Paris: The city of fine food

As a capital city Paris has got to be amongst the best in the World. It’s small enough to walk from one side to another in a day; relatively safe; great museums; great culture and art; some of the best food and drink in the World; and shopping to die for.

I know it’s a cliché – but the French really know there food. Over the past 35 years I’ve been lucky to visit some amazing eateries in Paris. None of them expensive – I was a school kid when I first went, a student later and since then almost always on a budget – also I really believe in value for money, or more bang for my buck as my American girlfriend says.

Here are just a snapshot of my favourite places in Paris:

Angelina.
226 Rue de Rivoli, Paris, 75001 (+33 1 42 60 82 00)



Opposite The Louvre, not far from WH Smith and Place Vendomes. This is an amazing place for afternoon tea, with wonderful cakes and pastries. But the must have here is the hot chocolate – not your Cadbury’s powered stuff, but really melted chocolate with a jug of whipped cream plus a decanter of water because it is so rich! It is pure indulgence, but if you can not indulge yourself in Paris, where can you?



Chartier.
7, rue Faubourg-Montmartre, Paris (+33 1 47 70 86 29)
http://www.restaurant-chartier.com/


Found this place in 1981 and have visited everytime I’ve been to Paris since. Expect to have a bit of a wait to get in later in the evening, but if you go early you can get in almost immediately.

A wonderful turn of the century (20th) restaurant with communal dining tables. It’s real pot luck who you end up sitting next to, but it’s real fun and an icebreaker. The place is huge with high ceilings and crystal chandeliers. The menu is changed daily – and is printed on A3 sheets which can easily be smuggled out as a souvenir!

When you have finished your meal the waiter will due ‘L’addition’ on the table cloth in front of you!

Crémerie-Restaurant Polidor.
41 rue Monsieur-le-Prince 75006 (+33 1 43 26 95 34)

A restaurant similar to Chartier, but a lot smaller and based in the Luxembourg area on the Left Bank. Again communal dining, with one long table down the centre. The food is very traditional French country cuisine and the queue to get in can be very long – but well worth it.

The ‘facilities’ are sometime to experience also: Traditional hole in the ground type with a half stable door – suggest you go before or after your visit!


L'As du Fallafel
34 Rue des Rosiers, Marais

This is a must do stop when exploring the beautiful old Marais area of the city. The best Falafel in Western Europe to my mind and a great place to people watch on a Sunday afternoon. It is frequented by everyone; from the likes of me to Lenny Kravitz. If you sit inside the walls are festooned with memorabilia of it’s famous clientele.

Word of warning though: As this is in the heart of the Jewish area it is closed on Friday evenings/Saturdays. If visiting the area at this time the next place is a gem as we found out when stumbling upon it a couple of years ago:

Chez Marianne
2 rue des Hospitalières St-Gervais (+33) 1 42 72 18 86

An blindingly good Middle Eastern eatery just off the Marais. Eccentric, loud, lively but the food was to die for and cheap. This has rapidly become my favourite place to eat in Paris, which to be honest takes some doing. But it really hits the spot.

To be consumed… but only when drunk!

What is it about having a few beers that leads to eating some gross fast food late at night? I’m sure that there is a conspiracy between the brewers and the fast food joints!

As I get older I am trying to eat healthily, drink less and exercise more. A regime started a couple of years ago after a bit a health scare.

Most evening meals consist of loads of fresh veggies, brown rice, baked potatoes, very little in the way of red meat with more tofu, TVP and lentils on the menu. This is washed down with sparkling water, or the occasional glass of red wine or a beer.

On top of this I have started walking the 2 miles to work every day – well apart from when it’s raining cats and dogs, like today.

Result: 30lb lose in weight over the past 18months, and 4 inches off my waistline. I’m not quite svelte like, but getting there!

But Saturday evenings everything seems to go pear shaped (or should that be kebab shaped!)

This is the evening when I let what little hair I have down. A day of doing the house chores means that I have ‘earned’ a night out with the gang – usually just the four of us partaking in some teatime refreshment at the café bar we are regulars at.

