| February 2010 |
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GLOBAL WARMING EDITION A very happy New Year to all our readers & feeders. Well, what a start to the second decade of this new millennium - massive amounts of snow and reports of a very professional looking full size igloo on the Racecourse. Clearly the impact of all the CO2 we collectively produced over the festive period has as yet not impacted on the planet- does this mean they’ve been wrong about sprouts or am I suffering from gaseous confusion? “En familie” we scuttled off almost straight after New Years day to go skiing in Italy. In the very pretty village where we stayed, there was initially less snow than we had here but by the time we left, the Dolomites were well ahead. Those of you, who know me well, will be aware that my skiing career started very late in my life and to say that I didn’t exactly take to it like a “duck to water” would be a substantial understatement. I freely admit to a complete lack of knowledge of any of the relevant jargon and I promise that this is the only reason I jumped at the chance of a solid week “On the Piste”. My first foray to Austria was a week spent clinging desperately to sheds, trees, man hole covers and in fact anything else that stood a chance of halting my plummet down any gentle incline. Real slopes were entirely out of the question. On the upside I was easily the best in my ski class at getting up after falling over, because I’d had a massive amount more practice. So much so that opening the vents on the legs of my skiing trousers released jets of steam- an excellent party trick.  By the end of the week I was able to bring myself to a reasonably controlled stop and was slightly less of a danger to anybody else who fancied their chances on the hill. By now most of you will be thinking that I am far too clever to think of repeating this madness and that I’d hang up my bobble hat and stick to Gluhwein swallowing, at which I was Olympic standard, in no time and with virtually no training at all. Not a bit of it- a couple of years of amnesia and the promise of an even more exotic location and we were off to Finland. This was substantially more successful; mainly because there were a raft of other diversions which cut down the skiing time, dog sled driving, reindeer driving, ice fishing and in the evening very formal ballroom dancing reduced my exposure to gravity. You polished skiing people will have no conception of the horror, difficulty and humiliation that being absolutely useless at it brings. So another week survived, no bones broken, only pride dented and a minute amount of progress made. Anyway, this time, before we took off, the ground rules were established and there was to be no skiing for me; aaaaah! Now you might have thought that would be the end of the trauma related to gravity and the sudden disappearance of any adhesion to the planet; but you’d be wrong. Day two or three of the newest adventure saw the three non skiers intent on a gentle mountain walk to gain a better vantage point to view the progress and or discomfort of the three rookie snowboarders in our party, as they battled with technique and the shaky English of their instructors. Going off piste in substantial walking boots should have been a breeze except that the forest track was almost entirely sheet ice thinly covered/disguised with a light dusting of snow and a few pine needles. Some 25 minutes on from deciding I was not going any nearer the sun, even if the other two were intent on onwards & upwards, I found myself for the 4th time in as many minutes on all fours making slow but safe and painful progress back down the path heading for a very appealing shed. My hat was full of twigs and my wonderfully cool sunglasses were somewhere up the mountain and were staying there! It might be some time before I’m persuaded that skiing is such a good thing to do on holiday, even as a spectator.  UPDATE... UPDATE... UPDATE...
PRICES & MENUS  We have been struggling to work out how best to deal with the vagaries of Gordon Brown's Yo-Yoing VAT rates and reluctantly decided that rather than closing for two days to re-programme the till with an extra bit of VAT, we decided to increase the price of our Worms menu (it has been at £12.50 for over 3 years!) by a modest £1.00. We really hope that you’ll think it is still excellent value for money. We continue to be pleased by the response to the format and choice provided by the Worms menu and hope that you like the February offering. Watch out for a major re-vamp of the A la Carte menu to coincide with spring and the March Worms menu. MOTHERING SUNDAY ~ 14TH OF MARCH I’m never sure exactly who decides on the timings of these movable feasts. Anyway 2010 sees a very early Easter and perhaps that also means an early Mother’s Day. It is by a country mile our biggest Sunday of the year and any of you who have been with us over the last few years will know that we rise to the challenge and provide a really good experience. We are not given to trumpet-blowing but on this occasion we are going to make an exception. We look after big numbers of people very well and our Sunday lunch which is always special, stand this test brilliantly. This year we are taking bookings from 12.00 midday, until 4.00 p.m., and then a short break until the evening, when we open again for dinner service. You’ll need to book early....
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So apart from clearly spending a whole heap of time describing what occupied my first week of 2010, you could be forgiven for wondering if anything new is going to happen at The Walls in 2010. In fact I was absolutely horrified to discover that the last full version of the WSJ was published around the time of Oswestry show! I cannot blame writer's block or lack of things to write about and my only excuse is that I’ve been too busy. So firstly let me do a quick sweep up of events you might have missed.
