DAY 1 - FRIDAY 3RD AUGUST
The morning at work
goes pretty quickly with only a few minor crises to deal with.
Just after 1.00pm we return home to shower and do the last bit of
packing.
Before we set off on holiday we have one of life’s less
pleasant tasks to attend to. My uncle died recently and we are
going to his funeral. Although he was 86, it’s still a sad
day for my mum as he’s the last of her 3 brothers. He was a
really interesting man to talk to, as his reminiscences of a
by-gone age were fascinating. He used to tell me of working on
the farm all day before going to the local pub where the men
would joke with each other over who had ploughed the most crooked
furrow.
I guess that sense of community is a long gone thing in most
places. This is not the most auspicious start to a holiday, but
I’m glad we were around to say farewell to Frank.
Our good friend Matt is picking us up at 4.30pm to take us to
Heathrow to stay in a hotel overnight. We make repeated attempts
to use Virgin on-line check-in, but the web site keeps telling us
we can’t. Damn rude if you ask me. Just as Matt is about to
arrive I try for one last time. Success! Perhaps the web site is
a bit temperamental. Maybe it’s female and has PMT. Who
knows?
Matt drives us to Heathrow where we are staying in the Marriott
for the night. Despite the exterior he might wish to portray,
Matt has a heart of gold. We say farewell to him and look forward
to seeing him and Deb in WDW in 2 weeks time.
The Marriott is a very nice hotel. Primarily aimed at the
business market, it costs about £160 to stay there during the
week, but we only had to pay £60 to stay on a Friday night, an
absolute bargain. I would put it on a par with the Sofitel in
Gatwick.
Checked in and bags dropped off in the room, we venture forth to
the bar for a drinkie. £3.40 for a pint of Boddingtons is pretty
good by hotel standards. I’m starting to relax into holiday
mode.
I’d read on the internet that there is as Italian restaurant
just up the road, so we walk up to take a look. We are not
impressed (as Queen Victoria might have said). It looks a bit
like a greasy spoon café. Not the sort of place to get the
holiday off to a great start.
Back to the Marriott where we decide to eat at the American
Grille. There is a special offer of a 3-course meal and 2 glasses
of wine for £23. The menu is somewhat limited for this deal, but
the 2 glasses of wine swing it. We’re in thank you garcon.
There is a 30 minute wait so we adjourn to the bar.
At this point Georgia says that she is so hungry she could eat a
fish! When asked what sort of fish, she replies ‘A big
one’. I suppose there is a warped sort of logic in there
somewhere.
Into the restaurant and we enjoy a meal that is actually slightly
better than I was anticipating. Nacho’s, chicken strips
(very good), burgers, pasta and Portobello sandwiches are
enjoyed. Dessert is apple and walnut tart along with lemon
sorbet. Tam pronounces that the apple and walnut tart tastes like
Port Orleans Riverside. Lord knows how a dessert can taste like a
resort, but we nod earnestly in agreement for fear of offending
the mad woman and ending up with a knife in the back.
It is at this point in the proceedings that the conversation
turns to a possible performance of ‘The Old Grey Mare’
by my good self. For those of you not intimately acquainted with
The Simpsons, this refers to an episode where Krusty the Clown is
down on his luck and offers to drop his trousers for $1 and
shuffle around while singing The Old Grey Mare.
Now I don’t like to blow my own trumpet, but I have to say
that my own rendition of said classic is a thing of beauty to
behold.
I offer to perform for the ladies later. This is not met with
overwhelming enthusiasm. The full length window in our room
overlooks the atrium and the bar, so I ponder whether a complete
(and naked) performance of The Old Grey Mare in front of the
window might not illicit the sort of critical acclaim my artistic
talent has been crying out for. The look on the faces of the
women persuades me otherwise. The world must wait further for
this wondrous sight.
It is now 9.45pm and Tam is yawning. The ladies retire to the
boudoir, so I head for the bar.
A couple of Coronas and an hour or so are spent writing up the
trip report.
God, I love this part of the holiday. All the experiences to come
lie before us. There will be new places to visit alongside things
we know we are going to enjoy as we have done them many times in
the past. One thing’s for sure, we ain’t holding back
on this holiday, it’s going to be all action.
Are you sure I can’t interest you in a few bars of The Old
Grey Mare?