Sunday and Monday

We had ordered breakfast for 09:00 on Sunday morning, so that we could be away in good time, and were away before 10:00.  We needed petrol, but Madame in the hotel didn't seem to know about any 24-hour stations at supermarkets (French petrol is far, far cheaper in the supermarkets than anywhere else, even a service station across the road from the supermarket), but said there was one open on our way out, so we filled up there (and of course found a plethora of supermarkets on our way out of town, so typical).

We were on our way to a little town called Lezay, where we were to meet a very old friend - in the sense that I have known her for over 40 years, not that she is particularly elderly - who lives in that area, and had recommended this restaurant called l'Assiette for lunch.  We had plenty of time so decided to drive on the N and D roads, which are, of course, a lot slower, but arguably more interesting - although on the outskirts of towns one does get a little bored of the endless supermarkets and "zones industrielles" lining the roads, and the satnav's endless instructions to "Cross the Roundabout; 2nd exit".  However, we also went through some beautiful countryside on what were archetypal - or did we mean stereotypical, we couldn't decide - French roads, very straight with trees either side.

We arrived at the restaurant shortly after our friend, and after a good meal we went back to hers, where we were spending the night.  We took the dog out for a walk, rejoicing in the lighter evenings, France being an hour later than we are (although it doesn't try to get light before 08:00, which must be thoroughly depressing when you have to go to work in the dark for three months of the year).  And watched a bit of British television, and ate supper, and then talked and talked and talked until the wee small hours, just as we had done forty-odd years ago!

All too soon we had to leave next morning.  The hotel had very kindly telephoned us to say that the Swan Whisperer had left his alarm clock behind, so we had to call in there en route.  We also wanted to go back a slightly cheaper route than we had come, which had cost the best part of €50 in motorway tolls, so we went via Chartres, or the outskirts thereof, which is arguably slightly slower, but very much cheaper as there is little or no toll motorway, but quite a lot of dual carriageway.

The journey seemed, to me, practically endless!  We ended up with plenty of time to shop in Auchan and then a quick bite to eat in Buffalo Grill before getting our planned Shuttle home, but that last two hours.... oh dear.... and I wasn't even driving!  I love to see my friend, and if we go to Tours again it does seem silly not to go and see her, when she is only a couple of hours away, but it does make for a very, very long day's driving home.

Long Day

The competition started at 08:00, but as we were not involved in the first session, we ordered breakfast for 8.15, and didn't get to the rink until 09:00. To find, of course, that things were running slightly late, but they always do, and the delay wasn't bad. We also found that we were the only foreigners, as the Austrian couple who had planned to give the Masters skates a run for their money had withdrawn.

The Swan Whisperer was skating after the break, doing Bronze solo dances. We realised when he was warming up the 14-step that he was fairly obviously the weakest skater in the group, and he duly came 5th out of 5. However, his European was good, for him, and another skater had a disaster trying to make it one lobe instead of the two everybody else had sensibly settled for. So the SW was Not Last, which, considering he is at least 20 years older than any of his competition, was very gratifying.

Lunch was provided at the rink, and after it we went back to the hotel for a break. I fell asleep and then had indigestion caused by Too Much Cheese at lunch (well there was a fantastic cheeseboard), so stayed in while the SW went for a walk. Finally it was time to go back to the rink and get ready to skate out free dance.

We already knew we had no competition, but we wanted to see what sort of marks we would get, with a view to skating at Oberstdorf if we scored about 8 or thereabouts, which is normal for us. The ice was hard and fast, and I found it scary and didn't think we skated that will. We fluffed the spin, and I rushed the highlight after the step sequence, and didn't even try to be on one foot while the SW did his spiral. So imagine our delight when the scored were announced - not the 5 or 6 I thought it deserved, not even 8 or - wildest dreams 10 - but 14·32! A personal best by a mile! Oberstdorf, here we come!

After that, there was (a stiff drink and) a lot of hanging about until the presentations, after which we got changed and went to find a restaurant that would do us a meal after 10:00 pm, and fortunately there was one just found the corner from the hotel. Not exactly cheap, but seriously worth it - I had the most delicious fish, and a beer. And so back to the hotel, and bed. And trying to wind down from an exhausting day.

First trip of 2014, Day One

I'm sure I've already used the heading "A weekend in France" and if I have not, I might want it again. So today was the start of our long weekend mini-break to compete at the Coupe de Druides, which this year is dance-only and is being held in Tours.

This meant getting up early to leave by shortly after 7:00 am, not helped by an attack of cystitis, fortunately not severe, but enough to wake me several times in the night. We made our booked crossing, which always feels slightly like a failure, as it feels we've won if we get on an earlier one. But we had 20 minutes to wait in the terminal, enough to buy a new road atlas and for me to discover where I should have bought a new travel hairdryer - the one I bought on Amazon is practically full-size.

Smooth journey, stopping three times, and arriving at the hotel about 6:00 on. Hotel is really lovely, just the kind of place I like. Very warm welcome, large, comfortable beds, and somehow very French. Also cheap!

