Last Friday we went to Bramhall (near Stockport and Manchester) to stay with friends Chris and Sue. Chris is an old schoolfriend of Rod's and was his best man at our wedding many, many years ago. Sue is his friend. She's a widow and a very charming lady who works for Social Services. It's a thankless task in some ways, which no doubt explains why the staff turnover is high and the caseload overflowing, yet it can be very rewarding in others.
The journey there was pretty tedious especially the seemingly interminable time we spent stationary in the ouside lane of the M1, or moving at a speed that would've given an arthritic tortoise a sporting chance at racing us. We also crawled through Chesterfield, home of 'The Church with the Twisted Spire'. We're sure it's more twisted than it was last time we saw it.
We broke the journey at Bakewell in Derbyshire, for which my right knee was profoundly thankful. Derbyshire has some splendidly romantic scenery - romantic in a Byronic sense, rather than Mills and Boon (Harlequin for our American cousins) - and the town of Bakewell is little gem with an interesting pack-horse bridge. There are triangular projections out over the river at regular intervals to provide passing places for pedestrians to step aside out of the way of carriers' carts in days gone by.
Bakewell also has The Original Bakewell Pudding Shop. Forget Mr. Kipling. Bakewell puddings aren't remotely like anything with a similar name you may have come across in a supermarket. It came about as the result of a misunderstanding and proved to be a great success. The recipe is still a closely guarded secret.
I wasn't particularly hungry so just settled for a small Bakewell pudding and a caffè 'latte. The latter was a minor work of art with bands of creamy milk and coffee, frothy milk on top and sprinkled with chocolate.
"And don't you dare stir it!" the waitress admonished.
I didn't dare. Not that I wanted to as it was such a treat to the eye as well as the taste buds. Fortunately, I've been able to kick the sugar habit in coffee recently. Strangely, I discovered that Java, about the strongest coffee I've encountered, doesn't need it. Instant still does though.
Some time later, the waitress (who'd created the confection) came back and said a little guiltily:
"I was only joking..."
I still didn't stir it.
On Saturday, we all went into Manchester and dined at the Dutch Pancake House at the top of Oxford Road. It's a basement restaurant that's a firm favourite with us, and a must for anyone who likes pancakes. These are served on blue and white Delft plates which are at least eighteen inches in diameter and very likely more. This might seem like an exaggeration, but isn't.
The pancakes usually come spread out flat with a very wide permutation of toppings. Chris had a Hawaiian, Sue had bananas with chocolate sauce on hers and Rod had a vegetable curry, which came with the pancake folded over, the other part of the plate taken up by a dish of mango chutney and mini-poppadums. I went for my usual - the traditional Dutch combination of bacon and maple syrup. Now don't knock it till you've tried it! Being a culinarily adventurous soul, I took the risk many years ago and found it delicious.
Afterwards, I made my way to my spiritual home in Manchester - Waterstone's Book Shop. I'm not remotely interested in buying new clothes or furnishings, but point me in the direction of a good book shop... My bank balance is now around a hundred and fifty quid lighter. Good thing we only visit Manchester around once a year! Most of my purchases were reference books. One that wasn't is a Latin translation of 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone'. Yes, I really am that sad! Sadder still, I can actually read it.
The highlight of the visit was the 'Mardi Gras' parade. This was a part of the tenth EuroPride event, a ten day festival in support of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered people. The aim of the event was to increase understanding, tolerance and inclusivity. We were aware of Mardi Gras but thought it would probably not take place until later on in the day. However, while I was browsing in the language section of Waterstone's, sounds of very loud music came booming in from outside.
Being a curious mortal, I went over to a window to see what was going on. Thus, I had a grandstand view of the whole parade. There were many colourful floats, extremely loud music - different rock songs from each float, it seemed - amazing costumes in brilliant colours including a spectacular inflated purple spiky outfit like a three-dimensional star which must have been about ten feet from point to point. The costumes of some of the male participants left very little to the imagination. 8-) Several groups were walking on stilts and there were also a number of people doing handsprings and other acrobatics, one wearing an impish bright red lycra body-stocking. It certainly seemed a very well organized and, I hope, successful event.
All in all, it was a very enjoyable weekend.