All systems go...

We had another challenging week in Portugal but came back with some reasonable compromises so I guess it was a success of sorts. I'm proud (I think) to say that I managed to find an equal compromise in terms of late nights and workload, but still got my fair share of local wines, Super Bock Stout and 10 year old port. One of the team made a trip to the supermarket across from the hotel and managed to get a bottle of whisky, gin, rum, vodka and a litre of wine for less than £11! Consensus amongst the rest of us was that it wasn't a bargain, but was in fact rude to take all of those in exchange for such a small amount of money. Perhaps we were just bitter as it was too late to do any shopping ourselves by the time he'd told us.

Food-wise, there were no real suprises until the last night when I had the chance to exorcise the demon of my last untried "guilt" food. Having previously tasted my first veal across there and felt incredibly guilty about the wonderful flavour (apparently it is a local speciality), last week's "sin" was pate de fois gras. Yes, I do know where it comes from and I know it isn't right, but I felt the need to give it a try. Quite honestly because it was bloody expensive and I wouldn't risk spending as much of my own cash without being certain that I would like it. The verdict? I'll keep that to myself for fear of losing any more readers.

Just for a laugh on the way back from the airport on Friday, I thought I'd ring my solicitor to see if anything had changed while I'd been away. Apparently all of the paperwork has changed hands and sale completes on Monday (tomorrow!). Cue busy weekend packing and collating my belongings from all corners of the folks' house and as if to add temptation to coax me away, the Tap have got that delicious Fugelstou stout back on again, so not much achieved yesterday then.

Rather more fortunately, I did stumble across a closing down sale in a local electrical store this morning so I'm now equipped with a new telly and all the kitchen gadgets I could get my scruffy mitts on. Last thing to track down is a dining suite so I can entertain the family on Christmas day, but given that I've taken the last of my holidays for the move and I've seen little available for delivery in less than a week, they could be eating from trays on their laps.

Oh, and just to add a little more fun to the proceedings, I've started sneezing for England today so a fully fledged case of man-flu is sure to follow...

Tempus Fugit...

Or rather Seany flies, as we're heading off to Portugal again in the the morning and once again at stupid o'clock. At least the weather looks something more like this time; every visit so far has been accompanied by torrential rain.

So with a bit of luck by mid week we'll be either sat back relaxing, knocking back a few caipirinhas, or fretting away in some dreary little office knocking back the espressos to try and stay awake. I think we all know which is the most likely.

Either way, Wednesday celebrates this blog's first birthday so I thought I'd start the celebrations a little early.



So, Happy Birthday Blog. Who would have thought we would make it this far?

Truth to tell, celebrations actually started earlier still as I went out for few "farewell to real ale for a few days" pints yesterday. Although the usual Hobgoblin was not available, it afforded us the opportunity to try a new one (to us) from the local Fuglestou Brewery that we discovered during the beer festival last month. Robert the Bursar Stout coming in at 4.8% is a deliciously creamy brew with a smokey yet chocolatey (I don't care if it's a real word or not) flavour.

In the meantime I guess I'll have to resort back to the Super Bock Stout for a few days...

Seconds out, round three...

We're all set for our third trip to the Iberian peninsula and it appears that the itinerary is exactly the same as the last trip. This next week has always promised to be the most challenging of the early sessions so I'm hoping we can curtail some of the late nights eating and drinking in favour of getting some serious work done and not feeling like a zombie when I get back next Friday.

WTF? I can't believe I just typed that. Methinks 'tis time to take some time off and re-align some priorities...

Claim to fame...

I went round to the bungalow tonight (hopefully for the last time before it becomes mine - or at least the bank's) to see the chap who's selling it and settle up a few things before he sets of for retirement in the Shetlands (which sounds a fantastic idea incidentally). I was discussing some of my plans for the place, not least of which to convert the smallest bedroom in to a music room and possibly at some point, a mini-studio. It's ideally sized for me to set up the guitars, keyboards, drums, amps, speakers, etc., and best of all it's on an outside wall which minimises disturbance to the neighbours.

It turns out that prior to his using it as a study, he had used it for that very same purpose. Before his current job he had spent several years trotting around the globe as a session musician working with all manner of people including Tina Turner, Smokey Robinson, the Allman Brothers, Colin Blunstone, Jeff Beck, Donovan, Rod Stewart and Agnetha and Anni-Frid's (Abba girls) solo projects produced by Phil Collins in the 80's.

Far-fetched? Everyone's a sceptic aren't they. Well I've seen photos and heard recordings to back these stories up, he has such a huge repetoire of anecdotes and is so clearly knowledgeable about his music that it dispelled any of my original doubts. What was originally intended as a flying visit to drop off a cheque and pick up a few other details turned out to be a fascinating evening.

After 15 to 20 years of it all, he decided to call it a day in favour of a more settled lifestyle and although isn't a publicly well known figure, his name (which out of courtesy I'm obviously not going to share) appears on countless album credits.

I'm just wondering if I get to keep the same phone number whether perhaps Agnetha would be interested in popping round for a cuppa? OK, perhaps that is a bit too far-fetched...

Ho Ho Ho...

It worked! Despite the emotional scars from last year's attempt, this year's Christmas shop has gone much closer to plan with everything arriving in good time, all just as described (some better) and I'm confident everyone will be happy with what they've got (trust me Sis if you're reading this!)

