What To Watch?

I need your help.

My wife is going away for a while with the kids shortly (don't worry, they're coming back!) and I shall have around two weeks on my own in the house. Now one thing I am very bad at, apart from putting my socks in the laundry basket, is watching films. So this is a perfect opportunity to catch up - but of the hundreds of possibilities out there, where to start?

In my forthcoming 'man-time', allowing for football matches & beer consumption as well as still actually having to go to work, I reckon a target of half a dozen good films is not unreasonable. They're probably going to be ones that Solveig won't be bothered about and I'll save any animated films to watch with the kids but other than that I have free rein. I think I'd like to see 'Inglourious Basterds' and I'm fairly sure I don't want to bother with 'The Road' but after that I'm open to suggestions.

What would you watch on your own in the house? Suggest away!

Thank You For The Days

Just back from a wonderful weekend away; a birthday treat from my excellent wife Solveig (in conjunction with the as-per-usual top-notch babysitting services provided by mum & dad, for which much thanks are due).

Having nipped off early on Friday afternoon and taken the appropriate exit off the M4 (indeed, we had to Turn After Reading*), we headed for the picturesque Goring-on-Thames in which nestles The Miller Of Mansfield, as recommended on Mr & Mrs Smith. Really nice little 'boutique' pub hotel with a fantastic restaurant (do try the shin of beef, it was as melty as it gets) as well as a snug bar with a log fire and a decent selection of gins. We realised when we arrived that we had somehow forgotten how to relax; indeed, it took a while for us to stop wondering where on earth the kids were. But unwind we did and with some walks along the (thin end of the) Thames and a trip up to Bicester on the Saturday, it was a properly brilliant break from the Smoke.

Due to good planning, we also squeezed in an extra treat on the way back, in the form of a visit to Heston Blumenthal's pub in Bray, the Hind's Head (in fact, as we were a bit early, we went looking for the Fat Duck, but somehow never found it!) and what a treat it was. We were tempted by the Sunday roast, but both decided on pies, having been advised by a few people that they were worth the journey. We did start with a Scotch (quail's) egg each, though, and these were splendid - by turns crispy, meaty and perfectly soft:

For our mains we had Shepherds Pie (with lamb leg, breast and sweetbreads topped with mustard mash) and Spinach & Mushroom Pie (served with a Jerusalem artichoke sauce). They were both outstanding and tasted as good as they look:

After a full weekend of indulgence, we simply couldn't face dessert, so we'll just have to go back and try the rest of the menu at some point. Right, dear?

Anyway, what a brilliant weekend - almost enough to make me forget that next year is THAT ONE :)

* I'm truly sorry, I really am

What I Done On My Holidays #6

Today I was mostly being stung by wasps:

Followed by trying to light a BBQ in a monsoon:

Actually it was a quite amazing thunderstorm; when they get weather in Cahors, it does not mess about. A few hours of all hell breaking loose and calm descended once again. Which was handy for the drive to the airport...

...yes, our sojourn to the wonderful forest near La Vallée du Lot has come to an end*. Freyja said she wanted "one more day"; Theo did his now-famous fish impression. It's been lovely though. Same time next year, everyone?

* so this time, easyJet managed to happily check us in despite the 40 minute cut-off having passed, put us on Speedy Boarding for free because we had two kids under 4 and get us to Gatwick (early) with all our luggage unbroken. So am I still hopping mad about the 3-hour delay on the way out? Heh, what do you think...

What I Done On My Holidays #5

The French attitude to parking can only be described as one of 'angry disdain'.

Sometimes it is nothing more than stopping in the middle of the road and getting out, even on motorways. On other occasions, they will happily turn sharply onto a zebra crossing, mount the pavement at a jaunty angle and exit the vehicle by any of the available doors, including the boot. Car parks are easily spotted, not by the traditional 'P' signage but by the scattergun approach to alignment taken by the customers. In fact, if it looks like an East End scrapyard specialising only in Peugeots, Renaults & Citroens, it's almost certainly a French car park.

Cahors is no different, being as it is a medieval town with a massive river through the centre of it and definitely not designed for easy motoring. As such, parking spaces are at a premium and are a) very small and b) surrounded by car-unfriendly obstacles such as ancient trees, lamp posts and riverside benches. Throw into the mix an almost-brand-new hire car with a €1000 excess and yours truly had a certain amount of sweat on, attempting this little manoeuvre in the 35 degree midday heat:

Nailed it though. Even Freyja (yes, that's her, sitting by the tree) applauded.

What I Done On My Holidays #4

After being informed that blogging about your holiday was insensitive to those affected by the worst recession for 50 years, I spent today taking pictures of the sky. As literally both my avid followers will know, last year I posted about of the bluest sky I had ever seen, directly overhead whilst I was in the swimming pool at Lascombe:

This afternoon, 359 days later, it was almost identical:

I say almost because today was one degree hotter at 35C; I wonder what Klein would have said about that? My best guess is:

"Merde, il fait chaud."

What I Done On My Holidays #3

One of the benefits of having been a wind instrumentalist in my youth is a pretty decent lung capacity. As such, on any holiday involving water, it inevitably falls to me to inflate a wide variety of lilos, floats, dinghies and beach balls as required by those present.

So far today, I have given the kiss of life to a medium blue lilo, an In The Night Garden beach ball, a round floating baby seat and a giant multicoloured snake. And what better way to spend a sunny afternoon that by attempting to run across the pool using them as a rudimentary technicolour pontoon:

In seven attempts, I didn't make it once (in my defence, I think the lilo has a leak...)

What I Done On My Holidays #2

The house in France is lovely, but the cooker is over twenty years old and takes about eleven days to heat up to a temperature only vaguely near the one you selected. As such, we tend to BBQ a lot: confit de canard, saucisses de Toulouse, épaule de sanglier and that traditional rural French dish, chicken tikka :)

The latter was on the menu for tonight, so fire was required:

Oh, and there's none of that charcoal malarky - this is purely a wood burning affair. And bloody delicious it was too.

What I Done On My Holidays #1

Today was spent getting more and more furious at easyJet's apparent failure to realise that to run an airline with any genuine intention of getting your paying customers* from A to B - in this case, Gatwick to Toulouse - you are actually going to need what is commonly known as a PLANE. One that works. And is where it is supposed to be, when it is supposed to be there.

Scheduled departure time 0940; actual departure time 1300. FFS. Still, at least I now know all the Mr Men books off by heart...

* and none of that 'You get what you pay for' nonsense; these flights were the same price as BA charged us last year, but who no longer offer Gatwick to Toulouse, the bastards.

Anything To Declare?

Yes - that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is how you pack for two weeks in the South of France. I shall have limited access to the interweb for the next fortnight and when I do, I will mostly be checking the score in the Third Ashes Test from Edgbaston. Happy days...