Sands of Time

Wow, has it really been so long since I posted anything?

Something of a testament to how busy I've been, how frustrated and angry I've been. Earlier in the year I started house-hunting. Stressful at the best of times but trying to fit it in around other commitments, I was wondering whether I'd chosen the right moment to go down this path, especially since I had a small window in which to ensure completion, should I find something, and move.

Unfortunately people are particularly unscrupulous at the best of times, never mind when they're trying to flog you their house. What's prompted my writing today is that the property I had to pull out of buying has just gone under offer. Oh I hope the buyers have a solicitor who's on the ball.

When I had viewed this property I was talking to the vendor about future plans for loft conversions and renovations, and through price negotiations, things like the rotting sash windows were used as leverage to try to reduce the price. The vendor maintained that there was nothing wrong with the windows (or the roof or the guttering) and was reluctant to bring the price down.

Anyway, long story short, a price agreed, my solicitor receives a single piece of paper which states that the freehold is owned by Newcastle Council.

The vendors do not in fact even own the roof, the roof space or the guttering, or even the windows. The council does. And all the money they're asking for the property is essentially for renting the empty space between the walls.

Nice of them to mention that. This piece of paper didn't even go into specifics - I had to ring the council direct for that and was told a special pack should have accompanied their solicitor's paperwork - it hadn't.

So I pulled out, what else could I do? The survey I'd had done which confirmed issues like the roof had been rendered useless as the vendor wasn't in a position to carry out any repair works - all repair work was down to the council, and the surveyor intimated that the situation with the lease/freehold had made the flat practically worthless.

Unfortunately the law of caveat emptor, means the law is somewhat on their side (how can that be), and now the next lot of poor unsuspecting buyers will have to negotiate their way around this nasty situation.

20 Gun Salute for Café 21

A tardy review on account of the migraine that's plagued me all week. It would be easy just to skip it but I feel it has to be written; I'm not easily pleased and as my Valentine's night out was distinctly under-whelming on the food front, when we try again a month later, I'm more than pleasantly surprised.

Feeling somewhat apprehensive as I made the online booking, after all, this was another foodie venue awarded 5 stars by the region's Secret Diner and we all know what I thought of the last place I went to based on his review, but buoyed by positive comments from friends, I went ahead, pleased that my first choice of time was available, and making a few extra requests about the table. The confirmation email arrived, followed up with a telephone call the day before to confirm arrangements. So far, so good.

Friday night arrives, my friend picks me up and we head off into town. Fall Out Boy are playing the Arena so it's busy and traffic's slow but we make it to the Quayside unscathed and settle on a quick drink in the Slug - and a quick one it is too. The place is packed and noisy, so drinks downed we pop around the corner to the Broad Chare for another more leisurely drink before making our way to destination food.

I'm hungry, really hungry now, and hoping I'm not in for artfully arranged vegetable peelings atop a sliver of meat passing itself off as haute cuisine. As we're ushered to our table I relax, noting that requests have been fulfilled and settle down to peruse the menu. What a menu. Both myself and my dining companion chose the Scallops to start. If I hadn't, I'd probably have plumped for the Crab Lasagne, but I do love a good scallop and boy were these good. Served in one half of a shell, the 3 enormous scallops sat, drizzled with plenty of chilli and garlic. I love the fact that they came with their coral attached; so many places discard this but it's tender and bursting with flavour, who cares that it might affect the symmetry of the plate?

Empty plates whisked away by attentive but never intrusive staff, we moved on. My companion decided on the Braised Shoulder of Beef, which was so tender it truly was melt-in-the-mouth, whilst I had the Grilled Calves Liver. Sniffed at by some no doubt for being offal, this much maligned dish was 'offally' good, soft and delicate and served pink. A million miles from the tough, chewy liver I remember from childhood (Nana saying 'it's good for you')trying to wash it down with as much gravy as possible. None of that needed here. A couple of sides of spinach, beans and fries and it was a most delectable meal.

My companion chose his dessert carefully - Doughnuts, to ensure he'd have them to himself; I, feeling rather full, opted for sorbet, melon and raspberry - the fruitiest I've ever tasted. A couple of coffees later, we leave, very happy customers.

Things about the restaurant: the staff are great, as I said before, attentive but not intrusive, polite and friendly, knowledgeable about their dishes. Other establishments should take note.
Toilets - really good, clean, plentiful, with the best disposable hand towels I've seen outside the States.


