We were remembered by the waitress in All Bar One, on account of my having wanted a glass of wine before noon. As it happened, a couple of European tourists came in while we were there on the same errand, with the same result. That is to say they settled for tea or coffee. We talked with the waitress about safety pin Hurley, on account of her being in the news again, nothing to do with safety pins.
Flowers an arrangement of pinks, oranges and reds on a background of green. For some reason the pink strelitzia made me think of prawns rather than flowers. No wheelchairs. But we did have a yummy mummy a few rows in front of us who kept leaning over to tell her young son what was going on. BH thought that the chap immediately behind her found this seriously annoying. I distracted myself with double visions on which I shall report in due course.
Quartet very good, almost as good an experience as we had had the week before. Just the odd scrape when, I think, a bow got too close to a bridge. For the first time that I can remember, we took two of the sherries offered on the way out.
We went on to take lunch in the ground floor bar of the curiously shaped and grandly named Radisson Blu Edwardian Berkshire Hotel. We rather liked the bar, not empty but not busy either, lots of windows out on the world, and the wine was fine. Food nicely presented and reasonably priced but average. My burger, for example, was completely swamped in a froth of some kind of melted cheese. A plus was the waitress giving us the front bit of the Sunday Times to take away to read on the way home - it having been a long time since we have looked at this particular paper, a fixture of my childhood Sundays. Bit of a rag now with lots of Sun flavoured stories and little serious comment of the childhood variety. We were not surprised given who now owned it.
Onto Hedonism where they, for the first time, were able to manage a Greco di Tufo, on which I shall report in due course. Helpful staff reminded me of those in the more or less late lamented Oddbins.
Two wonders on the way home. First, do canal people do horses or do they content themselves with engines? Are horses still an option? I must keep a look out for someone suitable to ask. From where I associated to all the Maigret stories which involve canal boats, many with horses too. Second, with the help of Cortana and Wikipedia, we sorted out the history and locations of the Azores, the Canaries and the Cape Verde Islands. I share the factlet that of the three, only the Canaries seem to have been populated before us Europeans turned up. With the aborigines of the Canaries having been so nearly exterminated, that it is now cool for a whitey to claim aboriginal blood, something made possible by the advent of DNA.
Still no more flowers on the sides of trains on this occasion. I start to wonder whether my memory is playing tricks, but checking this morning I turn up my notes of the matter at reference 4.
PS: as I have probably noticed before, there is something about the font that the Wigmore use for the programmes they give out for lunch time concerts which does not suit my scanning set up. If you zoom, the information is all there, but at its proper size it fails to display very well at all. Oddly, rather better when it has passed through whatever trials the Blogger puts its images through.
Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/03/ronan-ohara.html.
Reference 2: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/12/belcea.html. The last 'Death and the Maiden'.
Reference 3: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/mostly-new-to-me.html. The last 'Intimate Letters'. With the cellist with the funny tail piece.
Reference 4: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/02/yellow-flowers.html.
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