This evening I met up with old acquaintances from the RUH. It was the leaving party for the two RA Agents, Doug and Adrian.
We started the night with a trip to The Ocean Pearl – an ‘all you can eat’ Chinese restaurant, or as I liked to refer to it – ‘eat as much as you can’.
Being a fussy eater, I stuck mostly to noodles, green beans and chips – followed by vast quantities of ice cream and jelly. As someone pointed out, I could have ordered a roast dinner from a nearby pub and had a similar meal.
I think I got my money’s worth, though, and hopefully cost them more than the £11.50 I paid to dine there.
After consuming nearly the whole restaurant, we went out for a few drinks, which I struggled with due to the large meal earlier!
It’ll probably be a good idea to go to bed now. Despite being home for over an hour, I’ve stayed up messing about on the laptop and chatting on MSN. Bath City are away in Basingstoke tomorrow, so I’ll need sleep before I travel.
This was much of a non-event. The evening’s festivities began with a trip to Nandos. A place I fully intend to visit a lot throughout 2010, after learning that as an NHS employee, I receive a 20% discount.
After chicken, we went to The Dolphin. I was there for NYE 2 years ago and the pub was heaving. This time around, it couldn’t have been any more different. There can’t have been more than 15 people in the whole pub. We only realised it was midnight when a small cheer came from the other side of the bar and a few pathetic fireworks were noticed out the window. Needless to say, I went home shortly after midnight.
The party didn’t go as the pub planned
I hosted John at ‘Château de Sean’ as having consumed alcohol in the most boring New Years Eve ever, was unable to drive back to Wells. In the morning we went to McDonalds for breakfast. As we arrived at the 10.30am breakfast deadline, we were lucky enough to be given the choice between burgers or brekkie. Unlike John and fellow diners, I went for a burger. By my reckoning, this makes me the first person to have a Double Cheeseburger in 2010 – at least in the Twerton branch of the restaurant.
My cheeseburger wasn’t quite as well presented as this
The trip to McDonalds didn’t go as well for everyone. One customer, a bloke who sounded like one of the Gallagher brothers, appeared rather upset when he was told the breakfast menu had stopped. The thought of missing out on an Egg McMuffin obviously caused the poor chap great distress, as he felt the need to shout and abuse the McDonalds staff. I believe he got his breakfast in the end – probably with added saliva and armpit hair, courtesy of the chef. Couldn’t happen to a nicer person.
Last night, I joined Simon and his friend Tim for a post-Christmas Day drink. We went to The Boathouse, which was virtually deserted apart from the barman and his mate.
Having started their drinking hours before me in town, Simon and Tim entered into a ferocious football debate about what constitutes a ‘great’ football manager. It turns our Rafa Benitez is one (but only for his work at Valencia). José Mourinho is not (despite various league titles and a Champions League winner’s medal) and Arsène Wenger is not great, however is better than Rafa, who is great…
Confused? I certainly was, but took amusement from watching some slightly intoxicated football fans argue. However, being the peacemaker I am, I managed to diffuse to situation and get everyone to agree that, should he win the World Cup, Fabio Capello is the greatest living manager – better than Rafa, José, Arsène and the bloke who manages Accrington Stanley.
Due to their earlier alcohol intake, the two glasses of wine my fellow drinkers consumed was enough for them to call time on the pub; stumbling home to the warmth of their beds. Having not drank earlier, I was slightly disappointed at only being permitted two pints of beer; although awaking this morning, feeling as fresh as a newly bloomed daisy was nice.
The walk home seemed to take forever, mainly as Tim found the conditions freezing cold. Despite having ice all over the pavement, I surprisingly didn’t suffer the same reaction to the subzero temperatures and was able to tolerate the winters night. I guess it proves alcohol does lower your blood temperature. Either that or the extra layers I was wearing or Christmas weight I may have gained help to insulate me from the elements.
A photo from the walk home (yes, really)
Last night I went with Simon on a pub crawl… well if 2 pubs and 2 pints can constitute that.
Being adventurous, we decided on a change of scene to The Dolphin, so went to The Weston – the pub that used to be good a few years ago, despite the windows being smashed and the toilets overflowing; but is now rubbish, posh and overpriced.
Despite now being a rubbish pub, The Weston was surprisingly busy. There was a live singer, but I don’t think the revellers where there to enjoy his music. Dubbed ‘the human jukebox’, he was unable to fulfil requests. I passed the time by playing Britain’s Got Talent, pretending to be Simon Cowell, buzzing him off.
After we had finished our drinks, it was accepted we had made a mistake in trusting The Weston, and went back to the more familiar surroundings of The Dolphin – the plan being to end our evening with a nice, quiet drink by the canal. Unfortunately, Ricky Ponting’s prayers were answered and the heavens opened, producing an almighty downpour.
Although we were only out in the shower for a matter of seconds – the time taken to run from our table back into the pub – we were still drenched, with our pint glasses becoming almost fully refilled – unfortunately with rain water.
The rest of my weekend was spent watching The Ashes, while working on a PHP script which allows me to produce status updates for my blog (see the top right of the main page). I have also found myself wasting far too much time on the Farm Town app on Facebook – stupid, addictive games!
Up until the football match started, I had an enjoyable away day in London yesterday…
We left a Bath on a sunny afternoon and made our way east towards London.
I haven’t been to London that many times in my life. Every time I do go, I am always amazed at the shear size of the place. The buildings seem to go on forever. There isn’t a hill, field or tree in sight – in fact the only blades of grass I saw were on the football pitch – very different from the Bath, which is surrounded by rolling countryside.
I was very surprised by the traffic in London – or lack of it. We made our way off the M4 and proceeded towards and through Chelsea with shear ease. Baring in mind this was rush hour, I was amazed we didn’t get held up.
I didn’t like the look of London and wouldn’t ever like to live there, although Chelsea seemed very nice. It did, however, also look very expensive and I think the only way I could afford to live in Chelsea would be if I played for Chelsea F.C.
I believe I was very close to when my Bath-exiled friend, Daniel Hobart, lives. It would have been nice to have found him, missed the football match and spent the evening with him. On hindsight, I probably should have done just that.
My iPhone went berserk in London city centre. There were so many WiFi access points, I was constantly being offered 20+ networks to connect to as the coach drove through the capital city. I turned the feature off in the end as the constant interruptions made using the web browser impossible.
We arrived at the ground at 6ish. With the ground locked shut and almost 2 hours before kick off, we made our way to a local pub to get a couple of pints. Another stereotypical London view of mine was also quashed. The rumour that you can only buy beer by the bottle and not the pint, and have to pay £6 a time, proved unfounded.
The pub, Hoopers, was very nice and I could have quite happily stayed there all night. After watching a dire Bath City performance, I wish I had of stayed behind drinking.
After drinks, we made our way to the ground.
Then everything went bad. The end.