, the lead homicide detective that investigates the death of Rosie Larsen; Billy Campbell (Once and Again) as Darren Richmond, Seattle's City Council President and now running for Mayor; Joel Kinnaman (Snabba Cash) as Stephen Holder, an ex-narc cop who joins the homicide division in the investigation to find Rosie's killer; Michelle Forbes (True Blood) as Rosie's mother, Mitch Larsen; and Brent Sexton (W., In the Valley of Elah) as Rosie's father, Stan Larsen. The pilot and Season 2 finale are directed by Patty Jenkins (Monster).’
More of wot I have read…
This was an unusual silly little book from one of the
creative forces behind Red Dwarf. It has some fun and interesting observations
about society that the author explores through the somewhat weak narrative, though
perhaps I missed some of the more subtle jokes. It was an easy read but I can’t
say it was all that memorable.
‘Article 13199 of the Pan-European Constitution: No person shall be
prejudiced from employment in any capacity, at any level, by reason of age,
race, creed or incompetence.
In a united Europe of the near future, incompetence is not an option,
it’s compulsory. You can’t be fired for being bad at your job. But the rules
don’t apply to the psychopath who’s leaving a trail of corpses across the
continent. He’s very competent indeed.
And so, down these mean, incredibly badly sign-posted streets, one
detective must thread his way through a maze of blind nightclub bouncers,
octogenarian male bunny girls and airline pilots with vertigo.
In search for a killer. In search of the truth. In search of a decent
plumber.’
Another Discworld novel that expands the well
developed world and adding new characters and ideas to the mix, though I think
this is more for the fans rather than a great stand-alone book. It lacks a
little of the original Pratchett magic but it does have some interesting things
to say along the way.
‘It is a truth universally acknowledged that a policeman taking a
holiday would barely have had time to open his suitcase before he finds his
first corpse.
Commander Sam Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch is on holiday in the
pleasant and innocent countryside, but not for him a mere body in the wardrobe.
There are many, many bodies – and an ancient crime more terrible than murder.
He is out of his jurisdiction, out of his depth, out of bacon
sandwiches, occasionally snookered and out of his mind. But never out of guile.
Where there is a crime there must be a finding, there must be a chase, and
there must be a punishment.
They say that in the end all sins are forgiven.
But not quite all…’
Weekend with Family…
Recently we visited my uncle and his lady friend at her place for a family get together before my folks returned to NZ.
I initiated my own unofficial ‘bring your parents to work day’ as we planned to leave straight from work on the Friday, so they enjoyed the dubious delights of Bracknell before joining me and a large group celebrating a colleague’s retirement at the quirky Hideout, home of the Thai House Restaurant and a local hang out for a group of us each Friday lunchtime. It is an odd place hidden in the Bracknell forest decorated with humour with a teddy in armour and stag’s head wearing a hard hat and sunglasses and a couple of Harley Davidson video game machines that I have never seen working.
After work we drove straight on to Gill’s house and encountered the expected Friday afternoon chaos that is the western side of the M25. This was one of the main reasons why we arranged our travel this way as I knew it I had to travel back home before returning along the same bit of motorway it would be a nightmare. Also we didn’t want to leave our journey to the next morning as our village would have been cut off as the roads were being shut for the Olympic Cycle races on Saturday and Sunday.
We were treated to a wonderful evening meal and had plenty of catching up to do. Mum and dad enjoyed exploring the property and interacting with the animals.
We joined the Aldbury Morris side once again, this time as they performed at the Aston Abbotts Fete which is a small, perfectly formed, village fete. Where owner’s dogs were entered into competitive sausage eating contests, kids climbed of antique tractors next to the bouncy castle and the Silver Band played next to the outdoor skittle alley.
On our way back we stopped briefly at the Pitstone Windmill, an iconic post mill in the middle of fields of waving golden grain.
