The most interesting thing I ate was a sebada. It's Sicilian. Gran padano cheese mixed with mint and lemon rind, stuffed in a little pastry case and deep fried, then sprinkled with honey. Mmmmm.
Then we went on to the wine-tasting. 3 quid for a (crystal) glass in a neck pouch. Two aisles of wine. I overheard some bottles were worth 45 or 60 pounds. I tasted 3 reds and one white. Surprisingly, even though two of the reds were well-aged, very woody and 14% alc. - and I drank the equivalent of half a glass total - it didn't go to my head as usual...
Miss S went home and rather than take the bus from Olympia to South Kensington, I decided to walk. Up Ken. High Street, along the park, up Queen's Gate, along Cromwell Rd to the station. Of course, with diversions to take photos of interesting things, such as some trees and sky and rooftops on Melbury Rd (near the house of the Pre-Raphaelite artist Edward, Lord Leighton) - a very pretty neighbourhood, although while I was walking up there I thought, "It's not too different to St John's Wood." No wonder so many of those artists lived in both neighbourhoods. The last time I was there, at his house, I wasn't living in SJW yet.
My other diversion was near Queen's Gate road, I saw the actual Queen's Gate. Looked sort of Queen Anne-ish.
Along Ken. High St., there was a PC World! I have needed to go to one for months now. Hi-speed internet has burned out my USB cable, which isn't meant for the purpose, and resulted in lots of disconnections lately - but it's all I had at the time. Now I have a proper extension cable and it's longer.
I also bought a program to try and fix my ailing laptop since I can't afford a new one.
[Hate to admit this, but "I can't afford" has never been part of my vocabulary...But now, my dad is getting fed up with me...I'm getting fed up with me too...]
I watched Poirot: Cards on the Table last night. He always says things that make me laugh, but yesterday's rant topped them all:
Poirot: The question is, can Hercule Poirot possibly by wrong?
Mrs Lorrimer: No one can always be right.
Poirot: But I am! Always I am right. It is so invariable it startles me. And now it looks very much as though I may be wrong, and that upsets me. But I should not be upset, because I am right. I must be right because I am never wrong.
Some of you are waiting for the Volcano post. I will do it separately later today.