A report on the hi-jinks did I say? Well here it is
I’m probably going to keep this one relatively short, mainly due to the energy-sapping heat currently beating mercilessly from the unseasonably clear, dry skies.
I’m also going to take a hard swerve on the recent events ripping through Britain, the appalling events in Southport and the subsequent fall out. I’ll avoid politics; avoid issues of left versus right, and concentrate on much happier events. I’m not even going to mention the car that was set alight four doors down from us last night.
If you read last week’s offering, you may recall that this weekend saw myself and my sainted wife, Tina, celebrate our twelfth wedding anniversary, and, to celebrate, we went to Leeds
It’s not most people’s idea of an ideal place to live it up, but, since those ancient days of my childhood, my native city has blossomed into quite the modern metropolis. A place of street food, chic bars, good eating, and cocktails.
Which was the plan for the day in question.
Location, Location, Location
We left home about half past two, caught the bus and within the space of an hour arrived at our destination. A short walk took us to our hotel, where we tried to book in, failed, and were told that someone (me) had booked the wrong one. We had the right brand (Premier Inn) but the wrong location. Luckily, our actual hotel room was only a ten minute walk away.
I’m also going to take a hard swerve on the recent events ripping through Britain, the appalling events in Southport and the subsequent fall out. I’ll avoid politics; avoid issues of left versus right, and concentrate on much happier events. I’m not even going to mention the car that was set alight four doors down from us last night.
If you read last week’s offering, you may recall that this weekend saw myself and my sainted wife, Tina, celebrate our twelfth wedding anniversary, and, to celebrate, we went to Leeds
It’s not most people’s idea of an ideal place to live it up, but, since those ancient days of my childhood, my native city has blossomed into quite the modern metropolis. A place of street food, chic bars, good eating, and cocktails.
Which was the plan for the day in question.
Location, Location, Location
We left home about half past two, caught the bus and within the space of an hour arrived at our destination. A short walk took us to our hotel, where we tried to book in, failed, and were told that someone (me) had booked the wrong one. We had the right brand (Premier Inn) but the wrong location. Luckily, our actual hotel room was only a ten minute walk away.
It wasn’t quite as quiet or nearly as near as the one I thought I’d booked, but it sufficed, after all the hotel was just a bed for the night. The real celebrations were still to come.
We started with frankly overpriced cocktails at TGI Friday’s and were treated to the floor show of a couple who ordered steak, ribs, and all the trimmings, ate about half of it, and then did a runner.
Curry Favour
From there we headed up to a place called Tamatanga. A modern Indian restaurant. There, a couple more two-for-one cocktails were imbibed, and after that, two Thalis ordered. A thali is a collection of sundry dishes and ours included two smaller dishes of curry (I chose the Railway Cabin Lamb and the Prawn Nigiri. Tina had Nee-ma’s Chicken Curry and Keralan Lamb.), two veg curries, daal, bombay potatoes raita, rice, salad, chutney, poppadom and a small naan. It was a slap up meal. A real treat, And it went some way to soaking up the booze. Especially the free shots we were given to go alongside the free slice of hot chocolate fudge cake when we mentioned the occasion.
We did have another cocktail with the food, and as I’d had a word with the friendly barman, I had another afterwards. This sprung from a brief conversation while Tina used the facilities. A sharing of an aim I thought I was going to miss. To have a vodka martini before I turned 50.
Martini. Vodka Martini
Yes, I know. Dreams of Bond, etc. How very cliché. The thing is you don’t seem to get simple martinis any more. They’re always the pornstar or espresso variety. This was true of Tamatanga's, too, but my friend behind the bar was happy to go off menu and prepare me one. Shaken, not stirred.
And from there it was a stagger back to the room. The next day we packed our meagre bag, and after one last trawl, a visit to The Corn Exchange, a lovely coffee (Kapow coffee in Thornton’s Arcade), and an ice cream we could have got a little cheaper thanks to Tina’s Blue Light Card, we caught the bus back home.
It was a short stay, but it was a fun one. A day away, outside our normal routine, to enjoy each other’s company without distraction or duty to get in the way and Tamatanga's went a long way to make the special day even more special.
And looking up Tamatanga's menu, I’ve just discovered they do a bottomless brunch. Hmmm!
Until next time.
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Hey, there! If you enjoyed reading any of the above, why not take a look at some of my published work? Below you’ll find links to a number of short stories I’m lucky enough to have included in anthologies. I’d love to know what you think.
New Tales Of Old
Death Ship
Pestilence: Drabbles 1
Reaperman: Drabbles 3
The Musketeers Vs Cthulhu
Eldritch Investigations
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