On the weekend we also visited Waddesdon Manor, one of the Rothschild’s party houses built specifically to house a large collection of art work and to entertain guests on hunting weekends. I found this place disturbing with its vulgar display of wealth and antique bling in such an over the top manner.
Out in front of the house was a large display of shiny automotive art in the form of the Jenson Owners Car Club, C-V8 50th Birthday celebrations. Here buffed and polished motors gleamed in the sunlight, though closer inspection revealed that many had cloths under the engine to protect the ground from oil leaks.
Also in the grounds were some very interesting sculptures scattered around the building offering some surprising views.
To top our visits off we also stopped at the Ford End Watermill which was putting on a demonstration grinding grain into flour with the impressive power of the water in the mill pond that turned the grinding stones and shook the building.
We had a lovely weekend and it was a moving sight as mum and her brother said their goodbyes.
I initiated my own unofficial ‘bring your parents to work day’ as we planned to leave straight from work on the Friday, so they enjoyed the dubious delights of Bracknell before joining me and a large group celebrating a colleague’s retirement at the quirky Hideout, home of the Thai House Restaurant and a local hang out for a group of us each Friday lunchtime. It is an odd place hidden in the Bracknell forest decorated with humour with a teddy in armour and stag’s head wearing a hard hat and sunglasses and a couple of Harley Davidson video game machines that I have never seen working.
After work we drove straight on to Gill’s house and encountered the expected Friday afternoon chaos that is the western side of the M25. This was one of the main reasons why we arranged our travel this way as I knew it I had to travel back home before returning along the same bit of motorway it would be a nightmare. Also we didn’t want to leave our journey to the next morning as our village would have been cut off as the roads were being shut for the Olympic Cycle races on Saturday and Sunday.
We were treated to a wonderful evening meal and had plenty of catching up to do. Mum and dad enjoyed exploring the property and interacting with the animals.
We joined the Aldbury Morris side once again, this time as they performed at the Aston Abbotts Fete which is a small, perfectly formed, village fete. Where owner’s dogs were entered into competitive sausage eating contests, kids climbed of antique tractors next to the bouncy castle and the Silver Band played next to the outdoor skittle alley.
On our way back we stopped briefly at the Pitstone Windmill, an iconic post mill in the middle of fields of waving golden grain.
On the weekend we also visited Waddesdon Manor, one of the Rothschild’s party houses built specifically to house a large collection of art work and to entertain guests on hunting weekends. I found this place disturbing with its vulgar display of wealth and antique bling in such an over the top manner.
Out in front of the house was a large display of shiny automotive art in the form of the Jenson Owners Car Club, C-V8 50th Birthday celebrations. Here buffed and polished motors gleamed in the sunlight, though closer inspection revealed that many had cloths under the engine to protect the ground from oil leaks.
Also in the grounds were some very interesting sculptures scattered around the building offering some surprising views.
To top our visits off we also stopped at the Ford End Watermill which was putting on a demonstration grinding grain into flour with the impressive power of the water in the mill pond that turned the grinding stones and shook the building.
We had a lovely weekend and it was a moving sight as mum and her brother said their goodbyes.
Sea, Sunshine and Pasties…
After mum’s party we loaded up the car and headed west in search of the illusive British summer.
We had arranged to take mum and dad to a little place that we know in the middle of the Devon countryside as a birthday gift. First though we stopped in at Castle Drogo, a grand stately home built when people had the fancy for showing off with a country estate and imposing building. And it was quite a statement too, though you can see with the amount of upkeep required and the tragic story about the family during the war, how it became too much to keep on as times changed and the appetite for ostentatious displays of wealth diminished.
Our present was for an evening at the quaint Nobody Inn at Doddiscombsleigh. A historic old pub in the heart of the countryside with a reputation for hospitality, good food, and whiskey (many hundreds to choose from of which I had to sample a couple).
