Clubhouse Sunday lunch
Posted: 09 Oct 2016, 14:51The trip has, officially, started.
We cannot believe how much we have achieved in the last 36 hours; final clearing and cleaning of my father's house for exchange of contracts on Monday, multiple trips to the local charity shops and the recycling centre. Yorkshire to Avon, and Avon to Heathrow, by car.
Sleeping bags on the floor on Friday night, with a very decent Indian meal and a pint of Cobra, to the Sofitel T5 last night, with a brilliant bed, salmon papadella and Bulleit Bourbon.
On-line check in was, somewhat, delayed by an insistence for my FC account number, rather than the 0500500500 already in the system.
Waking to natural light, this morning, an Earl Grey tea, shower, iron shirts and redistribute weight between the suitcases.
Check-out in less than a minute, a taxi from T5 to T3 (£20 but less hassle, with six cases, than the bus or tube), and a slight delay at UC check-in as we managed to get into the queue for reservation advice rather than baggage drop.
Ascendency in the lift to the quiet of the VS security lane, some extended banter on tattoos and piercings, a seamless passage through the 'duty free' area, and up the steps to the Clubhouse.
The usual warm welcome, bag and coat drop and straight past the delicatessen for Egg (singular) Royale (no Burger King, here) and Florentine; the first that I have ever eaten with non-steamed spinach?
One treatment booked for Lauren; a complimentary head massage; where has all the 'free' stuff gone?
Then a trip to WH Smith for a trio of books, back to the Clubhouse for our first drinks, two Long Island Iced Teas, as it was after mid-day, Lauren's massage and a dependency into A Virgin Redhead (social comment; have you ever had a Virgin Redhead? Yes.), Sex on the Beach and Lanson Black Label.
Fast forward to the steamed mussels in cider and a Clubhouse burger, preceded by rather yummy confit duck.
60 minutes until departure; time to pick up a USB lead.
We cannot believe how much we have achieved in the last 36 hours; final clearing and cleaning of my father's house for exchange of contracts on Monday, multiple trips to the local charity shops and the recycling centre. Yorkshire to Avon, and Avon to Heathrow, by car.
Sleeping bags on the floor on Friday night, with a very decent Indian meal and a pint of Cobra, to the Sofitel T5 last night, with a brilliant bed, salmon papadella and Bulleit Bourbon.
On-line check in was, somewhat, delayed by an insistence for my FC account number, rather than the 0500500500 already in the system.
Waking to natural light, this morning, an Earl Grey tea, shower, iron shirts and redistribute weight between the suitcases.
Check-out in less than a minute, a taxi from T5 to T3 (£20 but less hassle, with six cases, than the bus or tube), and a slight delay at UC check-in as we managed to get into the queue for reservation advice rather than baggage drop.
Ascendency in the lift to the quiet of the VS security lane, some extended banter on tattoos and piercings, a seamless passage through the 'duty free' area, and up the steps to the Clubhouse.
The usual warm welcome, bag and coat drop and straight past the delicatessen for Egg (singular) Royale (no Burger King, here) and Florentine; the first that I have ever eaten with non-steamed spinach?
One treatment booked for Lauren; a complimentary head massage; where has all the 'free' stuff gone?
Then a trip to WH Smith for a trio of books, back to the Clubhouse for our first drinks, two Long Island Iced Teas, as it was after mid-day, Lauren's massage and a dependency into A Virgin Redhead (social comment; have you ever had a Virgin Redhead? Yes.), Sex on the Beach and Lanson Black Label.
Fast forward to the steamed mussels in cider and a Clubhouse burger, preceded by rather yummy confit duck.
60 minutes until departure; time to pick up a USB lead.
