What’s New: A romantic weekend away with D.H for my birthday. But before I tell you about our little trip, let me fill you in about mother and Mildred Small. They managed to get to the train station under their own steam. I couldn’t take them, because as you’ll recall, I was laid up with ‘flu-pigin-monia’ and dearest husband was far too busy taking care of me to play taxi driver. The news that they had to take a taxi didn’t go down very well, but as D.H said, “If they can afford to go on a two month cruse (he actually called it a rich husband hunt – but he’s very naughty) they can afford to get a taxi to the train station.”
“It took me ages to understand what they were saying, they wouldn’t remove the scarves from their mouths,” D.H mused.
“They were talking through their scarves, because they didn’t want to catch my cold,” I said.
“Oh, I thought that it was because of all the beans you’d been eating.”
“I don’t understand D.H. Why would my diet make them both hold their scarves over their noses?”
“No reason dear, just a thought that’s all. I must have misread the situation,” a reddening D.H replied. “ How about a nice cup of tea. Don’t you get up Annie dear, I’ll make it.”
Anyway, with those two out of the way we were free to book a little jaunt of our own.
So it was away to York for the weekend. D.H had done a reccy on a riverside hotel and then found one of my favorite Indian restaurants for us to have supper.
“Do you think we should book the restaurant, Annie?” D.H had asked.
“I don’t think that will be necessary, I can’t see it been that busy.”
The hotel was perfect, our room was beautiful, plus it was right on the water’s edge. We could lay on the bed and look out over the river Ouse. Perfect. Parking was on the ground floor, so that we didn’t have to worry about the car been in some obscure car park miles away, as is the case in some of the town centre hotels.
Akbar’s Indian restaurant was only a short walk from the hotel, but when we got there it was heaving.
“Darling, it doesn’t matter that we have to wait, we can have a nice drink in the bar before our meal. Plus it will give us time to study the menu,” I said.
D.H didn’t comment, he just made his way to the bar. We had left home straight after work without having something to eat, so we were both ravenous.
It didn’t take that long before we were shown to our table, plus I’d enjoyed seeing the hustle and bustle of people coming and going. The moment people left a table, a gang of waiters swooped on it, and had it cleaned and set again in no time.
The food was wonderful, but because the restaurant was so busy, it was difficult to have a conversation. So we sat and ate in silence, looking up from the delicious food and smiling occasionally.
We walked back to our hotel, full and happy.
“Would you like to call into the hotel bar for a night cap?” D.H enquired.
“No, let’s go to our room and have an early night,” I replied.
I’d bought the most beautiful nightgown, but foolishly hadn’t tried it on before taking it away with me. I slipped into the bathroom to put it on, only to my horror to find that it didn’t fit me around the bust. All I could do was drop the top down and wear it like a skirt, much to the delight of D.H!
You may well know that York has been having a spot of bother with all the rain we’ve been experiencing. The river had broken it’s bank on more than one occasion of late, and when we arrived the water was high – but we hadn’t had rain for a few days, so we didn’t think that it would get any higher.
Wrong. The next morning when I pulled back the curtains, the river had just broken it’s bank.
“It must be raining higher up the river, but I don’t think that we have anything to worry about. I can’t see it reaching the car park,” a confident D.H said.
So, away to breakfast and then on to York Museum. On the way we stumbled across a wonderful little hat shop and purchased D.H a new hat. He talks about me taking my time in shops, but let me tell you – he must have tried on every hat in that shop. I was kind, and ‘ooh and ahh’ed in all the right places – but it’s a hat man – get a grip, it fits your head, looks nice, buy it! (None of which I actually said.)
We had both visited the museum as children on school trips; but as you can imagine that was a few sleeps ago. Needless to say it had changed somewhat since then, providing a gleaming cafe with scrumptious cakes, etc, a gift shop that would satisfy the needs of any tourist – something for everyone. (Except, strangely me!)
The museum itself was just has we remembered it, with one or two new additions. All in all, a perfect place to spend a day if you don’t want to go dress shopping.
Museum done, in what I have to admit probably could have been classed as recored time, it was out to the shops, on the street and excited; when my phone rang.
“Hello, this is The Queens Hotel. Could you please come and move your car out of the car park, the river has broken it’s bank and the car park is starting to flood.”
Yikes!! D.H was off like a tall dog, with me lagging behind – not even a moment to glance into the shop windows.
Panic over and car moved, we decided to go for a walk into town. We had coffee in Cafe Nero. Why?? Don’t ask me; with a wealth of independents D.H wanted a chain shop coffee. Grrrrrr..
We decided that we would eat Italian that evening. (Sunday night) What a difference a day makes! The place was dead, one other couple, and us. Waiters falling over themselves to serve us, and food arriving in double quick time. We ate our meal, again in silence, this time not because of the noise, but because of the lack of it. It was like sitting in a Doctor’s waiting room; plus can someone please tell me why restaurants always sit people so close together – especially when the rest of the place is empty?
We were woken by two geese and a swan fighting right under our window, the river was lapping the hotel wall right outside of our room.
The next day D.H wanted to see Star Wars at the flix, I wanted to see The Lady in the Van By Alan Bennett. We made our way to Clifton Moor multiplex. Star Wars wasn’t on until much later, but D.H said that he wanted to see Dad’s Army; so Dad’s Army it was. Large, and I mean large bucket of popcorn and the VIP seats were the carrot that was dangled before me so he didn’t have to see the Alan Bennett.
Home in time to reflect on the weekend: Conclusion, what with the nightgown fiasco, new hat and a visit to the cinema to see Dad’s Army, D.H positively enjoyed my birthday treat….