Refreshed and refuelled we set out the next day for Cornwall stopping on the way at another stately home, Lanhydrock. Another fabulous building that is so over the top that benefits from still having much of the servants wing intact with the large kitchens, bakery, cold rooms, dairy and sculleries open to view. Though it is the grand halls where the family entertained and displayed their wealth and status that were outrageously impressive.
Soon though we were at Perranporth a gem of a place on the Cornish north coast with the sea glistening in the sunshine, the sand glowing golden and the sunbathers’ crimson we had arrived on our summer holiday.
We stayed in the faded and perhaps once plush Ponsmere Hotel situated right on the edge of the beach it commanded a great view across the wide and deep beach. But the hotel was just somewhere to get our head down and we were soon out soaking up the sun’s rays.
During our stay there we met up with family friends who lived there and together we dined at the lovely little Del Mar Italian Restaurant where we enjoyed good food, great company and a little wine too.
One of our favourite places to visit in Perrenporth is the bar on the beach, The Watering Hole sitting on the sand provides an ideal place to while away a few hours drink in hand as you watch the quite amazing sights than choose to wander past in all too little clothing for way too much flesh.
Using our National Trust cards to the max we travelled up the coast to the town shrouded in myth and legend but at Tintagel we did not visit the castle (supposed home of King Arthur) but instead we visited the tiny Old Post Office built before people had invented rulers and straight lines.
The town’s population had swelled as we exited back onto the street, with coach loads of tourists eager to see the ruins of Tintagel Castle. From experience I can say that there really isn’t much there to warrant the trek out to the headland, though the weird shops full of crystals, dragons and other new-age items is quite entertaining to wander around.
So instead we decided to drive off to Padstow, or Pad-Stein as it is known with affection for its well known chef Rick Stein, who owns several establishments there. We had an enjoyable time walking the busy streets and sampled locally made pasties and later an ice-cream by the docks.
On our way back to the hotel we stopped at the delightful little country house of Trerice where they allow you to touch replica items associated with the period when it was built. The chain mail armour was surprisingly heavy.
The next day we had made arrangements with an old friend to meet at her home that looks out across to St Michaels Mount where, after a short catch up, we visited taking the boat out and climbing the steep, uneven path to the towers above. As it was Sunday there was a service in the chapel provided by the bishop. It was another glorious day and by the time we had toured around, had lunch at the small hamlet below; the tide had gone out enough for us to walk back across the causeway. We then had tea and cakes with our host at her house before driving off to see St Ives. Here it was heaving and we could not find a suitable space to stop so we decided to avoid the crowds and try and find a pub we had been brought to some years before that we remembered was quite nice.
In the evening sun the Ferryboat Inn on the banks of the North Helford Passage is more than just nice, it was idyllic. Children played in the water in rowboats, rubber rings, canoes or just splashing about. Sailing boats passed by along the estuary and cruisers motored back. A small ferry took people across from one side to another, to or from the pub. And we sat their soaking it all in. Mum had half a pint of prawns, Sue and dad had fisherman’s platters and I had whitebait and we watched as the sun dipped towards the horizon.
Lost Gardens of Heligan was our first stop on our long journey home. Sue and I had been before but it was some time ago, not long after they had opened it up again and we certainly notice big changes to the gardens, how they had matured and how extra areas were now open to view.
At the nearby Eden Project Sue and I stopped at the café as mum and dad went down to explore the domes (we had been before and didn’t want to spend that much seeing them again).
Our route back was similar to the one down and where we had stopped briefly near Stonehenge on the way down, this time we stopped at the Route 303 Bar ‘n’ Grill, a somewhat different experience but still fun.
Eventually we arrived home safe and sound and happy to fall into our own beds, glad to have finally had our summer holiday.
We had arranged to take mum and dad to a little place that we know in the middle of the Devon countryside as a birthday gift. First though we stopped in at Castle Drogo, a grand stately home built when people had the fancy for showing off with a country estate and imposing building. And it was quite a statement too, though you can see with the amount of upkeep required and the tragic story about the family during the war, how it became too much to keep on as times changed and the appetite for ostentatious displays of wealth diminished.
