Thirsday was my Thirtieth birthday. Rather predictably I celebrated with liberal helpings of beer and curry. Rather unpredictably a colleague turned up half way through my night out and presented yours truly with a chocolate birthday cake with the numbers three and zero depicted in candles. It has been a long time since anyone went to so much trouble for my birthday, and for a moment there I was lost for words!
On Saturday I took the train via Reading and Guilford to Epsom. Out of curiosity on Sunday we took lunch at the newly reopened Rising Sun now part of the ever expanding Wells and Young empire. The new incumbents have a tough task ahead of them if they are hoping to win over any of the former regulars. And in spite of the excellent food, whatever Youngs do, for some of us who recall the old Riser, the new Rising Sun is simply n “ordinary” pub, run by ordinary people selling ordinary beer.
I have just polished off a mixed grill while waiting to board my flight from Heathrow to Vienna where I will be spending the next week or so visiting my father. Looking forward to relaxing, reading, and maybe the odd game of chess.