The Restaurant

The autumnal sun was beginning to set over the rural Cheshire landscape as I embarked on my journey to Cambridge. The weather was kind and sympathetic to my plight, and all else being equal, this journey could be no worse. Cambridge itself has been the centre of learning for generations, and in modern times a hive of activity in the bio-tech environment. There are a wealth of small independent companies popping up, with a mutual knowledge base and slight differentiating factors. In my exam mode, a wonderful example of industry clustering.

It was one of these small businesses that became the destination of my journey, and although my knowledge of Bio-tech’s and science is lacking from the average Pharmaceutical employee, their numbers are still numbers that go up in the same order.

An old Chinese proverb states that a journey of one thousand miles begins with one step. In my case, the journey was about 160 miles and I was in a car. But the Chinese cannot be expected to know everything. They did well with the Olympics, and are best in class when it comes to Wall building.

My car deserves a brief mention. It was hired from Avis, who I can now publicly declare are rubbish and if you had any choice in car borrowing then please do not use this company. I do not get angry with the help very often, but on this occasion I was incensed to the point of perspiration. I won’t go into the details but take my word for it, go with Hertz.

Having said that, the actual car was very nice. It was an executive class Citroen which is not up there with the Mercedes or BMW’s of this world but still for a man of my simple pleasures, it purred along the M6 like a Siamese cat on a banister. So after a brief interlude on the toll road for a Costa coffee or as it should be called “Cost-alot Coffee”, I then reached my destination at seven o’clock.

The hotel was a lovely example of a hostelry in a semi-rural setting that’s main focus is business travel. But unlike many of the genre, the Felix Hotel was an AA 4star establishment and one that, at first impressions, I would be very comfortable in. They type of hotel that if you were paying for it yourself then you would probably have resided in one of the competition that was in more of a central location to Cambridge, but as I was enjoying the hospitality of Uncle AZ, it was more a case of a hearty clap of the hands and an enthusiastic “Happy Days”.

The restaurant was the hotels “jewel in the crown” and, as I have previously mentioned, due to the hotels remote nature, there was no other choice than to endure the nouvelle cuisine. I have two simple rules of thumb in restaurants; firstly, look at the price, if it makes you blow out your cheeks and chortle at the fact that at least you’re not paying, then it’s probably good; and also secondly, if it has items on the menu that I have no idea what they are, and more surprisingly have never even heard of, then again, it is probably good. This restaurant ticked both of these boxes.

The standard was exceptional. I have no complaints what so ever, it was first class. My fellow diners, however, you could have been excused to think were less than content. As it was a Monday evening, restaurants across the land complain of low numbers of covers, and the Felix was no exception. Apart from me there was only one other table in my half of the restaurant, obviously the half that was reserved for the more discerning diner.

“I must say, the pork is hardly, how I would describe, tender.”
“Is this a beetroot salad, or just slices of beetroot interspersed with chutney?”
“This fish reminds me of the course that we once had in Madrid.”
“Was it not in the Alps?”
“Oh, do you remember the charming little Auberge in the mountains, still the most favourable venison that I have ever experienced.”
“Do you know my favourite way of serving fish finger sandwiches is with a fine spread of Marie Rose sauce.”

This was snippets taken from the conversation to my right. As the meal progressed the comments became more and more pretentious. I could not help but snigger to myself at certain points and to my relief later on, thank goodness I was undetected.

As I was thinking to myself that this could be the most pretentious restaurant that I have ever been in, and buoyed by the glass of red wine that I had, I asked the head waiter if this was the usual standard of clientele that he could expect most evenings. To my relief he replied, “No. Those are the owners, and they are interviewing for the Head Chef.”

Finally the comments began to make sense, and like a clever film that had an unexpected twist at the end, it made me go through everything that I had witnessed and see it from another perspective. It now all made sense and the snobs had gone from pretentious snobs to loaded restaurateur snobs. A whole different category and one that can be more tolerated.

The moral of this story is to never judge a book by its cover. Perception can always be distorted. The wise man holds off on an opinion until he knows all of the facts.

Happy Days

A long time has passed since my last blog, and I can only apologise to my readership that has become dependent upon my words. We have missed the Olympics and the start of the football season, both of which would have received comment by me if we had been there. But unfortunately we are where we are, and there is no point going back over old ground. A regret in my life that I will always carry with me, like a burden upon my soul.

I feel as though I must offer some explanation for my absence. As you may know, I have two young children and this means that I do not have the spare time that once, as a youth, I had. I have decided that the novel I am writing deserves more perseverance than this journal of rants, and so I have dedicated more time to that. Therefore, due to my limited time, this blog has suffered. I now have a weekend morning to myself again though (the last one since my last blog two months ago) and I would be a mere shadow of the man I thought I was if I was to neglect you further.

You have, however, caught me in a mood of optimism about life and the journey that we are all on. I am very much in the frame that life is what you make of it, and so therefore I am attempting to whinge about things less and look on the positive of all situations more. Although this is hard in a society where I have been conditioned to whinge about even the weather, and to look positively is a lost art. I heard a quote the other day which I thought backed up my new philosophy, “There is no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothes.” Everything is about perception in life, what appears bad at first is only different to what you had expected initially. If you think of things as bad, then it will be a self fulfilling prophesy and turn out bad, but vice versa, think of things as good and watch the results pick up.

A perfect example of this happened to me last weekend. We have been told by a number of people to go to a disability play group every other Saturday, as it will be good for both Sophie and Dylan, and also it is run by parents that have been through a lot of what we are experiencing now. So anyway, reluctantly I went along, not particularly knowing what to expect, and also a long way from my comfort zone, but thinking that it will be good for Sophie.

So, we were in there for about 20 minutes introducing ourselves to the parents that had set the group up 7 years ago due to a lack of any kind of facility existing before. Everyone was very nice, and a real spirit was in the room. I started to feel really good about how I can help other people, rather than just what I can get out of it myself. When, all of a sudden, Sophie had a seizure. It was large enough for us to have to administer the rescue drug, and call an ambulance. The ambulance then proceeded to turn up and whisk us off to the Stepping Hilton without delay. Although we felt kind of embarrassed that we had created such a drama, these people had obviously been there before and were the calmest group of people that we have ever experienced in such a situation.

In my new positive framing way of life, I was able to step back from the immediate drama and contemplate how bad this really was. Obviously, it is different to how the script would have been written, and it is not the path of least resistance, but there are a lot of positives to the situation as well. While it is going on and you are involved in the heat of the moment, nothing else matters in life. Existence becomes very simple and you only have one thing to think about. It is very real, and brings out an almost primal instinct in you to save a loved one. Your confidence grows and you do the right thing naturally.

The downside to this type of event, and I feel I must give you a balanced view, is that after the initial shock is over, one has time to contemplate on all of life’s mysteries. This is when it is hard to remain completely positive. But it was not as bad this time around.

We will continue to go to the ABC Group, as they are known, and continue to help others that need it. It is something that I would probably have never been involved with if my life had not taken this route, but now it has and I have accepted it, I am happy with it. I also want to be involved with fundraising, and any other way that I can give my time to helping others. I am in a fortunate position, but it will only be realised if I do something with it. I have one friend that went to Romania to help with the orphan situation, another that teaches less fortunate children maths in his lunchtime, and another that gave football training to Down syndrome kids. The most that I have ever contributed is a bit of money that I could afford to give away. I think these people are inspirational and I want to be a bit more like that.

Anyway, it is all good at the moment, and hopefully I will not leave it so long before my next update. Happy Days!!