Generally we will meet at 6pm for a couple of hours, than wend our merry ways home before the throngs of youngsters descend on Worcester city centre like a pack of hyenas.

I say ‘generally’ because occasionally the plan goes slightly astray. On those evenings I decide that I will walk the mile or so home, rather than get a taxi. Bad move!!

Within 200 yards of leaving the pub you can guarantee that I bump into old friends I haven’t seen for a while and join them for a drink – which invariably leads to 3!

Making my excuses after about an hour, I start the remainder of the walk home, only to get half way before the weight of several pints starts to become worrying. Rather than find an alley – which I would have done as a teen – I think: Pub=Toilet! And another pint. And bumping into more old friends!

Finally I leave, but only when they pour me out of the door at past midnight. And with that the smell of the fast food emporia start to work their evil magic! Past Maccies; past BK; past Subway; even past the wonderful aromas emanating from the long line of Curry houses. I’m nearly home, dodging the dodgy food all the way.

But hold on! There is a really good kebab shop at the end of my street. Only 50 yards from home and the damage to my liver is compounded with the prospect of Salmonella Doner Kebab! There is no way in a million years that a sober person would eat such a monstrosity and admit to enjoying it. But after a skin full of beer we will eat anything!

Night Swimming…

Brian Adams may have thought the Summer of ’69 was good, but for me 1979 was by far and away the best ever.

18 years of age, single, singer in a band, good apprenticeship in printing with good wages, a bunch of really good friends and living in the small market town of Evesham on the banks of Shakespeare’s Avon.

It really was a summer of sex, ‘n’ drugs, ‘n’ rock ‘n’ roll – although in my case the only drug has been alcohol. Weather was not as hot as ’76, but good none the same, with parties nearly every night at someone’s house or other – these were the pre-Barbeque days in the UK, you had to be really posh to have one of those!

The night in question revolves around someone’s 18th birthday party which was held at the Hampton Ferry Café – now a really nice restaurant, but then pretty seedy, and smelling of all things angling (maggots, fish, river water etc).

Disco thumping out great tunes, cheap beer – probably Whitbread Trophy – wonderful weather, but with a chance of a shower later. I spent quite a bit of the evening chatting to girl from Lloyds bank who I had fancied for years. Things were looking good and as the evening progressed we sat outside to watch the sun go down with a bunch of our friends.

Back in those days pubs closed at 10.30pm during the week and 11.00pm on Fridays and Saturdays. So ‘last orders’ time arrived and it is time to make our ways home. Feeling a bit courageous I asked if I could walk Bank Girl home to her prestigious part of town. To my amazement she agreed.

She popped back into the café to use the conveniences and collect her unneeded umbrella. While waiting I suddenly got a call of nature and trundled over to the river bank, and out of view to crowds there started to relieve my bladder – well it would have ended up in the river anyway!

Next thing I know I’m looking up through murky river water and feeling decidedly wet! In those days I was significantly slimmer than now. However the bank had given way, leaving me to plummet the 10 feet or so into the Avon.

Scrambling up the bank made me even more like the Monster from the Black Lagoon and I surfaced to cheers and laughter from my so-called friends.

Bank Girl had rejoined the party and was looking decided anxious about my appearance. Needless to say I was no longer invited to walk her home. The thought of me in my sodden, mud caked clothes too much for her to bear.

I squelched off home, to the opposite end of the town from Bank Girl’s abode, stopping off briefly to get a Chinese takeout, paid for with dripping wet money!

Needless to say I never did get to date Bank Girl!!

No sex please, we’re British…

Seriously you couldn’t make this up.

About 10 years I was living in the first house I had ever bought in my own right and was living on my own. Prior to that it was either the marital abode or my parents house.

For those of you not familiar with housing in UK, lets just say that we tend to live in smaller places in very close proximity to our neighbours. In this case a lovely Victorian 2up, 2down terrace, which was more than adequate for my needs, and those of my 3 kids when they visited for weekends and holidays.

