Wednesday 16 September 2009

Met up with some of my old team from CfBT after work on Friday to raise a glass to our colleague Ginette, who tragically died last week.

On Saturday dragged Ruth around a few local sites courtesy of Heritage Open Days 2009. We visited two churches in the morning, St Bartholomew's and St Luke’s, which together form a joint parish. St Bart's is used not only by a CofE congregation (they appear to use the Nave) but also by Greek Orthodox and Serbian Orthodox congregations (who use the Chancel – this had icons and decorative bits and pieces dotted about). The pulpit at St Bartholomew's was apparently the anonymous gift of two ladies who carved it themselves - Ruth and I were amused at the anonymity aspect and had visions of two elderly ladies smuggling a pulpit into the church under cover of darkness. St Luke's - the left-hand picture on the joint parish homepage - is a more imposing and coherent-looking building, probably thanks to being designed by just one architect (James Piers St Aubyn) as opposed to being a collection of add-ons.

We were welcomed at both churches by a few elderly members of the congregation who were so pleased to see us one suspected that they were having a quiet day. One chap at St Luke's even pursued me down the street to ask whether we were interested in seeing inside the church hall as well.

Had an hour to kill so descended on our friend Helen for a refreshing drink before heading to the Royal Berks to see the Medical Museum, part of the Berkshire Medical Heritage Centre. The museum, tucked away at basement level in the former hospital laundry, is a fascinating if gruesome collection of medical equipment and memorabilia. Some of the old obstetric and dental equipment is particularly unpleasant - thank God for progress - and an 'aerial' shot of what must have been close-on 100 patients in iron lungs was pretty sobering.

On the way out, I noticed a corridor going off to the left in the direction of the main hospital building and got to wondering about the no-doubt fascinating maze of underground tunnels that probably runs under the buildings. Found myself wishing for an alternative Heritage Open Day offering tours of underground tunnels and abandoned buildings - I'm sure it would draw an audience. My suggestions for an Alternative Heritage Open Day for Reading would be:

• The suspected sub-hospital catacombs, as mentioned above
  
• The disused Mecca Bingo above the (very) disused bus station. The bingo hall has been closed since 2003; the bus station underneath it has been abandoned for a lot longer. See pictures here and also a short piece from a contributor to the Urban Exploration forum - a fascinating (and doubtless not strictly lawful) endeavour. The contributor also has some photos of Friars Walk, a now-closed shopping precinct that used to house C&A among other places.
  
• Aldwych House, on the corner of Blagrave Street, which used to be occupied by Foster Wheeler. It had (or used to have) a bar in the basement – I once went there for a drink with a flirtatious Detective Sergeant when briefly temping for British Transport Police back in the early 1990s (see 2 September post).
  
• And possibly the long-abandoned Western Tower on Station Hill, which may still be the tallest building in Reading (not sure - I know it was at one point) – there are some entries on the UE forum - here and here - about this as well.

Wednesday 9 September 2009

Ruth and I wandered down to King’s Meadow on Saturday afternoon to sample Reading Pride, as I had never been to a Pride festival before and felt I should sample the local offering. Ruth, a veteran of several such festivals, spent much of the time muttering about how it wasn’t as good as London/as Brighton/as it used to be in the 18th century, etc. It had a slightly scrappy feel to it, possibly because of its attempt to be a family festival as well as catering for the LGBT (loathsome acronym) community – hence funfairs, candy floss, loads of pushchairs etc. We enjoyed a quick browse around the various stalls, at least half of which were political parties and campaigning groups such as Amnesty International. There were a few people waving ‘Against the National Front’ banners, obviously not having realised that the NF had already cancelled their planned protest – they had threatened to picket the march but in the end pretty much announced that they couldn’t be arsed to turn up. We then met up with our friend Claire and used the dodgy weather as an excuse to decamp to the pub for a beer or two, and thence to Carluccio’s for an unplanned dinner (damn the beer or two).

I was quite taken with the gay Conservatives stall and intend to read through my list of bios of top gay Tories.

We now, hopefully, have a rabbit-proof fence, as Ruth spent a good few hours on Sunday nailing chicken wire down the whole length of one of the back garden fences, in the hope that this will prevent Harley escaping. We then coaxed him out into the garden to test it - certainly he stayed within the confines of the garden tho' this may just have been coincidence.