And now I'm going to complain, the tiniest of complaints - my chair was hard and uncomfortable. 20/21

Die on Your Own Time Please

When exactly did (some) people become so uncompassionate? It's long been the norm that one daren't take leave to recover from illness without fearing the wrath of the boss, leaving us with a workforce performing consistently below best, coughing and sneezing their germs around til even the usually most hale and hearty succumb; what about compassion that should be due all of us to deal with bereavement?

Standard Leave of Absence policies seem to indicate that one might have paid time off work for the funeral of a close relative (parents, children etc) with perhaps a day or two longer if one has the responsibility for making the funeral arrangements, but then it's expected that you chivvy yourself along back to work. No allowances made for wanting an extra hour or two to attend a wake and offer sympathies to other family members, share a moment remembering the good times.

And woe betide if it's the misfortune of a less 'close' relative to pass away (how dare they, what were they thinking). Uncles, Aunts, in-laws; hey, if it's not 'your' relative, don't even think about putting that LOA form in, never mind that these relations can be just as close.

Today's lifestyle - social mobility can mean that a friend, a neighbour, could be closer that some relatives, but again we're expected to be robots - take 30 seconds and then get back to the grind - work will save you. It's belittling the life of a Mother, a Father, a Son or Daughter, a Friend.

Try to ensure your loved ones die in as uncomplicated a fashion as possible, have the funeral at the weekend (assuming your not working then as well).

In a world where we're constantly striving to put meaning in our lives, in the eyes of some, life has ceased to have any meaning at all.

DEATH RIDES AN UNCARING HORSEIllustration: Sherwin Schwartzrock & Jonathan Koelsch

Wrinkled noses at Rasa

So this review is a bit late - ok, read very late, having gone out on Valentine's Day, but you know, sometimes life just gets in the way.

With high hopes we set off to Rasa on Newcastle's Quayside. Our usual fail-safe is Sabatini's but having been there twice pretty recently and as I'd not long since read the Secret Diner's glowing report, we thought a change of scenery in order.

We declined the 'special' menu, opting for their regular option, and to begin with things looked quite promising. The staff were attentive but unobtrusive and knowledgeable, providing extra information about the dishes and as I polished off my Konju Fry starter, I was feeling confident about the choice we'd made. Unfortunately it was all downhill from there. The service all but disappeared, they staff seeming to prefer standing around the corner chatting to paying attention to what was happening in the restaurant, whilst my main dish was very nice, my partner's was completely tasteless and although we wanted coffees, the staff took so long coming back to the table that we just asked for the bill and went for a drink in the Akenside instead. In fact, I can probably say the best thing about the whole experience was the Malabar Paratha bread. Far nicer than the Naan breads one usually receives with Indian food, but I didn't go out to just enjoy bread.

Do the restaurants reviewed by the Secret Diner know he's coming? Do they up their game during the visit? I absolutely cannot see any reason for the 5 stars awarded in his review. My view? I'd be struggling to give it 3 out of 5.
On a positive note, the pre-dinner drinks at the Slug, and the post-dinner drinks at the Akenside were just lovely.

What's the story, Soap & Glory...

One of the best things about Christmas 2013 (and there weren't many) was the £100 Boots gift card I received compliments of Boots themselves. Having spent the past 4 months in a state beyond stressed and tired, the old peepers were beginning to look less radiant jewels and more like they had matching luggage. I'd always seen the 'Soap & Glory' brand as a bit gimmicky and cheap, with their reasonable prices and twee slogans, but when looking for an eye cream that didn't cost as much as my monthly rent and something different (I've tried a lot, and a lot haven't worked) I thought, "What the hell, let's give it a whirl." (And it was 3 for 2 on all S & G in Boots) I found myself with with the 'Puffy Eye Attack - Turbo-boost Hydragel, which sounds a little like it should be applied to one's car, the 'You Won't Believe Your Eyes - Tied eye brightening serum' and the 'Make Yourself Youthful - Rejuvenating Facial Serum', all for less than 35 quid - bargain. Does it work? The Puffy Eye Attack is a potted wonder. Cooling, working instantly and a little goes a long way - I've even been able to ease up on the Touche Éclat, especially when followed with the You Won't Believe Your Eyes serum. This iridescent serum is applied via 3 small rollers and makes the whole eye area appear lighter and brighter. The Make Yourself Youthful Serum, well, I can't say I'm the world's biggest fan. There's nothing really wrong with it, I've not been using it exclusively so can't really say whether it's making a difference, but for this time of year, the stress our skin undergoes with the weather, central heating, chocolate and alcohol, I guess my skin is better than this time last year. The one thing that lets this product down is the smell. It smells faintly of chocolate orange, and much as I love a good Terry's Chocolate Orange, and I've eaten two this Christmas, I wouldn't want to cover my face in one.