Our present was for an evening at the quaint Nobody Inn at Doddiscombsleigh. A historic old pub in the heart of the countryside with a reputation for hospitality, good food, and whiskey (many hundreds to choose from of which I had to sample a couple).
Refreshed and refuelled we set out the next day for Cornwall stopping on the way at another stately home, Lanhydrock. Another fabulous building that is so over the top that benefits from still having much of the servants wing intact with the large kitchens, bakery, cold rooms, dairy and sculleries open to view. Though it is the grand halls where the family entertained and displayed their wealth and status that were outrageously impressive.
Soon though we were at Perranporth a gem of a place on the Cornish north coast with the sea glistening in the sunshine, the sand glowing golden and the sunbathers’ crimson we had arrived on our summer holiday.
We stayed in the faded and perhaps once plush Ponsmere Hotel situated right on the edge of the beach it commanded a great view across the wide and deep beach. But the hotel was just somewhere to get our head down and we were soon out soaking up the sun’s rays.
During our stay there we met up with family friends who lived there and together we dined at the lovely little Del Mar Italian Restaurant where we enjoyed good food, great company and a little wine too.
One of our favourite places to visit in Perrenporth is the bar on the beach, The Watering Hole sitting on the sand provides an ideal place to while away a few hours drink in hand as you watch the quite amazing sights than choose to wander past in all too little clothing for way too much flesh.
Using our National Trust cards to the max we travelled up the coast to the town shrouded in myth and legend but at Tintagel we did not visit the castle (supposed home of King Arthur) but instead we visited the tiny Old Post Office built before people had invented rulers and straight lines.
The town’s population had swelled as we exited back onto the street, with coach loads of tourists eager to see the ruins of Tintagel Castle. From experience I can say that there really isn’t much there to warrant the trek out to the headland, though the weird shops full of crystals, dragons and other new-age items is quite entertaining to wander around.
So instead we decided to drive off to Padstow, or Pad-Stein as it is known with affection for its well known chef Rick Stein, who owns several establishments there. We had an enjoyable time walking the busy streets and sampled locally made pasties and later an ice-cream by the docks.
On our way back to the hotel we stopped at the delightful little country house of Trerice where they allow you to touch replica items associated with the period when it was built. The chain mail armour was surprisingly heavy.
The next day we had made arrangements with an old friend to meet at her home that looks out across to St Michaels Mount where, after a short catch up, we visited taking the boat out and climbing the steep, uneven path to the towers above. As it was Sunday there was a service in the chapel provided by the bishop. It was another glorious day and by the time we had toured around, had lunch at the small hamlet below; the tide had gone out enough for us to walk back across the causeway. We then had tea and cakes with our host at her house before driving off to see St Ives. Here it was heaving and we could not find a suitable space to stop so we decided to avoid the crowds and try and find a pub we had been brought to some years before that we remembered was quite nice.
In the evening sun the Ferryboat Inn on the banks of the North Helford Passage is more than just nice, it was idyllic. Children played in the water in rowboats, rubber rings, canoes or just splashing about. Sailing boats passed by along the estuary and cruisers motored back. A small ferry took people across from one side to another, to or from the pub. And we sat their soaking it all in. Mum had half a pint of prawns, Sue and dad had fisherman’s platters and I had whitebait and we watched as the sun dipped towards the horizon.
Lost Gardens of Heligan was our first stop on our long journey home. Sue and I had been before but it was some time ago, not long after they had opened it up again and we certainly notice big changes to the gardens, how they had matured and how extra areas were now open to view.
At the nearby Eden Project Sue and I stopped at the café as mum and dad went down to explore the domes (we had been before and didn’t want to spend that much seeing them again).
Our route back was similar to the one down and where we had stopped briefly near Stonehenge on the way down, this time we stopped at the Route 303 Bar ‘n’ Grill, a somewhat different experience but still fun.