Not one to give up the opportunity of unecessary festive stress, it's looking extremely likely that I will be in the bungalow for Christmas, so all being well I have got little Sis's family coming to stay for a couple of days and I've got everyone round for Christmas dinner. Personally I think it's very brave of them all but not to worry, I'm getting a new barbecue from work this month as a 10-year long service award (unconventional maybe, but we get to pick our own presents and I don't really need a carriage clock). I just need to get my hands on some turkey burgers and oven chips, or perhaps I will take inspiration from the old Oxo ads and ring out for kebabs all round. Not turkey perhaps, but Turkish...

Let the games commence...

Readers who've been with me since the very beginning of this blog may well recall the fun and games I had last year trying to save time by doing all of my Christmas shopping over the internet. I was down to the last couple of days when the final delivery arrived last year, but a year later I seem to have forgotten what an incredibly stressful experience it all was.

Not one to learn from such experiences, I have just waded blindly in and done exactly the same this year but with one big difference - I've started a month earlier. Everything in stock and on it's way over the next 3-5 days - alledgedly - let's see how things work out.

If all goes well, that should leave me a bit of spare time to worry about more trivial things such as moving into the bungalow. Yes folks, we're approaching five months down the road since the offer was accepted and still no moving date. I'm assured by all sorts of people that it should be complete "any time soon" but excuse me for not getting overly enthusiastic just yet...

Make mine a large one...

After much research today, I've still not been able to find out any more about the "Las Vegas City via Brazil" restaurant we visited, but I have learnt some more about the cocktail.

It's called caipirinha (ky-pee-reen-ya) and you can find everything you ever wanted to know about them here.

All I will add is that they are absolutely delicious and when you do eventually get to try one, remember who recommended it to you and be generous if we happen to be in the same bar...

Bom dia...

Hello again - what a week that was. As expected, we had to work damned hard and therefore we felt obliged to play even harder.

We arrived at the Radisson Hotel at Stansted airport around 9:00pm Sunday and only intended to sneak in a quick pint before turning in early in anticipation of the early flight Monday morning. However, we were all fascinated by the wine tower in the bar and felt compelled to stay and watch the girls serving bottles of wine by means of pulleys, steel cables and a variety of gymnastic manoevres. End result - late night and several pints.

Incidentally, if you ever need to fly from Stansted, I thoroughly recommend staying at this hotel. Check in was laboriously slow, but well worth the wait as the rooms are superb and the terminal building is accessed via a covered walkway from right outside the hotel front door. It cost us £85 for the night and this also entitles you to leave your car there for only £7.50 per night - half the price of the Heathrow long stay car park I'd paid a couple of weeks ago.

4:30am rise next morning to check out of the hotel by 5:30 and check in for our flight by 6:00, departure 6:40, arrived at the office 9:15 and worked until 18:30 before leaving to check in at the Hotel Dighton. The hotel was a pleasant enough place; obviously very impressive in it's day but now sadly seems to have lost some of it's sparkle. That said, at €€47.50 per night including breakfast, we really shouldn't have been pitching our expectations too high.

I'm not going to elaborate on the work side of the trip; it was very intense and tiring and we were all glad to be back on our way home Friday morning. However, the food was plentiful in quantity and variety.

Monday: breakfast - coffee & croissant; lunch - green soup, grilled "meat"; dinner (at the Dighton after a 2 hour wait) - mushroom & bacon in cheese sauce, ox fillet washed down with some local (Douro) red wine and finished of course with a couple of bottles of Grahams 10 year old tawny port (between the 9 of us of course!)

Tuesday: breakfast - couldn't decide between English (hot dog sausage, panchetta and scrambled eggs) or continental (bread roll, cheese & various sliced meats), so I opted for both! Lunch - pasta water, or perhaps it was clear soup, followed by fish with pickles; dinner - (giving the hotel a well-deserved second chance) melon and ham, followed by a delicious concoction of duck, rice and cheese. More red wine but they ran out of 10 year old port so we had to settle for a couple of bottles of 20 year old (shame!)

Wednesday: breakfast - as yesterday; lunch - yellow soup, fish & shredded potato; dinner was a Brazilian feast at "Las Vegas City via Brazil" (sorry no web site to link to). Situated about 10 minutes away from Vale de Cambra, we were bombarded with a multitude of different meats and snacks ranging from garlic soused steaks to chicken hearts. I'll try and find some more info and post about it again at a later point largely because they serve these incredibly more-ish cocktails that I must find out more about.

Thursday: breakfast - same again; lunch - more indescribable soup, breaded "meat" somewhat reminiscent of schnitzel; dinner - back to the Porto Palacio for our last night and some five star indulgence. Started with duck with fig salad served on a sweet potato and chestnut mash; saddle of lamb for the main course and a fig/cream/hazelnut dessert. I also discovered Super Bock Stout which tastes nothing like our stout but is a delicious dark beer.

Friday: time to go home - food took a second priority in favour of getting home as quickly as possible to get re-acquainted with my old friend the Hobgoblin. All week we had been forced to drink their excessively over caffeinated espressos so I took great delight in telling them all that we were going home where things are the right way round - the coffee may be weak but the beer is strong.

Now, I seem to recall buying a running machine a few months ago. I wonder where I left it...