Went up to London on Monday morning for a meeting at the National Gallery Dining Rooms. The DRs are dead posh though it took my boss Paul and me a while to locate them, as we didn’t realise they’re located in the new Sainsbury Wing – managed to visit the Café and the shop before finally locating them. As it was mid-morning I just had a mint tea but the food on offer looked very nice.

On the way in to the gallery, the sight of a chap sitting reading a newspaper on top of the Fourth Plinth reminded me that Antony Gormley’s One and Other project is now underway.

Wednesday 2 September 2009

After having started August with a level of determination to go on an economy drive, I seem to have eaten out in August more than in any other month in the year so far. Went for dinner with Ruth at Bella Italia last Thursday evening – much more crowded than usual due to the influx of festival-goers. I would have thought that to be in the true festival spirit they should have been up at the Rivermead site consuming greasy burgers out of a van, rather than enjoying pizza and wine in Bella Italia. Today’s festival-goers are evidently a namby-pamby lot. Afterwards went for a nightcap at Malmaison - so nice that the former Great Western Hotel has finally been converted into something after standing empty for years – hopefully it will survive in its new incarnation as a boutique hotel. The bar is a haven of subdued lighting and at-table service so something of a novelty in Reading. I remember when I had a summer job temping for the British Transport Police back in 1993 (one of my pleasanter and more interesting temp jobs) having to go down into the basement of the former GWH and collect post for them from a locker room down there – not sure what all that was about.

Went over to Henley with Ray on Sunday for a bit of a mooch. We wandered out to have a snoop at the house on Fairmile where we lived from 1997 to 2003 (though mainly at weekends in my case). When we lived there the house was badly in need of TLC (rotting windows, dampness – the bathroom ceiling in our flat once fell down as it was so weighed down by water). It and its neighbour are still owned by the Harleyford Estate, Ray’s former employer (or rather the sister company of Ray’s former employer Harleyford Golf – the estate is owned by two brothers whose relationship is such they split their assets down the middle to avoid ever having to speak to each other) but have now been renovated to within an inch of their lives, have gated entry and seem to have been renamed ‘Savill Court’ – and consequently would now be far too expensive for the likes of us. I haven’t been able to find a picture of the house as it used to be though I’m sure I’ve got one somewhere.

For lunch we went for meze at the Green Olive (eating out again) - had a gorgeous collection of dishes including a garlicky aubergine dip (ordered two platefuls) and a huge pile of deep-fried whitebait. Beats a roast any day.

Had yet another meal out this Wednesday as my parents were staying over en route to the Channel Tunnel and a two-week holiday in France, and as I was too idle to think of a creative meal to cook on a week night I booked a table at Quattro, a long-established Italian restaurant helpfully situated a mere skip from the house (in actual fact we scuttled in single file under umbrellas in pelting rain). When I first moved to Caversham my South African neighbour Nicki initially put me off Quattro by speaking disparagingly about its food and service, but IMHO the food, though not top-of-the-range, is nice enough and the service, though not overly effusive, is perfectly friendly and polite. They don’t do the bouncing up to your table, usually just after you’ve forked a large helping of food into your mouth, to ask “Is everything all right with your meal?” in perky tones before skipping off without waiting for an answer – but personally that doesn’t bother me too much.

On a last food-related note: we have upped the bunnies' food intake following the shock discovery of their weight loss - they are now getting twice the amount of pellets in the morning and the odd grape in between times. Ruth has been trying to assure Harley that his bottom is getting fatter, but I'm not sure as yet. The extra food doesn't seem to have dimmed Lola's appetite for plaster and wallpaper though - if I didn't know she'd been 'done' I'd suspect she was pregnant.

Grosmont; IKEA; underweight bunnies

Grosmont Castle

Had a lovely dinner with Claire at La Tasca on Friday night, which she very kindly paid for as a belated birthday treat – she also gave me a lovely green necklace which fits in with my tentative first forays into green clothing over the last year – have acquired a green shirt, a green scarf and now two green necklaces. 

