Taint of the Tate

After having half of Wednesday and all of Thursday off work, I thought I'd take things a bit easy this weekend...ease up on la dolce vita a little. So when Lex suggested we get together for a drink after work on Friday night, the responsible thing to do was to go home and rest.

So we trotted off to the Gypsy Moth Pub in Greenwich, which I would consider an adequate compromise. Feeling like I could do with some wholesome sustenance to combat the evil mucous producing disease that festers within me, I of course ordered the fish and chips (and mushy peas...what is with those?) and Lex and I shared a bottle of wine (antioxidant injection). It was a great night for a natter (if a little chilly in the beer garden, but the fresh air is also good for my recuperation no doubt). I did manage to get home at a reasonable hour though (no mad dash for the last train for this young lady that night!).

However, upon my arrival back at Chateau d' Thames, the clan were in the midst of an ethanol bonanza. The lounge room being my bedroom, it turned into a bit of a late one after all, and I got to bed around 2 am. I looked forward with giddy anticipation to the wake up call from the 17 month old at around 6 am, as I do each Saturday and Sunday morning.

Saturday saw the weekly pilgrimage to the grocery megastore in the morning, where, by some obscure twist of fate, some camembert and roquefort cheese fell into the shopping basket as I swanned through one of the dairy aisles. On arrival back at Chateau d'Thames, the plan was to pack up the goodies and kick back in the Thames Barrier Park next door with some wine, the cheese and a damn good book to while away the afternoon.

The universe, a spiteful beast from time to time, decided that the glorious sun that had shone with such warmth and enthusiasm up to that point, promptly withdrew the restorative UV rays, and replaced them with the miserable and ominously dark clouds I have come to know and love. We therefore consumed our delicatessan style delicacies in the comfort of the lounge room and watched as the clouds dumped an impressive rain shower for some hours.

After all the excitement of Saturday, I was ready for round 2 on Sunday. I met Cels at London Bridge station, and we tottered off in search of a hearty lunch. We ended up at a lovely pub on the water, where, alas, all the seats were taken. We ended up in the secluded beer garden at the back (sans view, but a fabulous table in the sun!). After perusing the menu and deciding on pies for us both, it was agreed that a sunny English day called for a summer English drink. Pimm's and lemonade all round! They even serve it with wedges of citrus fruits and strawberry and mint. A veritable cocktail of colour! Unfortunately, they were out of the fish pie I wanted, so a decision under pressure meant I got fish and chips (twice in two days...and enough for a lifetime I would think).

But lunch was not the sole purpose of our trip to the city. With our bellies satisfied, we trotted off to the Tate Modern Museum. Good lord, what a horrid disappointment that is! I think I could have done the entire 7 storey building in 30 minutes, but my affliction with the consumption held me back a little, and I slipped into a coma on level 5 whilst Cels was wandering through one of the exhibits.

Just so you don't think I am a cultureless hack, I will be heading off to a performance of Romeo and Juliet tomorrow night in Battersea. And if I don't do my usual trick of resting my eyes for a good chunk of the time, I will dazzle you with my artistic critique and insight later in the week. I'm sure that'll have you waiting with bated breath...