For Window Wednesday this week I am featuring this little gem: Mr Fogg’s Gin Parlour. An old fashioned gin parlour that feels like an 18th century front room, right in the heart of London, tucked away between Leicester Square and Covent Garden tube stations, with a bar serving gin and afternoon tea. I had
Twitter erupted as the trailer revealing the 13th Dr Who was shown just after the Mens Wimbledon Final yesterday. To be honest I had forgotten the BBC had scheduled it to be shown then, because we haven’t watched Dr Who since Sir David of the Tennant left a few years ago. Matt Smith and Peter
I wasn’t really ready for it if I am honest. Speech day had been in my diary for a few months, I had booked the day off work and I had made sure the RSVP slip for the after presentation BBQ had been returned. But as the day approached it hit me. This
My gin of the month for July is One Gin, a gin I whose story I have followed for a while, but that I only got to taste for the first time last month. I first came across it on Kickstarter, the crowd funding site and then in one of those weird twists of
A rare blog from me, but I thought I would give you my perspective on our recent weekend away, before T gives you hers later in the week. Waterside Holiday Park invited us to come and try one of their new Safari Tents and T picked the first weekend in July, pretty much at
That is me above, right now. It isn’t, obvs, but it might as well be. So, regular readers will know that back in January another car drove into mine. Not nearly as dramatic as it sounds, I was stationary, he was doing 3 miles an hour. The damage to my car was minimal and
Sandham Memorial Chapel is one of those unexpected gems that you wouldn’t know existed unless you had done your homework. You can’t even really see it from the road, other than a sign on the pavement, and a car park across the road featuring the National Trust logo. Mr B and his parents had
We went to Brighton a couple of weeks ago and everywhere we went there are groups of women with sashes declaring who was the bride, mother of the bride, granny of the bride etc. Grown women wandering around the town centre on a Saturday afternoon with penises on headbands and L plates round their necks.