On the road again: Quick trip to London

Having though that traveling adventures were over for a few weeks, I found out late Monday afternoon that my boss wanted me instead of him to go to london for a conference. Normally I would baulk at a trip to hectic london full of people rushing along on the human conveyor belt, but there's a friend I want to look up, so I take the chance(I'm not sure I had the option)

London to a Scotsman is a god awful place. It's not foreign enough to be interesting, and it's too foreign to be home. Everyone moves too fast, it's too busy, and the locals are fond of that whiney english accent that sends chills up a Scotsman's spine - it's kind of an instilled racism

I've been to London a few times before. My father's brother's live down there, so I've seen most of the sites through family holidays years ago. Since then, I've attended the odd meeting or conference, and it's been okay - but ultimately it's still London.

I get a reasonably long lie before I head off to the airport. Saturday was the 15th Anniversary of Pearl Jam's first show, so I listen to the bootleg as the tram trundles along the familiar route to Amsterdam Centraal:





The bootleg I have starts with the Mamasan trilogy. This was a three track instrumental demo tape which Stone Gossard(PJ Guitarist and founder) gave to Jack Irons(Former drummer of Red Hot Chili Peppers) with a view to hiring him to join the band which was rising from the ashes of Mother Love Bone. Jack Irons gave it to a mate of his who he played basketball with called Eddie Vedder. Ed dubbed vocals onto the tape, creating the tracks, Alive, Once and Footsteps. He went off to seattle, and thus history was made.

The trilogy tells the story of a boy who found out that his father wasn't his real father, and that his real father was family friend who died.(Alive) That's what happened to Ed. After this we move into poetic license. "Once" tells the story of the boy who confused with life becomes a serial killer and can't find the answers to the questions which plagued him. Footsteps is a lovely acoustic B-side which tells of the serial killer on Death row who hears his mother's footsteps in the hall, but she can't make it all the way along to visit him.

These three songs show the strength of Pearl Jam; seventies based guitar rock with great musicianship and blistering solos(Alive), foot to the floor punk influence rockers(Once) and delicate beautiful acoustic which show that the emotion is real(Footsteps).

Anyway - it gets me from home to Schiphol. This is the first time since Copenhagen that I've been off travelling alone, and I have to say it feels great to be back on the road. The train's, planes and buses don't bother me, providing I've got something to read and and an iPod to listen to. Purely by chance, I picked a novel at random from my bookshelf of unread books and end up with "Tooth & Nail" by Ian Rankin:



It's main theme is that of John Rebus the scottish detective feeling out of place when working in London, so it's quite apt.

By now, I'm on the very quick(45 minute) journey to London gatwick, I barely have time to select a new album on my iPod before, we landed, and I'm shuffling onto a train to central London. My main objective on the train(Apart from tappping my feet to Guns N' Roses) is to work out where my hastily booked hotel is in relation to where my train lands(Victoria). My knowledge of London is terrible, but without any hitches, I manage to take the circle line to Notting Hill gate to reach my hotel around Portabello Road.

London is strange, it seems like you've heard almost every street, underground or district in a television programme or film, but you're not really sure of the significance of it. If I had lots of time, I would get off at various stops on the underground just to see what that area was about.

It's late by the time I've settled, so I head of to Marks and Spencer(British food!!!!), to get a snack before heading off to a bar with a scottish paper. It feels very British. I have a quiet pint and enjoy reading my paper, before heading back for an early night.

The next day, I take it slowly again. I need to be in hammersmith. London is manageable if you take it nice and slow and are not tempted to try to keep up with the rest of the communters. My whole london trip is like this, and it passes quite quickly.

My flight back is early in the morning and from London Luton. I need to make it back to Amsterdam for a meeting. I'm up at 5am, and heading by public transport to the North of London. It takes forever, but once I'm awake, I settle into it. Reading my book, grooving to pink floyd and generally people watching.

A real uper class tory comes on the train. He is a characterture of himself. He displays an air of authority and money. The blue blazer with the gold buttons and the daily mail under his arm. If he is as wonderful and upper class as he thinks... What is he doing on second class??

At one station two girls get on the train. They have clearly just come froma club and provide a stark contrast to the brain dead fast asleep commuters. I'm not sure where they had been, but although it is late October, they are wearing hot pants, bikini tops and feather boas. The Black girl has an absolutely wonderful bum and she's dancing and waving it around. I can't help giggling as Mr.Dailly Mail humphs and disapproves, while his eyes stray to look at her backside. London - indeed a cosmpolitan city.