Eventually we arrived home safe and sound and happy to fall into our own beds, glad to have finally had our summer holiday.
Carrot Cake and Cava…
Part of the plans when my parents decided to visit us in the UK was to arrange for a birthday party at our house for mum’s 70th where we would play host and invite family and friends over so that they could all catch up and enjoy celebrating the big occasion.
The previous weekend we had been at Paul’s 50th where we ate fine butchered meets from his new BBQ (a present from the gang), drink too much, sang karaoke and wore silly hats (or a lampshade if you want to be particular). The weather that weekend was changeable, as it has been all summer, and so good use was made of gazebos and marquees. Such a good idea it was that we stole it along with one of the gazebos (with permission) that we re-erected on our deck for mums party.
Along with the gazebo we moved the dining room table and chairs around so that we had plenty of space for the 30 or so guests who turned up to enjoy the spread that many helped us with, the carrot cake that Sue made and for those who wished it a glass or two of fizzy cava.
The previous weekend we had been at Paul’s 50th where we ate fine butchered meets from his new BBQ (a present from the gang), drink too much, sang karaoke and wore silly hats (or a lampshade if you want to be particular). The weather that weekend was changeable, as it has been all summer, and so good use was made of gazebos and marquees. Such a good idea it was that we stole it along with one of the gazebos (with permission) that we re-erected on our deck for mums party.
Along with the gazebo we moved the dining room table and chairs around so that we had plenty of space for the 30 or so guests who turned up to enjoy the spread that many helped us with, the carrot cake that Sue made and for those who wished it a glass or two of fizzy cava.
Beer and Hankies…
Once more we took to the road with the Aldbury Morris (men behaving badly with hankies, sticks, bells and baldrics) on their annual trip, this time to Royal Tunbridge Wells accompanied by my parents as well.
We stayed at the very nice Royal Wells Hotel that sits on a hill overlooking the historic town. It is an old hotel with plenty of history itself and it has been tastefully updated and is well run.
On the first evening as people were gathering there was no formal arrangements other than to meet in the pub next door with instruments and voices at the ready for the usual drinking sing along and catch up with old faces (getting older every year).
The next morning after breakfast and a few dances outside the hotel the motley group processed to Calverley Park (the long way around) and to the coffee shop in the middle where a few more dances were had, coffee and tea drunk, before moving on to the Grove Tavern situated in the old part of town where winding cobbled streets were lined with grand old houses. More dancing, this time accompanied with beer from the tavern to slake their thirst and then onto the Duke of York in the Pantiles a fine pub in the lovely old shopping parade of the town with fabulous shops of interesting goods, market stalls and alleys and avenues with tantalising views of closed courtyards beyond.
After a superb lunch at the pub we continued down through the town until we reached the old Spa Valley Railway, there with the assistance of our local contact we boarded a fine old steam train for a short journey a few stops down the line where they danced on the Groombridge platform before returning and dancing some more at the Tunbridge Wells end of the line.
We then walked up to the The Barn where we took a breather and had another drink (or two) before continuing across the common to the secluded Mount Edgcumbe Bistro and Bar, another classy and quirky establishment – with its rock hewn snug and cardboard stags head decoration. This was the last dance spot of the day and many were happy to stagger back to the hotel for a rest.
The dinner was in the first floor conservatory dining area of the hotel that previously that day had been used for a wedding (the guest being now downstairs by the bar in the finery before they went through to the reception dance). We had a great meal and after a few words the tables were cleared and more music and song took us on into the night.
The next morning we drove off towards the other end of the Spa Valley line where the side danced for bemused train enthusiasts before we took another train journey down to High Rocks, a grand hotel where there we sheltered from a shower in the bar before returning.
As people made their way home it had been arranged that we meet at the Halfway House, and fine old drinking establishment with an impressive array of ales on tap and an equally impressive buffet to help soak them up. The final few dances were done as the sun came out again and we said our farewells as we all headed home looking forward to the next year’s outing.
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