Either side of me I had some really nice neighbours. To my left a couple about the same age as me with kids who were roughly same age as mine. To my right a newly retired couple, say middle sixties, with a family that had flown the nest.

My love life at this time was pretty much no existent. I had been divorced for a couple of years. My ‘rebound’ girlfriend had scuttled off to Australia to be re-united with her Ex – I seem to have that effect on women. My first love ended up in Kuwait, my rebound ended up in Oz. You can see why I’m never going to date a NASA employee!

To the night in question. It was a cold winters Monday in January. I went to bed as normal to read my book at about 10pm – a really good Terry Pratchett novel. About 15 minutes into drifting into The Discworld I started to here strange sounds.

I didn’t take much notice at first, but then to my horror I realised that my pensioner neighbours were ‘at it’. And not quietly! Gross. Unbeknown to me, my headboard was right next to the wall that joined their bedroom. And for the first time since moving to the house I could here noise from their side.

This was real insult to injury time. Me as good as celibate and my OAP neighbours at it like rabbits.

As you can imagine I could not stand the humiliation, so I headed downstairs and made my self a nice mug of cocoa, returning to bed about half an hour later when I felt it would be safe.

I’ve got nothing about people of consenting age having some recreation fun, especially pensioners – well it gives us all hope! However with all the spare time they had, couldn’t they have pursued their interests during the day whilst I was at work?

Two things happened as a result of these nocturnal rumblings:

1. I moved my bed to the other side of the room where it was more peaceful.

2. I couldn’t talk to the couple again without having a wry smile on my face!

All Twittered out...

I’ve got to admit that I’ve become a bit of a Twitter addict!

I've even downloaded TweetDeck- sad or what?

Not sure that there is TA – as in Twitter’s Anonymous rather than the Territorial Army – but if there is, sign me up.

What started off by watching Richard Quest on CNN saying that he was watching his Tweets, and me then getting involved has escalated.

Jonathan Ross, Stephen Fry- who the whole world follows!, Suzi Perry, Chris Moyles, Fern Cotton, Jason Bradbury, Philip Schofield –all fun to follow etc.

But surely this is really like Cyber-stalking!

However if you are a Cyberstalker, I can be found at:

My Twitter address: @clivemessage

Have fun and don’t do anything silly.

x

I’ve got the music in me!

Got to imagine: Real English pub – Bank Holiday Friday – Evening – Everyone very merry because they have been there since lunchtime.

Scene set.

Me: Sober after working all day. Showered. Shaved. Teeth perfectly cleaned. Putty in hair. Aftershave on. (For what reasons I have no idea – just going to Swan in Barbourne, Worcester – not The Ivy!)

Into pub: Pint of cider – not my usual drink I confess, but thirsty. Not many in. No chat. So it’s got to be music!

So: Move past the Pool table, trying not to disturb a cue. Then to the Mecca of music. To be honest I haven’t touched a Jukebox since I requested Echo Beach by Martha and the Muffins back in 1979.

Things have changed!

1.You no longer see the discs in a rack before selection.

2. You no longer see said discs being moved from their rack to playing position.

3. If you jump up and down by the devise, nothing skips!

However, everything now is ‘Touchscreen’! What’s that all about?

Before: just push two buttons, ie. A2. 52 choices – well 26 because the ‘B’ sides were pretty ropey. Now the machine has every track available in MP3 format since 1952!

Decisions. Decisions.

Right. After finally mastering the touchscreen, I was in for some seriously playing around. Being a bit of a music buff I set a challenge to my fellow drinking buddies: Who is this?

Classic jukebox confusion playlist:

Whole Of The Moon - Waterboys
Destiny – Zero7
Take Five- Dave Brubeck
This Old Heart Of Mine – Isley Brothers

Talk about a classic moment – they hadn’t got a clue! Much the same as me trying to used this new fangled technology!

It's just not Cricket!

Sorry but I just don’t get American sports!

Not saying the Yanks are not serious about sports- they are. Big style. But not like the rest of the world.