..... well, it wasn't as bad as I thought, I'll have less dread in visiting London in the future.....

The Shamrock

Tonight we are off to a bar in the West of Amsterdam. A friend of mine runs Jam session's there, and they are having a benefit night, so they asked me to head along.

I take The Kiwi to see the other side of Amsterdam. It's a far stretch from the tourist bars of the centre, and the clientele tend to be ex-pat nutters, who have woken up several years ago in Amsterdam and decided to stay.

The jam session's can be good fun, and I've joined in a couple of times, but it gets a little repetitive(just like being in a band), so I wouldn't want to go every week. It's probably over a years since I've been though, so I can't complain.

When we arrive, you can barely get in the door. It's a popular Sunday night drinking venue, and the benefit has made it even more so. We have a pint of Guinness outside the pub and wait for my Dutch colleague who was out with us on Friday night.



It's an Irish bar, so the Guinness is pretty good. By the time my colleague arrives, the bar has got busier and the music has got louder, so we head across the road to another bar and have a few drinks there. The local worthies have recently had a lads trip to Glasgow, so they are keen to tell me all about it. They seem to have enjoyed themselves. We generally have a good laugh, and The Kiwi is shocked when a Dutchman buys us a beer(They are famously stingy)

Eventually we head over the road again, and listen to the music for a bit, but we don't stay for long, as it's a school night.

Yet another pub conquered.......

Saturday night in the other Gollem

Another quiet saturday. we are getting very heavy rain, so the will to leave the house and take to the weather beaten streets with a hangover is not strong. Our German friend who was in Japan for a month got back yesterday, so she comes over for a cuppa, saving us from leaving the house for want of something to do.

It's Saturday night, and we feel we should be off out on a great adventure, but it just doesn't seem to be happening tonight. Maybe this is the start of the depressing amsterdam winter where people party and socialise less and the city winds down to recover from the tourist heavy summer. We're going to settle on a few beers with the lads at the 2nd Gollem. It's good night of talking about nothing which ends reasonably early.

I get soaked on the way home.

The one good thing that came out of the night is that we introduced The Kiwi to the "Don't mention the war" episode of Fawlty Towers:



Cleese: "Everyone stop talking about the war!!!"
German:"You started it"
Cleese: "No I didn't. You invaded Poland"

Comic Genius(Even though it is a little racisit)

Slaap Lekker.....

Friday night in the gollem

I had a bitch of a week at work. I had my plate full, and my boss was out of the country, so there was less of the camraderie, and more of the head down, music blaring, smoke coming off the keyboard atmosphere. By the time I'm finished the week, I'm glad it's friday. I head home to fill my belly ready for a weekend on the town. I've not enjoyed work allw eek, so I know I'm going to be keen to make the most of the weekend.

Eventually the phone calls are made, and we are heading for the Gollem. No-one could make up their mind, so we kind of gravitated towards there:



I'm going to have to stop writing about it here. It is the busiest I've ever seen it. Even worse, I think we know more than half the people in the bar. I'm late, so I have my first few beers standing on the street, where my parents phone from America where they are visiting my sister. I'm am on the St. Bernardus tonight:



There is yet another Kiwi visiting, and all the kiwi's in the bar inevitably know him via some drinking mate. All the usual suspects are here, Bulgarian friends, Work colleagues, new friends, old friends, flatmates - the lot. The drink flows, and it really feels like a friday night.

After a long night of getting rid of the memories of a week of work, someone suggests we go and visit a small bar where one of the kiwi girls has started working. It's a new bar on me, and I can't remember the name.(we took so many wrong turnings to get there, I can barely remember the location), but I'm sure we'll be in there again.

Before long, I'm ready to cycle home. Friday nights are frustrating - you want to party all night, but your body just wnats to sleep.

Back in the Kitchen: Multicultural dinner

Following on from a spring cleaning session to while away a hangover and our Sunday night sesh in Belgique, tonight I am hosting a Multicutural dinner. Present will be delegates from Scotland, Bulgaria, Moldovia and New Zealand.







