Of going to London and having visitors

I know it's an old cliché but as of late, more than ever before, the fact that I am getting older and, er, wiser (ehem) has hit home big time. Looking back on the last few years and as much as I spent quite some time in Argyland travelling, walking, hiking and camping (where did I get the energy from? I wonder), given the choice and the opportunity I just love spending hours at home simply 'pottering around' (the Britishness of this word scares me...) I've still some way to go as far as achieving domestic goddess status (not that I would ever aspire to be labelled in such a trite, ridiculous way anyway), namely:

- I am not bothered by chores unless I can't get out of them (it's amazing how many perfectly reasonable excuses there are to put them off);
- I have zero gardening skills or knowledge. Having grown up in an urban cement jungle, the furthest I ever got with regards contact with 'nature' was watering the plants in my mum's balcony (and overflowing the pots!) and doing one of those experiments for school where I had to plant a seed in a jar and make sure it sprung properly (again, mum to the rescue).

But, as excessively and obsessively well documented on this blog, somewhere along the way I have become what might be called a 'foodie', although I object to the implications of this word which, in my eyes, are intertwined with poncy, pretentious gourmet, molecular, over-priced and overrated chefs with egoes the size of a small country. The web has given me an outlet in which I have found that a lot of people out there are as insane as I am, thinking of food 24/7 and easily spending hours each day looking at it, imagining it, preparing it and even dreaming about it! If somebody'd told me a few years ago that I would become so passionate about food, I would have laughed in their face...

I was never exactly a 'party girl'. By British standards, I was practicaly a nun! The most I had were a couple of drinks every so often, I never ever tried drugs or smoked (however, I stupidly did take up smoking well after 20 but thankfully it's over and out now) and I went out and had fun in very civilised ways...not like the kids today and their raunchy antics! (and thinking like this is another reason why I'm definetely getting old).

The truth is I am happy living in a quiet, leafy town with just enough movement to satisfy the need for shops/contact with human beings if needed but also plenty of empty, green, beautiful areas where you can wonder around alone without interference, noise, traffic or any of the ailments of modern urban life. I was painfully reminded of how different my life is now to what it was some time ago yesterday when I had to go to London to get some immigraton advice (which after hours of waiting, I never got!). It's the second time in about a month that I have had to go and I always see this as a chance to catch up with friends which I really look forward to...Unfortunately, I am way too optimistic and I obviously do not remember what travelling in London is actually like! The train was delayed (surprise, surprise); I ran to my destination (via two lines of underground) and when trying to find the number 190 on Great Dover Street, it turns out that it is not on the side of the even numbers (as it should!!! Am I right?) but with the odd numbers...How ridiculous is that? By the time I realised that I was walking in the wrong direction and I got back to where I was supposed to go (which, incidentaly, was right opposite the station, staring me in the face!) I was over half an hour late which meant I got the last number and had to wait nearly 3 hours to be seen! When I finaly did (because I pushed my way in) I did not have a recent bank statement and they said they couldn't see me! In a hot panic, I ran to the bank only to be met with another queue, then dashed back sweating and panting to finally be told that I had to pay anyway and that I would get an appointment to come again...By now, I had been forced to cancel my coffee rendezvous with a friend and was left to kill off 2 hours until getting the train back at off-peak time to avoid paying the extortionate fares they would otherwise charge me for the privilege...Needless to say, I got home stressed, famined (I could not eat until almost 5pm!) and in desperate need of a whole day to recover mentally and physically from the ordeal. London's absolutely brilliant for food choices, touristy attractions and the immense pleasure of knowing that you are going back home after visiting it, wherever that might be but certainly not there!

By the way, I've got a family of three visiting this weekend! They are staying over with a baby (adorable and all but still: a real baby!) and I'm starting to panic thinking what to cook for lunch, dinner and then lunch again...I don't want to go overboard and yet I'd like to make something special...So far, I've narrowed it down to about 5 options! Help....Off to do some more research, then shopping, then prepping...Domestic moi?