Drove down to my parents' place on Saturday morning for a family barbecue - weather not too warm but not actually raining. Someone did note that there are photos of a previous family barbecue where everyone is wrapped up in fleeces, so this one was balmy in comparison. On Sunday Mum drove Ruth and me over to Grosmont for a stroll around the castle and St Nicholas Church. Grosmont Castle is one of the 'Three Castles' or, more splendidly, castles of the Trilateral (the others being Skenfrith Castle and White Castle). We went for a nice lunch at Gentle Jane Tearoom, where I shared with Mum a slice of something called ‘Hummingbird cake’, which turned out to be a particularly sickly moussey concoction flavoured with banana and pineapple. Had a couple of mouthfuls and then felt faintly bilious. 

At the tearoom

On the way back from Mum and Dad’s on Monday we stopped off at IKEA in Bristol, in a pre-planned moment of spontaneous madness. It had seemed like a good idea originally but turned out to be only moderately enjoyable as it was surprisingly busy for a Monday morning - the sat nav, perhaps in a moment of foresight, repeatedly urged us to stop and do a U-turn just as we were driving into IKEA’s car park. My original intention had been to buy one of their SKRUVSTA swivel chairs, but sadly they seem to have discontinued the one I particularly liked with the white fluffy seat covers. After actually sitting in a couple, I was still undecided so ended up not actually buying one. We did buy a set of six matching wine glasses, some wooden coat hangers and a few other bits and pieces. 

On collecting the rabbits later that day after their two-day board at Reading Rabbits, we were informed that both bunnies have lost half a kilo each since being homed with us and need to be fed more food. Once Ruth gets over the blow to her mothering skills, I think the intention is to feed them more high-calorie food such as carrots and grapes. Apparently being underfed is likely to be the reason for their occasional pre-breakfast scraps. Their recent eating of one of their chew toys and quite a bit of plaster off the living room chimney breast takes on a whole new meaning. Les pauvres. 

Kate and I hit the gym together after work on Tuesday as part of a newly-formed ‘gym buddy’ pact. I had only been once since having my workout routine devised back in June, and that only to use the exercise bike. This time I did manage to get through most of my routine, excluding the sets on the Total Abdominal – a piece of kit apparently designed to tone abdominal muscles but seemingly actually designed to wreck necks and shoulders. Could still feel the effects the following day particularly the sets done on the Adductor, so assume it must have done some good. Fearing that I might be particularly inept at remembering how to use the machines, I had suggested to Kate that she might be needed to create a diversion by swooning/having a fit of the vapours or similar, but in the event didn’t actually make too much of a twat of myself. We are planning to go again next week ...

Wednesday 19 August 2009

Was invited for my first official dinner on Ray’s narrowboat last Friday. As his only cooking facilities at the moment are disposable barbecues and a frying pan balanced atop a small and none-too-robust looking portable stove, I was unsure what to expect for dinner, but it turned out to be a delicious scallop and squid medley – see pics of frying scallops and squid tentacles, and cunning seafood kebabs.

Part of the purpose of the evening was to have a bit of a Star Trek marathon with favourite episodes of The Next Generation from our jointly-bought collection. We started off with The Measure of a Man, the undoubted crowning jewel of Season 2 and arguably of the series, followed by Contagion (scary opener; rest pretty mediocre, not helped by the not-very-scary Romulans and their absurd shoulder pads). Ensuing break for chat and dinner meant that by the time we got to Tin Man, the third choice on the list, it was quite late and my taxi arrived before the end. Never mind. I knew how it ended, and Tam Elbrun is pretty annoying.

Indulged in a couple of spa treatments at revive on Saturday morning – very nice although a chattier therapist than I had last time. Also they seem to have switched to black, as opposed to white, paper pants for whole-body treatments, perhaps to lend the whole thing a sluttier air.

My birthday on Sunday was a more muted affair than usual but Ruth and I did eventually make it up to London in time for a late lunch at Byron ‘Proper Hamburgers’ on the King's Road, before eventually proceeding with our original plan of visiting the V&A – unfortunately because of our late start, and then extended lunch, we arrived with only an hour to spare before closing, giving us just enough time for a look around the new Islamic gallery and a quick wander around a few other things. We then took the tube across to Soho, where Ruth bought a cabbage.

Almost-rounders; Grazing

Sunday’s community rounders event, intended to be a follow-up to July’s Big Lunch, turned out a spectacular flop when only four of us turned up. My long-standing antipathy to ball games meant that I attended more to show community spirit than because of any actual enthusiasm for playing rounders, so shame on my neighbours … Fiona, the organiser, was understandably a bit peeved but Ruth and I were discreetly delighted and went home instead for an early-evening drink on the patio, which is officially almost the same as exercising.