The menu originally intended to reflect lots of samples of the cuisine from these nations, but I failed in an attempt cook meringues, so the New Zealand dish of Pavlova went tits up.(Let's be honest, the failure was predicated on my attempt to rush things and get a last orders beer in before bad after slaving away in the kitchen) So the menu is as follows:

Oatcakes and cheese:


Scotch Broth:


Then the main courses, was a kind of Tapas of various things:

Shopska Salata:


Moldovian Potato Salad:


Butter bean Bulgarian Hot Pot(I misread the ingredients, so it turned out to be green bean)


Bulgarian Tarator:


And of course......

Haggis:


The music for the evening is also multicultural, I've scoured the library and come up with various traditional and pop music from all the countries, this includes:

National Anthems,
Crowded House
Split Endz
O-Zone
Wikeda
The Proclaimers

By the time that lot is eaten up, no one has any room for the desert options, so we settle for an Irish Coffee:



Everyone seems to be pretty satisfied, and we arrange to show the Moldovian girl some of Amsterdam during her stay, as the Bulgarian Bride and Obi Wan are off to Sofia on Saturday.

Belgique

It's a late start on Sunday after our Hilarious Saturday night. I play some guitar, cook a curry, watch the eastenders omnibus, and then get a phone call from the Bulgarian bride. She's in the centre meeting some friend's for a drink and they are meeting at 6.30pm on Dam Square:



A quick phone call to The Kiwi tells him to go there after kick boxing instead of home.

The Bride has a colleague staying with her for a week while she carries out a placement. She is from Moldovia, so I can tick off another country in my book of friends. Also present is Obi Wan and a Bulgarian friend from the wedding.

Tonight we are targeting Belgique:



Belgique is a small Belgian beer bar which nestles in the heart of Amsterdam's busy shopping street up a back alley. It is so small that it only has about 8 seats, luckily, the building across the road has scaffolding on it and they have hung hammocks from it. We claim some hammocks and then Obi Wan and I hit the bar.

He takes great delight in acting as waiter for the first roun of Kwak's as the beer comes in a very strange glass:



We swing from the hammock's and enjoy the fine beer. Obi wan is teaching us Dutch. The Kiwi asks:

"Heb jouw een grote slaapkamer?" = "do you have a large bedroom"

The Bride declares "He's leading the witness!". The Kiwi already knows that Obi Wan has a large bedroom, where each corner represents a different planet for lego spaceships to fly to:



Before long, it's time for the Diemenites, to head southwards, and The Kiwi, the Bulgarian and I stay for a few more beers before we head home to eat the curry and hit the hay. Before we hit the hay we have partaken in the following beers:

Amsterdam's own Zatte:


A Chimay blue:


And a St. Bernardus:

Kiwi party

Given that we did the full on Amsterdam Party thang last night, tonight I'm pretty glad that we have a party to go to. Maybe it's the social circles I run around it, or maybe it's the tiny Amsterdam houses, but I don't find myself at many Amsterdam house parties. They tend to be more subdued dinners or social get-togethers. But tonight through a friend of a friend we are off to a Kiwi birthday party round the corner from her flat.

We head off to the off license and get ourselves some beers, then we head back to the flat and spend some time beautifying ourselves while we wait for the arrival for of a kiwi friend. I say beautifying, we really just watched a bottom DVD:



The Kiwi girl stays in the Red Light District, so doesn't often have to use any form of transport to find social life. I'm very surprised she managed to use a tram and head out to the west..

We head the few block to the party on foot. We are greeted by the host's Dutch wife, who doesn't know us, so seems a little skeptical until her husband comes along and knows The Kiwi. Most of the rest of the party is dutch women and we head out onto the balcony to enjoy a cold one before the Kiwi's we know get there.

On the Balcony, we meet the band who are playing in the living room tonight. They consist of a Kiwi, someone from Finland and two Dutch guys, we laugh and joke for a while until we're joined by more Kiwi's. One strange fact about Kiwi's is that because they socailise so much and the country has a population of about 4 Million, they always have mutual friends. It;s quite bizarre, you mention a town, and pretty soon, there's a mutual drinking partner that they know.

The band are ready to start, and we head to the living room for the first time. The band are tuning up, and finally I get to find out what they play. They had been pretty sketchy, but now we see that we have a Dutch Drummer who is playing what appears o be a Box(he later tells me it Peruvian), but I still don't know what it's called. He's joined on the right by a man playing what can only be described as Wah wah Mandolin. You then have the Finnish guy on a double bass and a kiwi singing and playing guitar.

