Capital

Back home in Sheffield now. The Thursday that I predicted pretty much all came true.

A wooden back door in the property had become kind of jammed - no doubt swollen by winter weather. I had to use a chisel and sandpaper to relieve the pressure and ensure that that door was lockable once more. On another occasion, I will share some of the painful details about this flat and where Frances and Stewart are with it all.

My good value Travelodge room was excellent - newly remodelled, clean and warm. It also had a welcome reading lamp on the desk and in total I must have spent around three hours just sitting there engrossed in the novel I am currently reading.

At seven thirty, as planned, I went across Wood Green High Street to the "Capital" Turkish restaurant. It was a heavenly dining experience from the welcome I received when I walked in to the efficient settling of my bill at the end.

There was no interminable waiting, drumming my fingers on the table. I glanced at the menu and then my waiter came over. I ordered the predictable "EFES" beer and a large lamb shish kebab.

Five minutes later my beer arrived with the complimentary starter. This consisted of a substantial bowl of fresh and colourful salad in a balsamic dressing + a basket of warm pitta bread + a small square dish of tzatziki + a small square dish of fresh hummus with olive oil drizzled over it + a slightly spicy tomato salsa + yoghurt sauce +  tomato sauce. 

As I was consuming this mini-feast of mouth-watering loveliness my shish kebab arrived. Chunks of tender marinated lamb from the barbecue grill, charred sweet peppers, a dome of perfectly cooked  white  rice and yet more home-baked pitta bread slices. I was living my culinary dream and in fact I could not manage all of the starter combo.

When I was done, the waiter quickly spotted my subtle non-verbal signalling and came over to ask if there was anything else I required. "Just the bill please", I grunted in my rough Yorkshire accent.

Three minutes later, he returned with the bill and a complimentary dessert - a simple chunk of Turkish sponge cake in a light syrup, dusted with crushed pistachios. Mmmm...

This morning, Frances and I went across the main road to Charlie's Cafe and Bakery for excellent breakfasts with coffees before the long drive back Up North that became longer than we thought because of an accident on the M1. 

Her satnav, sweet-talking  Janice, played silly buggers with us as she took us off on a zigzagged detour that encompassed the wildest lanes upon the eastern moors of Derbyshire. Fortunately, the fearsome Storm Éowyn was only blowing meekly - like a four year old child puffing out her birthday candles. Eventually - we made it home. A three and a half hour journey had turned into a five hour one.