Fielding throws a curve ball

So, Mark Darcy's dead - is he? Is Helen Fielding for real? All we (the Bridget adoring female population) have to go on is an extract published in The Sunday Times, where we find the heroine aging, widowed and dealing with the singles (toyboy)scene with two children in tow. Hardly full confirmation, and I'd hope the book might have a little twist, even a predictable one such as this: Mark Darcy was a humanitarian lawyer. Suppose he went to see a client abroad in some godforsaken hellhole and there was an incident. All presumed dead. Perhaps even remains have been repatriated and buried. But it's not him. He's a prisoner somewhere. Perhaps even when he escapes and comes home, he observes Bridget at a distance and can't bring himself to intrude on the life she's forging since his 'death' - after all, he is a little bit of a drip, perhaps it's all only revealed on the cusp of her marriage to someone else...

Pic: The Guardian

So not a one off for Esso

Since I mentioned on this blog and to anyone I came across about the practices of Esso appearing to register one amount at the petrol pump which 'magically' increases by the time one arrives at the kiosk to pay, several people have confirmed that this has also happened to them, to the point that they will no longer use Esso. As previously stated, a pump clicking an extra penny seems hardly newsworthy, but given the number of customers passing through every day, this sharp adds up. Unfortunately I can't see Esso doing anything about it unless the public push for it. Their prices seem obscenely inflated anyway, without factoring in an extra rip-off.

How Low Can Esso Go?

Thieving little b#@*!^ds. As if petrol wasn't expensive enough. Yesterday the petrol light came on and as I've done a fair bit of running around since then, I thought it best I pop a bit in the old tank. Asda has the best deal price-wise but also the longest queues so I resorted to an Esso station nearby. Very carefully I put in exactly £10 - EXACTLY £10, yet by the time I'd got to the kiosk to pay it'd clicked another penny. Complaints fell on deaf ears. It's only a penny. I know it's only a penny today, but if it's a penny every time I go there, a penny for every customer they have, that's a lot of pennies extra they're clicking.

original image: wikimedia

Entour -RAGE

What is it with people that seem unable to spend even 30 seconds apart. And I'm not talking about lovey-dovey couples here. Yesterday at the MetroCentre, I witnessed someone waiting for a lift. They were pushing a wheelchair. They had to wait for a second time because when the lift arrived, it was filled by a woman with a pushchair (fair enough) and several women that were with her. Now surely anyone with any sense would realise that the other women could have gone down the escalator (right next to the lift)and met their friend/relative at the bottom, thus freeing more space for those who actually need it. Indeed, the lady pushing the wheelchair had another companion with her that did just that. Are they afraid they'll get lost? Under some sort of contract that requires them to remain in such close proximity? Selfish, unthinking oiks? Mmmm, I know which one I'm going with.

7 for all womenkind including me?

Y'know I haven't bought a pair of jeans for 5 years? For the most part, quite simply because I haven't found any to fit. Leg length, waist vs hip fit - it's a minefield, and since I've long legs (36" inside) and most stores appear to have reduce their 'Tall' lines to online only, buying has become an even more arduous task than before. I do like to try before I buy as all the faff sending stuff back if it isn't right just contributes to elevated blood pressure and a sending back to square one. Enter the new(ish) jeans-mart within House of Fraser. John Lewis has one too, where there's a pretty good selection of high-end jeans with longer leg lengths as standard. And I've found the perfect pair, only at £170 they're not exactly perfect on the wallet when it's just taken a hammering on holiday. But as I mentioned before - no jeans for 5 years, and since most people buy what? a pair a year at at least 50 quid a pop I reckon I've more than covered what will surely be an investment pair. That's how I'm justifying it anyway! (For anyone who notices I made reference to a pair of Biba jeans a while ago, I did find some through the MetroCentre's Jean Genie service - they fit really well apart from the length but I was assured they came in a longer fit. They didn't. Boo to Biba.)