They play lots of covers, and given some of the audience, there's a few crowded house numbers which go down well. Most people are standing around watching, but given my extensive experience of playing to dead audiences, I encourage the kiwi's to start dancing. At first I feel a bit daft, but by the time we are getting acoustic renditions of such hits as Whole Lotta Rosie by AC/DC I'm going for it. despite the lack of involvement form the Dutch half of the room.

They are pretty well behaved and subdued, but by the second set, we are pulling them onto the dancefloor to join us. Eventually, the band finishes and we take the opportunity to leave. I'm sure the non-dancers were quite glad to see us go, but the kiwi birthday boy and the band was glad we came along and livened things up a little, so I don't feel too bad.

I arrive home in the early hours. It was an interesting night. A little different which is good, but I'm glad when my dancing shows come off and i crawl into bed.

Friday night in the other Gollem

After returning from paris, I quickly head home and have a shower, before heading off to meet Marilyn for a few drinks in the Pijp:



The Pijp is a cosmopolitan area of amsterdam full of little bars and cafe's. It is often over-looked by tourists, but is a very popular hang out for bar flys and after work parties of a Friday night.

I've not really seen Marilyn since Scotland, so we have lots to catch up on. She has been busy with, work uni and marathon running, so we blether away for quite a while. The first bar we went to had such bad service that we left some money on the table for our beer and left. Across the road was something that I'd heard of, but never seen.....

A second Gollem:



We decide to head over there for some real beer. Immediatlly on entering the bar, it's clear that there are a few differences between this Gollem and the other Gollem. This gollem is far more airy, and doesn't have the old smokey bar feel of it's sister bar. The menu is the same, but this bar is quieter and lazier. There are a few other belgian beer lovers sipping beers at various little corners of the bar, we order two La Chouffe's from the tap:



I used to consider La Chouffe to be a very special beer, but it's now a standard belgian beer, which I expect anytime belgian beers are offered(Though not always on tap)

A few beers later we are ready for the off. Marilyn to bed and me to sniff the air ready for the next bar.

The Kiwi has got some mates in town, so they are painting the town red. Currently they are in Susies Saloon, which is a bar on the fringes of the Red Light District:



I'm not sure if I've ever been in Susies Saloon. I used to drink in a bar along the road from it a lot in 2002, so I know the area. It's a mixture between tourists and ex-pats, all beer guzzling blokes really. This is a good thing, because the group is a bunch of beer guzzling kiwi's. We have a few beers here, and then head off to Leidseplein by bike. It;s very comical watching some Kiwi's who aren't that used to cycling trying to tackle mac bikes as we make our way accross Amsterdam. We eventually(And surprisingly) reach Leidseplein(Pronounced "Led Zeppelin" by Nine Inch Nina):



It's a nice night, so we have a few beers sitting outside. There are a group of people that the kiwi's had befriended in Susie's so we are quite a large group. These people seem to have itchy feet, and before we get onto our third pint, we are off to visit Rembrandtplein:



We seem to have managed to acheive a pub crawl round every tourist area of Amsterdam. I'm about ready for home. What a day!! Wake up in Paris, then finish the day by a relaxed beer in the Gollem followed by a pub crawl round Amsterdam.....

.....Bring on the weekend.

Paris

After last week's uninspiring trip to Leeds, we have the more inspiring city of Paris this week. Nothing against Leeds, I think it's more to do with the content of the meetings.

I've always loved Paris, and I like the atmosphere no matter what the time of the year. We're popping down for a few meetings, but it's quite a leisurely pace, so we have a little time to explore. We arrive late on the Wednesday and enjoy a few beers in the centre before heading for an early night and enjoying a good sleep before a day of meetings the next day.

The meetings are in the Universite Marie Curie. It is a concrete monstrosity which is just across the seine from the Notre Dame. It is absolutely horrible, even getting into the place, you are reminded of 1980's cheap concrete buildings. It looks like a a communist power station. Possibly a nod to Marie Curie's Polish roots:



we eventually find our roots, and discover that there is a wonderful view. Not just because you can't see the Universite Marie Curie from the Universite Marie Curie, but also as our host tells us, he's been in the same office for years, and never seen Paris in the same light:



These are the views that make me love Paris. After hours and hours of meetings, our host suggests that before we head off to the other end of Paris for a meeting, that we should get some lunch and enjoy the weather by the Seine. we then have a meeting sitting on the Seine:



This really is the life. we have canals in Amsterdam, yet we never use them. I can't think of a better location for a meeting while we tuck into Cambenbert Baguettes.