Take baseball. Great game. Basically rounders played by grown men and is the US national sport. I went to see the Mariners play the Tigers last summer with my future step son-in-law, Colin, and loved it. I saw Iciro in the field just in front of me and was amazed by his speed when in the outfield.

The game went into 13 innings! The attendants were bringing out blankets to try and keep us warm while the sun went down! Sadly the Tigers won, but it was a great experience none the less, mostly fuelled by the garlic fries that would have made my French friends gasp!

The best part of the game for me - to be honest - was a foul ball just missing me and hitting the old woman sat behind me in the nose. Hilarious: blood everywhere!

What really gets me about baseball though is the World Series. How can it be a ‘world’ tournament when only 2 countries have teams in it?

Compare that to cricket. To be honest a traditional English game that we exported to the Empire. At least the cricket World Cup is more global in nature. Obviously there is England and the ex-Empire counties, i.e India, Pakistan, South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, the Caribbean (West Indies), Canada etc, but also nations such as USA and Holland – I think you get my point!

However the crunch for me is soccer, as you guys call it – football to every other country in the world! Correctly you use your feet to kick the ball rather than use your hands, which you call NFL (Gridiron), and we call rugby – but without the shoulder pads. Seriously Dallas finished on TV back in the 1980’s!!!

Back in July 2006 I arranged to meet my girlfriend in New York and then spent a few lovely days on Long Island.

OK, maybe I timed the trip wrong as the Soccer World Cup Final was to be played during our stay. But it was her birthday and I wasn’t going to miss that – unless I wanted to be her ex!

Fortunately the final was on a Sunday and the time difference meant that final was going to be played in the afternoon East Coast time. This meant I could watch the game if could arrange: A bar that the game on and arrange for girly to go to the wineries with her friend, Laura.

So, J&Rs Bar not far from our base in Islip. Lunch of burgers and beers. Soccer on the large screen . Connie and Laura drinking Long Island dry = Result!.

I Had a great time, apart from my ancestral home nation, France, losing to Italy. The staff were nearly all Europeon and ensured that the game was on the massive screen for their own enjoyment as much as anything. However the biggest losers apart from France were the guys in the bar at same time as me. There may have been an important baseball game on one of the smaller screens they should have been watching, but everyone was glued to ESPN. Guess what the sport was? HOTDOG EATING!!!!!

Come on, if Americans want to be taken seriously about sport, at least show real sports on TV, not stuff that should be on either Freak TV or the Food Network.

Circle of Life

About 2 months ago I treated myself to a DVD recorder. My Sky+ was almost at bursting point with stuff I really wanted to keep, and more importantly stuff I wanted to burn onto to DVD so I can watch some 'proper' TV when I relocate to the States sometime in the future.

I had almost everything that Andrew Marr and Simon Schama had done on the BBC, plus other great documentaries, dramas, Life on Mars etc, etc - about 35 hours worth in total.

So over the next few weeks I gave myself the target of recording 2 hours a day on a DVD and releasing much needed space on my indispensable friend - Sky+. Such was my enthusiasm that I got back to 90% spare capacity - brilliant!

Being the inquisitive person I am, I thought: 'Hold on if this recorder has a scart socket, surely I link up my old VCR!'

Step ladder out. Up into the loft. After much rummaging around I find my old trusty Amstrad video recorder that has been gathering dust for the past 5 years. Back into the lounge, plug it in and to my surprise it worked!

Remembering that I had at least 10 hours of video tape from when the kids were growing up in the early 90's, I then undertook the mammoth task of tracking down the boxes they were in. Bearing in mind I had moved house 3 times, got divorced and generally been forgetful over that time.

Two weekends later - sorted! And I duly started the business of copying the memories onto DVD. Although some of the tape quality had deteriorated, some some parts loosing its colour, I was genuinely delighted that the content had survived.

Watching the home movies brought back really happy memories, but also made me realise just how much time had flown. The first scene I ever taped was off my eldest daughter playing with a talking doll which she had for Christmas 1989, the week before we bought the camcorder - she was 4.