After a cup of tea (not provided but I brought my trusty travel kettle), we went out for a walk and found the rink, and then looked for a restaurant. Found a very nice one called L'Entracte, not far from the hotel, and had a delicious, if meat-heavy, meal.
Then wandered back to the hotel and a relatively early night.

Travelling First Class

I had never travelled First Class in my life before last Saturday, when I went up to Crewe for the day.  Now that I have a Senior Railcard, the Weekend First option was not impossibly expensive, and I thought I would treat myself.

The outward journey was via London Midland, a train company I had not used before and, frankly, I don't think I mind if I never use them again!  I would have regretted paying for a First Class ticket had the train not been so full as to be standing-room only between London and Stoke-on-Trent.  The seats were no bigger or more comfortable than in standard class, and the compartment was not at one end of the train so there were a constant stream of people walking through trying to find either a seat or a lavatory that was working (in vain!).  And it was COLD!  The heating seemed to have been turned off in favour of the air-conditioning!  At least in First Class I had a seat and nobody sat next to me so I could spread out a bit.  Plus I could plug in my phone while listening to Saturday morning radio (via Internet, which ate my data rather, but I couldn't get a signal on the FM bands).   Nobody checked my ticket at all - good thing I'm honest - although the guard did say there was an inspector on the train and First Class Tickets Would Be Checked.  They weren't.  On the whole I was not very impressed.

I was, however, very impressed with the facilities at Crewe station, which were both clean and free to use, not a common combination.

My time in Crewe was lovely, apart from being severely hailed on just before I arrived - I had gone to attend a friend's husband's induction to the Pastorate of a Baptist church, and there were other friends there, too, which was great.  After a lovely tea, some kind people let me share their taxi to the station - it had stopped raining and I would happily have walked, but it was nice not to have to.

Then the First Class really kicked in.  I was able to go to the First Class lounge which was very comfortable and had free Wifi and was warm and clean.  I made myself a cup of Earl Grey to drink while I waited.  I was going home with Virgin Trains, and as the train was non-stop the waitress suggested I sat where I pleased, so I had a lovely four-seat bay all to myself.  I didn't want any tea or coffee, but did have an orange juice, although I passed on the snack box, having had a huge tea.  Really, I should have had one and eaten it another time....

Virgin trains were blissfully comfortable and had free WiFi, and plugs, so I turned on my phone's maps and had great fun watching the train careering through the countryside.  Well, while I was awake, that is.  I did sleep between Stafford and Milton Keynes!  The only blight on the journey was that the train was rather late, the earlier storms had caused some damage to the overhead lines.  But when you are sitting snug and warm and it is dark outside, this doesn't really matter!

Virgin Trains did cost about twice as much as London Midland, and you can quite see why.  I am not sure whether I would travel First Class again - certainly not on Southern or South-Eastern, it really isn't worth it.  If I could get a decent bargain on Virgin, though... well, their First Class is worth it!

A visit to the Museum of London Docklands

I had always wanted to go to the Museum of London Docklands, and finally had the opportunity to take my elder grandson, the Boy, now 3½ .  We met up at Westfield Stratford City, and after coffee and Babycinos we left the Daughter and Boy Too with her friends and their babies of roughly the same age as Boy Too, while the Boy and I made ourselves comfortable (he loved, as I knew he would, the loos in the parent/child room there, which have a big one and a little one in the same space so you can pee comfortably together, and then two wash-basins at varying heights so you can wash your hands together, too.  But there was no way to dry them ("We'll have to shake!" said the Boy) until you got out and there were some paper towels in the nappy-changing area.

We set off on the DLR to West India Quay and then walked to the Museum. I thought at first we had gone the wrong way, but Google navigation soon confirmed we were right.  However, when we arrived it was about 11:30 am and we were told that the children's play area - which is very, very well-reviewed - did not open until 2:00. We hired an activity backpack, but much of the stuff was too young for him - a couple of very easy puzzles, and a book that he dismissed, scornfully, as suitable for his baby brother.  There were some binoculars, though, which he loved, a friendly dolphin finger puppet, ditto, and some shapes which you were supposed to match, but he didn't fancy that.

I think I would have enjoyed the museum better without him.  It wasn't very suitable for young children, as there was an awful lot of reading, and I think you had to know about things coming in big ships and how they used to come to London.  However, he liked the mock-up of Old London Bridge, and showed me which house he would like to live in!  And he liked a lot of the model ships, and was very, very brave when it came to Sailortown, a reconstruction of how the sailors would have lived back in the day, which was very dark and gloomy and spooky, and he hated it, so we came out - and then he insisted on going back in for another go, even though it was scary. He also loved - so did I - the boxes of spices, tea, coffee and sugar that were there to be looked at and sniffed and identified.  The cloves smelt gorgeous!

We had a very disappointing lunch in the café - expensive and my salad was incredibly dry and nasty, and my tomato quiche was very odd, although not unpleasant.  I wish I'd chosen a sandwich that looked nice, but it didn't happen.  The Boy had a "kiddies' sandwich" - cheese in white bread - and a pirate chocolate (we thought it was cheese) which was disappointing by being merely a lump of chocolate, not printed like the chocolate coins he got for Christmas and has been enjoying.