For the Afternoon, we are heading to Place De Italie for a meeting in a different building. We are on the 9th floor in some very Plush offices, so we get a different view of Paris from the lift:





After the meeting, we have a few beers on Place de Italie, and once he's headed off, we get in a taxi to 17 Rue Beautreillis. This is where Jim Morrison died. I'm not there purely to listen to Crystal Ship and marvel at the enigma that was The Doors. I also know from a trip to Paris in 1999 that there is a damn good restaurant on this street. My boss(Not a doors fan), is a little dubious, but after a beer across from Jim's Balcony, we head for the restaurant:



Before long we are tucking into Carpaccio de boeff, Cote de boeff and fine french wine. My boss is now impressed enough for him to believe that the trip was based on more than just teenage rock idolisation. Suitably refreshed, we head off back to the Hotel.

Our quick trip to Paris is over and all we have is the leisurely trip home courtesy of Thalys.

Ikea & Bittezoet

Today, I'm up early again to head off to Diemen to help as a lifter at Ikea:



I'm taking The Kiwi with me, as he works in the same Multinational as The Bride and they've never met. He can also help with lifting.

It's the usual leisurly ride through the watergraafsmeer. The weather is starting to turn to Autumn, but it's still pleasant enough to go a bike run.

When we arrive, The Bride has another friend over to see the DVD of her wedding. It;s good to watch and rememebr the good times which seem so long ago in Bulgaria. I cringe at the moments where I have to watch myself dancing, but generally, it's a really professionally shot and put together DVD - theres even a very tastful shot of my kilt rising up in slow motion during dancing where you can see the bottom of my arse cheeks. The memories flood back, and the video evidence lets me fill in the wholes in my memory, such as the music which caused the mass movement towards clothed dancing in the pool(Paradise City by G N' R)

Eventually Obi wan arrives from a friends. He's very shy and quiet around the Kiwi at first, but soon enough he opens up. mainly because The Kiwi makes a huge mistake. While marvelling over Obi wan's lego creation of the Millenium Falcon, he casually mentions that he still has the original star wars toys back at home somewhere. Obi Wan demands that he goes to get them.

K: "They're in New Zealand, Bro"

OW: "Well go and get them"

K: "They're in Nieuwe Zeeland"(Trying the Dutch)

Me: "Do you know where New Zealand is?"

OW "Beetje Zuid??"(A little south??)

Me:" A lot south. You got a map??"
(We point out New Zeland)

Me: "Now how far away is Bulgaria"

OW: "Two Hours"
(This turns out to be the width of two Obi Wan fingers)
OW: "twee, vier, ses...." (He counts the number of fingers to New Zealand)

OW (Incredulous) "26 hours???"

And thus The Kiwi is welcomed into to the family of adults who wish they were still Star Wars loving kids. We have a quick light sabre fight and head down the stairs to head off to Ikea.

We get two metros to the Ikea, and do the tour. Ikea is great fun for some reason, especially with a kid. He' redecorating his room, so he has measuring tapes and a shopping list. After the 3 hours r however long ti take s to dow the circuit, we don't actually have any of the big furniture items which we came to carry, but we have enough bags of stuff, that we were required anyway, so after a qucik hotdog after going through the checkout it's tiime to head along to the metro and make our wway back to the centre.

Once home, I relax for a while, while The Kiwi heads off to meet some mates. I eventually join them. They are drinking in a bar in teh Jordaan. It's an area I don't know too well, but it;s a quite a pleasant bar. We watch the Holland game, which Gaurantee's England's entry to the world cup.(Scotland got beaten by Belarus)

After several Duvels it's off to club called Bitterzoet:



I've never been one for clubs, and one of my favourite things abotu Amsterdam is that the pubs open a lot longer than 11pm, so you don't have to rely on clubs for your alcohol needs of a weekend. This club was no different. It didn't regenerate some long lost love of clubs. It just reminded me of Magenta-clad Scottish slappers dancing to bad rave hits. I head home around 4am, after one of the longest Saturday nights in memory.

