Sunday, September 28, 2008

My fabulous weekend.

I have had a fabulous weekend. Fabulous, I tells ya. Saturday was the Grand Final, and although I'm not remotely a fan of football, the team I 'go for if I have to barrack for someone' won. I'll explain more of that later.

Yesterday was just a blast. Chef and I decided to head to Arthurs Seat, a tourist attraction vaguely near us that has a giant chair lift going up a hill to look over the Peninsular we live on. Unfortunately, it shut down two years ago when it sort of fell over with people on board and squashed a few kids (or some such, I didn't pay too much attention at the time) and they'd obviously failed to mention that on their website. I wasn't too shattered - considering I sobbed on the floor of the only ferris wheel I've been on for the entire ride and refused point blank to look for fear I'd wet myself - and instead found a sign stating 'Horse Trail Rides: 4k'. Well, naturally I had to follow the sign, and it lead to, funnily enough, a horse trail riding facility where I am booked in for a 14km ride in a fortnight. We noticed, next door to said venue, a lovely looking British pub adjoining a winery, which is where we'd actually planned to have lunch when we looked at places online. Several hours later, a pint of Guiness and a pint of Tetleys, a pot of tea, a slice of Mississipi Mud Cake and a Cornish pastie later, I was more than happy to sing along to The Beatles and quietly doze off in a corner for several hours. Instead, I had a short nap, then joined Seah, Tezz and Jon and their dogs down the beach for a sunset stroll, then went for ice cream for dessert. All in all... a splendid way to spend the weekend!

It was a tough choice between the Pig & Whistle or New York, but a pint of Irelands finest seemed like a hard thing to pass up at the time.

Although the weather was supposed to be a muggy 20 something degrees, it was somewhat chilly up the top of the hill, so I chose a cosy nook inside instead of the braver option of sitting out. I didn't regret it.

I spent a good, long time checking out all the fabulous things on the walls, especially this map of London (complete with yelling "Been There!" every time I spotted somewhere familiar). The sign to the left said: 'Hello? Pig & Whistle Pub?" [yes?] Thank goodness I got through in time!" which I liked so much I wanted to sneak it home with me.

Chef ordering me another pint like the good lad he is.

The little nook where we ate our deliciously British lunch. (The man in the photo kept looking at me strangely as I quietly snap, snap snapped all these photos. "Tourists", I heard him mutter under his breath. I shrugged and kept on with my happy snaps).


A cup of tea to wash my cake down, and a pint to wash that down. Ahhh, Heaven. Actually, I practically fell asleep after my first pint of Guiness and therefore changed to Tetley's. It does make me wonder slightly how I could down 6 pints in the space of a football match and still be awake.

The view from halfway up the hill. It would have been amazing on the chairlift.

I live around 15km to the left of this photo. So the man in the pub wasn't awfully correct when he said I was a tourist, but hell, I wanted some photos to blog about! Aren't you glad I didn't take offense?

The chairlift at standstill.

Running of the dogs at the beach in the evening.

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