Then we went back home via the DLR, the Central Line and the W16 bus, and arrived home a good 45 minutes before the others.  "I expect Mummy's doing boring shopping!" said the Boy.  So we made ourselves drinks and another cheese sandwich as we were still hungry.  Not the most satisfactory day out ever, alas, but not the worst.

Bussing round the town

A young cousin is visiting from South Africa and has been staying with us for a couple of days.  December is not the nicest time to be visiting London, and it can be a bit daunting if you don't know where to start, so I suggested we do a round trip on the buses, so he could see some of the main sights.

We started off on a 35, which you can catch from outside my block of flats.  This took us via Camberwell and Walworth to the Elephant, and then to London Bridge station, crossing London Bridge and then up Bishopsgate, passing the Monument and the far side of the Bank of England, to Liverpool Street Station, where we got off.  We walked through the station to the bus station at the other side, and got on a no 11 - now a Boris-bus - at the start of its route.

I have to say, I wasn't very impressed by the Boris bus.  The interior is all dark red, mimicking the original Routemasters before they were refurbished, and the lights pretend to be like them, too, only of course they are modern halogen bulbs, not the incandescent bulbs of days gone by.  If you get on at the front, it just feels like an ordinary bus, only it is less comfortable, I thought.  The ride quality was good, but the seats were hard and not nearly as comfortable as the 35 we had just left.  Of course, when you want to get off you can do so at the back, or you can, I believe, get on that way, too.  But that doesn't impinge - it's not an obvious thing to do with it, although I suppose it is different if you are catching it along the course of its route.

Which, of course, is ideal for tourists.  The bus goes back down to Bank, this time passing the front of the Bank of England, and then along past St Paul's Cathedral, down Ludgate Hill, along Fleet Street and the Strand  passing King's College and Somerset House.  I kept expecting it to turn left over Waterloo Bridge, but of course it was not a 59 so it didn't!  It went straight on, past Charing Cross Station with its eponymous cross, to Trafalgar Square, and then down Whitehall, passing Horse Guards, Downing Street, the Banqueting House, the Cenotaph and so on, to Parliament Square, where you can see the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, St Margaret's Westminster and so on (including Central Hall and the Middlesex Guildhall which is now Westminster Crown Court).  The bus then goes up Victoria Street on its way to Chelsea and Fulham, but we got off at Victoria, and caught a no 2 back to Brixton.

The 2 goes over Vauxhall Bridge, and then down South Lambeth Road to Stockwell and thence to Brixton, but it was dark by then, and one couldn't see a great deal.  And then it was raining, so we got a P5 home.

Inter-faith evening

This evening, instead of a Fellowship meeting, some of us went to a local Mosque, the Hyderi Islamic Centre, who were staging a play about Wahab, a Christian who had been killed while fighting on behalf of Husayn ibn Ali at the Battle of Karbala.  I had never been to a Mosque before while it was "in use", and never to one in this country.

It was interesting.  We went with another couple from Church, and I remembered to wear a hijab (I do have several scarves that can be worn that way) - it was a bit brightly-coloured, as most people wore black, but nobody minded that.  My friend had also brought a scarf, but we noticed they had a tactful supply of spares out in the lobby in case anybody hadn't one.  We were made very welcome, and given doughnuts and tea, and there was also a bright pink lassi type of drink being served.  Then the menfolk went off in one direction, and we went in another, to a large cloakroom where one could leave one's coat and shoes, and then into the "women's hall".

As we were there to watch a play, we were led into the main "men's hall", where 1/3 had been coned off for the women by a divider made of low benches, and everybody crowded together.  It wasn't as stuffy as you might think, because there were fans and some were switched on.  Chairs were provided for us visitors, so we had a good view.  It took forever for everybody to get settled and ready to start, but eventually it did. 

The play itself was put on by a youth group from Leicester, and it was presented as a very radical way of presenting the story.  It wasn't desperately well done, as you would expect from an amateur group, and the play itself was interspersed with scenes of a film from the same story.  However, it was very interesting, as the story was new to us.

When it was over, there was a "rubbing-in" sermon, basically saying that Husayn-ibn-Ali stood for justice and equality for all, and this standard was something that people of all faiths and none should aspire to.

I suppose we Christians have always had our tradition of Mystery plays and so on - probably because we were a LOT less literate than the Muslims ever were!  So we slightly take for granted that our stories can be presented in this sort of way, whereas it's new to them.  In the film, it was noticeable that the face of Husayne ibn Ali was blanked out as Muslims don't "do" representations of their holy saints. 

After it was over, we were led back to the women's hall and fed chicken and rice, and then we decided we had to go, and went out to the lobby where our menfolk - who had NOT eaten - were waiting for us!

Apparently the Mosque also does inter-faith meetings during Ramadan, when Jewish, Christian and Muslim leaders all get together and talk about their faith and its practices.  This sounds as though it would be very interesting indeed, and I hope we get asked.