Ruth had even taken the rounders bat she keeps in the bedroom wardrobe (I’ve not as yet quite figured out its intended purpose – challenging intruders to a ball game?) - it would have been its maiden voyage, had it got as far as actually striking a ball.

Other than that had a quiet weekend doing household chores and baking a fig and ginger parkin, in true homebody fashion. Ruth has started painting the garage white, in an effort to achieve a bit more of a Mediterranean look - it looks good although unfortunately it has meant trimming back some of our neighbour Nicki's very pretty grapevine, which has trained itself attractively along one wall and across to our garage roof.

Today I have enjoyed having ‘nature delivered’ to my desk, in the form of a ‘graze box’ from www.graze.com. Graze make up a box of healthy snacks for you, based on the likes and dislikes you enter on their website, and based on the type of box you’ve chosen. I chose the ‘grazeenergy’ box, designed to help ward off that mid-afternoon slump, but there’s also e.g. a ‘grazewellbeing’ and a ‘grazepreworkout’ option. It’s delivered in a cute flat cardboard box. Today's box contained pieces of fresh pineapple, Korean chilli rice crackers and black pepper cashews. All, obviously, a clever marketing ploy, but for a fruit-phobe such as myself it may have some merits.

Wednesday 5 August 2009

Hmm, OK, missed out a week.

Dinner with Kate at the (very crowded) Alto Lounge a week or so ago was enlivened by the sheer outrageousness of them running out of wine glasses. We were offered rosé in tumblers instead. Imagine! I opted for brandy glasses as a slightly more elegant alternative to tumblers, but really.

Ruth and I trekked over to the O2 a couple of Saturdays ago to see the Body Worlds exhibition, featuring a display of Dr Gunther von Hagens' ‘plastinated’ bodies and body parts. The overall theme was the human life cycle and the arc of ageing, accompanied by the inevitable topical advice about healthy living, some of which is now becoming frankly tedious ("hey, here’s yet ANOTHER pair of smoker’s lungs, if you haven’t got the message from the previous half a dozen pairs, and the pictures of smokers’ lungs that you’ll have been seeing in books since childhood." Actually, I have to say that judging by the pair on display at the exhibition, healthy lungs don’t look that attractive either.). The exhibits of body parts and slices of organs were fascinating, if your interests run to that sort of thing, which mine, on the whole, do. And in fairness, some of the stuff from the bodies of e.g. heart attack victims were enough to put one off butter and bacon sandwiches for a while. On leaving the exhibition, we were unsure whether to deal with our slight queasiness by immediately adopting a healthier fruit- and berry-eating lifestyle, or by going somewhere for a stiff drink.

I still don’t like the O2 as a venue (see my post of 3 September 2008) but getting there does entail using the Jubilee Line extension, which still looks quite snazzy. Here’s a picture of me in the foyer, just to prove we were there. We didn't hang around there after the exhibition as we both felt a strong urge to return to civilisation, so we went over to the King's Road to coo over things in Habitat.

As part of our general mooching around Chelsea we popped into the Queen's Head on Tryon Street for a quick drink. I had been there once before, but completely failed to notice on either occasion that it's a gay pub - Ruth asked wearily (by no means for the first time) whether I had completely failed to notice the rainbow flag on the way in. Indeed I had. Have no gaydar whatsover (assuming that term can be applied to places as well as people). Certainly the bar was full of older men, but as that applies to a lot of pubs I didn't think much of it.

Ruth's unconventional yet poignant friendship with Barry the caterpillar (pictured) appears to have fizzled out, as a direct result of his sudden disappearance from our lives. One minute he is munching his way through the small willow tree near the back door, the next he's gone, in not-at-all similar manner to celluloid animal friends such as Gentle Ben and Skippy the Bush Kangaroo. Ruth's obviously-still-grieving comment was "He ate all the leaves, and then he buggered off."

The tomatoes in the garden are growing well, but are staying resolutely green. Green tomato chutney it is then. Feel a late summer of bottling fruit and making chutneys and jams coming on. May also make an apron or two out of gingham.