Caesar Salad sand-wich is good
Friday night was trying to watch telly with Bon Jovi blarring in the background. No it wasn't our Polish neighbours discovering Slippery When Wet for the first time, the mullet-haired past-it rockers were playing live 2 miles away in the Saints stadium. Whilst Grace was getting booed on Big Brother, Jon BJ was screeching out 'You give love a bad name'.
Saturday was our daytrip to Brighton. Originally we planned to take the bikes but the trains were a bit vague and non-committable to taking them on-board. Walking around Brighton was easy anyway but getting to the Sand Sculpture site required a bus and 15 minutes wondering around the marina without any signage. Most of the sculptures were under-roof which was a shame with the blazing sun roasting the fair skinned like a BBQ. Steve put me onto this last year where the theme was Egyptian. This year was an Ancient Rome theme where loads of Dutch artists had left their mark. Gods, gladiators, villas, emporers, centurians, elephants, lions, baths, pigs, you name a Roman thing, it was there. Round the back was an amazing grafitti wall that spoilt my digital camera.
We walked down back to the town centre along the promenade soaking up the rays from the clear blue sky. Stopping off for lunch at an open air cafe in the Lanes, we were entertained by the guitarist playing original material which was quite good. Songs that James Blunt should have played without the depression. A few credit cards swiped and shoes bought (both guilty) we took in the atmosphere of England supporters either singing at anyone or spilling their guts in the Pavillion's park.
More rambling and photo opportunities later we got back on the train with an M & S pasta. The journey was eventful on two accounts. Kerry visited the train toilet whilst some bloke unwittingly forgot to lock the door and still shaking the lilly. What Kerry didn't realise was the guy had pulled the emergency cord mistaking it for the flush and had stepped in at the wrong time. The next moment the guard was banging on the door demanding an explanation. She returned to the seat very sheepishly. The second incident was at Havant train station seeing four riot vans and three police cars dealing with sun-boiled, boozed up blokes fighting over who spilt their Stella after England's lucky victory.
Tried to watch our latest Screen Select rental, Grave of the Fireflies that evening but got quite depressed halfway. It s about Japanese orphan children trying to survive WW2 bombing.
Kerry had to pick up her new car to replace the mistress - a Seat Leon. Later was the heady heights of sorting out my Orange broadband and phone upgrade as well as the pant-wetting excitement of repairing the fence.
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Saturday was our daytrip to Brighton. Originally we planned to take the bikes but the trains were a bit vague and non-committable to taking them on-board. Walking around Brighton was easy anyway but getting to the Sand Sculpture site required a bus and 15 minutes wondering around the marina without any signage. Most of the sculptures were under-roof which was a shame with the blazing sun roasting the fair skinned like a BBQ. Steve put me onto this last year where the theme was Egyptian. This year was an Ancient Rome theme where loads of Dutch artists had left their mark. Gods, gladiators, villas, emporers, centurians, elephants, lions, baths, pigs, you name a Roman thing, it was there. Round the back was an amazing grafitti wall that spoilt my digital camera.
We walked down back to the town centre along the promenade soaking up the rays from the clear blue sky. Stopping off for lunch at an open air cafe in the Lanes, we were entertained by the guitarist playing original material which was quite good. Songs that James Blunt should have played without the depression. A few credit cards swiped and shoes bought (both guilty) we took in the atmosphere of England supporters either singing at anyone or spilling their guts in the Pavillion's park.
More rambling and photo opportunities later we got back on the train with an M & S pasta. The journey was eventful on two accounts. Kerry visited the train toilet whilst some bloke unwittingly forgot to lock the door and still shaking the lilly. What Kerry didn't realise was the guy had pulled the emergency cord mistaking it for the flush and had stepped in at the wrong time. The next moment the guard was banging on the door demanding an explanation. She returned to the seat very sheepishly. The second incident was at Havant train station seeing four riot vans and three police cars dealing with sun-boiled, boozed up blokes fighting over who spilt their Stella after England's lucky victory.
Tried to watch our latest Screen Select rental, Grave of the Fireflies that evening but got quite depressed halfway. It s about Japanese orphan children trying to survive WW2 bombing.
Kerry had to pick up her new car to replace the mistress - a Seat Leon. Later was the heady heights of sorting out my Orange broadband and phone upgrade as well as the pant-wetting excitement of repairing the fence.
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