Paris Can Can Can't

My recent sojourn in Paris was a little disappointing. All work and no play. The closest I got to play was a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from my train window and a quick dash to Sephora. My little bolthole near the Gare du Nord was serviceable but certainly not glamorous, and 12hour working days not conducive to living the high life. I made few purchases, amazed at how expensive things were. Who'd have thought that French brand make-up etc would be cheaper in the UK! On the plus side, Sephora's own brand is very reasonable and smells divine - they even ship to the UK for a small fee and compared to US prices it's a steal! The real highlight thought was probably in the Prada shop at CDG en route home. I could have had a 'Pretty Woman' moment, you know the one where the shop staff won't wait on her - I probably looked like a scarecrow's less attractive sister, but the assistant was very charming, telling me all about their new line, did I want to try a bag on... I declined the try on, I might have dirtied it and been forced to buy it, but it was lovely, definitely on my Christmas list if anyone's thinking of buying me anything, and...I managed to conduct my whole week in French.

Terrific Tenerife 3

As more and more hotels make the move to half-board or even all-inclusive as standard, you may feel as though you're missing out on the local cuisine. You'd be right, but since most places are more than happy to allow a little flexibility (swapping some dinners for lunches etc) you can get the best of both worlds. The first place I'd love to recommend is a little place called 'Capri'. It's in a pretty little arcade at the back of the Playas Fañabé and Torviscas. The baked Camembert is to die for, along with the breaded oyster mushrooms. I also highly recommend the sautéed broccoli. The pasta dishes are a real treat too. The Fettuccine Paraiso and Fusilli Paulo in particular and the pizzas are light as air and generous in size and topping. The menu doesn't stop there. There's also a wide selection of both fish and meat dishes - something for everyone. The Gran Reserva restaurant just around the corner from the Guayarmina Princess hotel is another one to put on the list. Their speciality is meat, lots of it, those who prefer to think of their lambs gamboling look away now! Suckling pig is the house special, I haven't sampled it personally but am told it's fantastic. The selection of fish, meat, steaks... I could eat there every night, and then wouldn't have been able to squeeze on the plane to come home! At both restaurants (esp. Capri) it's the quality of the service that makes them stand out even further. Good service is something I find establishments in the UK are lacking in - a lesson or two could be learned from our Canarian friends.

Terrific Tenerife 2

Our hotel in Adeje was ideally placed for two other fantastic places - the first being the pool club (swimming pool) and bar at the Jardin Tropical sited near Puerto Colon. Although this belongs to a hotel, the bar and restaurant are open to the public, as is the pool, complete with loungers and parasols (for a price of course). It's perched right on the edge of the cliff with spectacular views across the ocean, and conditions permitting, to La Gomera. The second place sits a little further towards Americas, at the back of the Las Cuevitas bay. The Gelatomania icecream parlour has a dizzying array of flavours from watermelon to Red Bull to Smurf!! It appears that this year even Hello Kitty and Sponge Bob got the icecream treatment. Delicious.

Terrific Tenerife 1

A lot of people get a bit sniffy about Tenerife. Sure, the Las Americas area has a reputation for boozy lads/lasses clubbing holidays and some of its hotels are somewhat faded, but there's more to South Tenerife than Americas. Head north and you'll come to the much more salubrious resort of Adeje. The hotels are newer and of much better quality; you'd struggle to find any with less than a 4star rating, the streets and the promenade are noticeably cleaner and the restaurants geared for finer dining - fewer 'all day breakfasts' on offer. Of course it comes at a price. If you want the all night nightlife whilst staying in Adeje, it requires a long walk or splashing on a taxi and day to day it's more expensive too. Our round of drinks comes in at a good 2 or 3 Euros more than in Americas, which seems like little per round, but can quickly add up over the course of a fortnight for those on a tighter budget. It's worth it though. Having been to the resort a couple of years ago, we decided to revisit and stayed at the Guayarmina Princess, a 4star hotel right on the front. Its sister hotel, the 5star Bahia Princess sits just behind it and we'd considered staying there but after consultation with a family member who has stayed several times at both, chose the Guayarmina. The room was pretty bog standard really but had a cracking shower (very important) and great views over the pool and sea. The food was lovely (don't ask how much weight I've put on - diet starts tomorrow) and the staff were polite, courteous and very helpful. The pool area, including its dedicated loo facilities, was spotless with plenty of sunloungers on terraces overlooking the sea. The one gripe I have, and it's not with the hotel or the resort but with the people in it. I know they're on holiday, but you don't take a holiday from keeping your children under control. I've never seen such unruly children or parents so disinclined to keep behaviour in check.

