Is This Really What We're Famous For?
Saturday 18/12/2004
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Diary and Notes
I'm back - yippee! I had a great time with my German chums, but coming home to the rain, the grey skies and the pollution, feels like the best thing that could ever happen to a poor weary traveller like me.
My plane left late and I arrived in London early evening - some time later than I had hoped. My niece Riann picked me up at the station and drove me all the way from London to a tiny little village in the stupid lands (Wiltshire). It's worth noting that the village I'm staying in (Oaksey) is famous for having a church with an ancient stone carving of a woman with a giant pendulus vulva hanging between her legs (people could rarely afford to have prolapses treated before the NHS was founded). She also seems to have a fairly large pair of bazoomas (spent the money for the prolapse operation on breast implants no doubt), or perhaps she just needs to shave under her armpits. These Sheela-Na-Gig can be found on quite a few old churches and are thought to be omens, foretelling the coming of an evil witch named Jill, who will enslave the middle classes with her innane gibbering about holidays in the Maldives and growing up on a sheep farm in Australia.
Anyway, by the time I arrived it was getting late, too late to cook, also the house I was staying in is inhabited by old folks who live almost exclusively on a diet of potatoes and cheap sausages, so until I got shopping, cooking was out of question. So what's the answer Jonny Boy? What can you get to eat, in a village fifty years behind the rest of civilisation, miles from a good gastro-pub, on a cold December night, whilst the werewolves and vampires run loose on Minety Moor?
Fish and chips anybody?
It wasn't my idea but what else could I do? The one thing that everybody outside of Britain thinks we eat every day and the first day I'm back that's what I eat. Shame on me. We drive into Malmesbury and buy fish and chips to eat at home. It wasn't horrid. It was good to have proper chips for the first time in months. The fish was crispy and with enough bottled sauces to give the meal some 'oomph' I didn't mind. It would have been nice to be greeted with a massive medieval banquet to welcome me home. Some fried spuds and greasy fish will have to do. No wonder I prefer curry.
Cake Blog
A lemon bakewell tart from a box. Horrid. Overly sweet and powdery. If I could remember what company made them I'd write them a letter complaining.
Menu
Battered Fish (Cod I think)
Chips
Bread
Every sauce from every bottle I could find (mayonnaise, HP, Encona Hot Pepper Sauce, Branston Pickle, Mustard, Tomato Sauce...)
JCBorresen@gmail.com