Leeds

I am in Leeds for a few days for work. I’ve been before. It’s a nice enough city, and it’s a little weird being back in the UK for work rather than for family. I’m looking forward to some good unhealthy English food and drinking pints again.(Like I can’t find a bar that sends pints in Amsterdam.



Leeds is quite strange it’s up north enough to have a good bit of yorkshire character, and it’s working class roots give it a quite a Glaswegain feel. There’s a kind of mix of buildings, which don’t fit together, all different styles which sprawl around the centre.

The meetings I’m in take up almost the whole day, so we find ourselves too tired to enjoy Leeds. This seemed to happen last time as well. We have to make do with a bag of chips:



This is even a stretch. We seem to be unable to find a good chip shop! What has happened to British food!!! There is one good restaurant which we found in Leeds last tiem called “Room”:



We don’t have the energy to go here though. We feel that we are too tired to enjoy it’s good food, stylish atmosphere and well chosen chilled music. Instead we make do with further pints of Carling.

Eventually after doing nothing more than sitting in boring meetings, drinking beer, eating chips and sleeping – it’s time for the off. We have a quick trip round Waterstones and some good British shopping, but unfortunately we are even too tired to enjoy that. My one lasting memory, is that before we got in a Taxi for the airport, I went for a paper, and returned with Irn Bru and a daily record:





Quality!!!

Swimming in Mirandabad

After a reasonably quiet Firday night, I get a phone call early in the morning. I had promised to take Obi Wan and his friend swimming, so it's a quick bowl of porridge and hit of espresso and then a 45 minute bike ride to Diemen.



It's about 9.30 when I leave, so there is still that morning chill in the air which smells so fresh. A cycle is such a great way to wake up in the morning. It's not particlarly difficult, but it's continuous enough that it gets the heart pumping.

As I get to the last leg, his mum phones me to tell me that Diemen swimming pool is only open for lessons. I am going to stop off for coffee before heading nearly back into the centre to Mirandabad, another swimming pool.

We have coffee and play Lego Star wars, until it's time to head off on the bikes.



FInally a star wars game which is mindless enough, that you don't feel liek a geek when you are playing it, but still has the fun and adventure. It could be on my Christmas list.

We are cycling along the canal's which lead from Diemen to Amsterdam. I think this is the Watergraafsmeer, but I'm never sure. It's pretty picturesque, if a little industrial, and cycling along with two kids, makes me glad I got the phone call, cos otherwise, I wouldn't be out my bed yet, and I wouldn't have stared the day by cycling for 90 minutes before going for a swim.





We get to the swimming pool and are quickly in the water. I head off to the big pool for a quick 20 lengths. It's been a while, I'm tired out pretty quickly. The Bride and the kids have headed to the fun pool which has wave machines, slides, rope bridges and flumes, It's a great place for kids of all ages, and reminds you what it was like when you were that age. We muck around for a while, and then head for the flume.

I'm pretty disappointed. It's far less exciting that it was when I was 7 or whatever.

After a while, I say I'm heading for the big pool for some more swimming. They are always curious of mystery and think they are missing something. I tell them that it's for swimming only, and that they might not be allowed in. I am promptly reminded that they have Zwem Diploma C. This appears to qualify them for swimming upwards on the Niagra Falls.

The life guard gives us a bit of a strange look when these two kids come marching excitedly down the stairs to what is just a 25 metre pool with people doing lengths in. The kids are straight in the deep end and swimming no problem down to the other end. They don't put their heads in the water, but generally, I'm pretty impressed by their performance. We do probably 10-15 lengths, and then head back to the fun pool.

Now I'm completely knackered. It's approaching 4pm and I've been exercising since about 9.30. I'm worried that my body might go into shock.

Luckily the pool is closing, so I don't need to tell the kids that I can't keep up with them. We have a quick jacuzzi and then head into the changing rooms - Saturday's adventure over.

Once out of the swimming pool, it's a quick can of Cola Light and a phone call to find out what the evening plans are. I leave the kids with The Bride and head back to home for a quick change of clothes.

I meet up with The Kiwi and Dagenham Dave on Dam Square. They have been out on the razz the previous evening, so just want some food and a quiet night. We have chinese, and then head for a few in the Gollem before calling it a night.