A cut above at El Coto

I was a little apprehensive about a girls' (sorry, girls and one token boy's) night out which included eats at El Coto. Tucked away behind Newcastle's Labour Club, you'd be forgiven for thinking it was merely a small bar, and a bit of a drab one at that, but the modest entrance leads to a corridor which leads to a world where the most wonderful things happen. We all opted for the same fixed price menu (there were four to choose from ranging in price from £14.95 to £23.95 a head). For a table of four that would mean one of each dish on that particular menu, for eight people, two of everything - odd numbers get a proportionate amount of dishes. The concern is that it's tapas, and if the portions are small, one might go hungry. I worried needlessly. There was plenty to go around, dishes like the obligatory cheese, tomato, chorizo, calamari, the tenderest beef, spicy chicken..., no-one felt as though they'd missed sampling any of the dishes and there was food left over. AND, with drinks for the table - couple of glasses of wine, pitcher of sangria etc, including tip, it came in at a very respectable 20 quid a head. (This was based on the £14.95 menu as it had the most vegetarian options on it!) Definitely one to go back to.

The pleasure's mine - PTMY

With its NY industrial loft style interior straight out of the pages of a design mag and the hype surrounding its launch at the end of May, I did worry that PTMY (Pleased To Meet You) in Newcastle would have more than a hint of pretension about it. Despite my fears, I popped along anyway, a whole 5 weeks after its opening to see what the fuss was about. Gin seems to be the in thing right now but having never been a fan I settled on a bottle of cider, my friend on the 'not quite pale ale' of Magic Hat No.9, and sat back to peruse the menu. One plate, or rather wooden board of burger for me, pulled pork of the friend later, and I've decided it's probably going to be a regular on the circuit. The ambiance is a bit, modern-day speak-easy - the music not too loud, the newspaper rods are a nice touch rarely seen these days, the display cases of beer and the menus written on old glass doors. The food was superb, the service equally so. I'm looking forward to my next visit.

Invisible Me

I'm feeling lucky to be alive. Thought I'd take a little time out this morning to go buy food. Tootling home and came within inches of being wiped out by some dozy bitch pulling into my lane without looking. Even when I blared my horn and flashed my lights at her she still appeared oblivious, as did the man in the passenger seat. Thing is, this happens quite a lot. It's only a few weeks since someone else pulled out on top of me at a junction - I had to call the police - she claims not to have seen me at all! A couple of months before that, another idiot trying to pull into the space that my car was then occupying. Again claiming "I didn't see you". Either there are too many people driving around with their eyes shut - which is a very frightening thought - or they really did perfect the invisible car, and it's mine! Perhaps James Bond might like to borrow it for his next mission.

Mail Manners

Whether one has any intention of acting on information in an email or not, how difficult is it to fire a quick reply at least acknowledging receipt? I get that people are busy, but surely that was supposed to be one of the benefits of email - that they were quick and easy. No real writing involved, no posting or searching for someone's in-tray in which to drop a printed note. Automated responses stating something has been read don't really cut it either. I have a friend who clicks open every email she gets from colleagues which then triggers the 'read' email being sent back. Has she read them? Has she hell! But here I am, not even an automated response in my inbox, not a brief, 'thanks but I haven't the time to deal with it' or even 'thanks but no thanks' - simply nothing. I feel I wouldn't get far if I played like that.

Summer's Flop

Actually, Summer hasn't quite been a flop yet. The sun has been shining and it's been warm, not that I've seen much of it - work work work. The sun however, does bring out that most heinous of fashion trends in men - the flip-flop. Not content to be relegated to holidays in the Med or pool-side, it appears they can (really?) be sported with everything. Evidently the men wearing them possess neither a full-length mirror nor a partner willing to tell them how naff they look. This week I have had the misfortune to subject my eyes to several men wearing the offending footwear with thick tracksuits, all grey with elasticated ankle cuffs, and one poor man in a suit and flip-flops. Ick. And, FFS, if men really have to wear them, at least get a pedi!

Pic. Men What to Wear 2012

Plough's in a furrow

The Plough at Dipton has been a favourite of mine for a while now. It touts fresh local produce and inventive menus at a very reasonable price and has built up a good reputation. However, once a place has achieved something good, it is required to maintain that standard and unfortunately, The Plough is allowing things to slide. The specials are uninspiring and unchanging and the quality of the food, its preparation...disappointing. Undercooked, overcooked, skimpy portions...it's fast becoming run of the mill. Sort it out Plough People - get back on the ridge!