Where this got really spooky was the Tuesday after copying said video scene. As usual I picked her up from her late shift at the beauty salon she works at and told her about the project I was undertaking. She was excited about seeing the scenes from her, and the family, all those years ago. Then she told me that she and her partner had found out that day that she was pregnant!

Those 5 minutes of video tape 19 years earlier now have an even more special meaning as she prepares to be a mother for herself.

I'm really starting to get the Law of Attraction now. It may have just been coincidence on this occasion, but there have been so many other manifestations over the past year, that I am starting to alter the way I think in order to get the things I want. The best Secret I have ever been told!!!

Hair today...

Just been to get my hair cut.

Nothing earth shattering in that statement, until you have a quick glance at my profile picture.

Yes I’ve had a shaven cranium for the past 12 years. So the only hair care products I have needed were a Gillette Fusion and shaving gel, for my weekly shearing in the shower – usually Saturday afternoon while listening to Sport on Radio 5 Live.

But why grow it back again? If you cast your mind back to November last year, you might remember it being minus 10 degrees – really brain freezing weather. Hence I ‘chickened out’ of shaving for a week, which led to two and before you know it, it was too long to use a razor on it.

Four months later and it was starting to get slightly unkempt, and with several important work meetings this week, something had to be done. So on the way home from work popped into a city centre barber shop offering cheap (£7) cuts. Nice place, really nice girls and got to say not a bad job – the Grisley Adams look tamed!

The next problem is working out which shampoo to get. I’ve been using the hair and body shower gel my mother kindly gave my in a cheap set for Christmas.

So off to the shops I trudged. Couldn’t believe my eyes when I encountered the shampoo aisle at Tesco, the one I had avoided for the past 12 years – well I had no need to venture there. There must have been 200 different makes, styles and fragrances. All I want to do is wash and condition my hair, but the offerings are more like a who’s who of oriental herbs and spices. I am sure that my local Indian supermarket has less lines from which I can make all manner of wonderful asian recipes!

I stuck to the Wash and Go (well the top of my hair is almost all gone anyway), but still want to know what on earth Jojoba is?

Sleep, per chance to...sleep

What is it about the weekends?

During the week my nightly routine is fairly consistent: Bed at about 10, read for about an hour, sleep like a log till 6.27 when woken by Chris Moyles on the clock radio. Then the struggle to get out of my pit to embrace a new day.

Seven and half blissful hours, uninterrupted, but the need for more sleep not far from my thoughts.

Come the weekend a totally different matter! OK I don't go to bed too late, maybe skip the reading, but generally asleep before midnight, with the prospect of a nice lazy lie-in the following morning.

Guess what? 4.25am wide awake! What starts off as little trip to relieve a beer filled bladder, ends up with a brain in overdrive trying to sort out the meaning of the universe.

Why can't we have a switch that allows us to turn off all thoughts for the duration of sleep? Oh , forgot, we do. Those few beers to relax at the end of a hard week help us fall into an alcohol induced slumber, but are at the route of the 4.25am awakening!

Better stick with cocoa in future - and make sure it's taken at about 7pm make sure no early mental philosophical debates.

Timbers for the MLS

Great news coming out of Portland, OR today. The Portland Timbers soccer team are going to be admitted to the MLS in 2011. Tonight the Timbers take on MLS side New York Red Bulls in a friendly game - should be some celebration at PGE Park - just wish I was there to witness it.

With Seattle making their league debut this week and Vancouver, BC also earning a 2011 spot, the expectations of Pacific NorthWest 'derbies' is something to look forward to.

I was lucky enough to visit PGE Park in Portland last July to watch the Timbers take on Puerto Rico. What an atmosphere - 12,500 on a balmy Thursday evening to watch a game that was of an acceptable level.

MLS may not be to the standard of the English, Spanish or Italian leagues, but it's enjoyable.

Looking forward to getting my season ticket and seeing some good games - hopefully Beckham hasn't completely deserted the American game by then!

Act FAST - Improving your stroke??!!

Thought the following was hilarious in
yesterday's Worcester News.

Goa Confidential

Luckily I've been able to go on vacation to Goa numerous times over the past 10 years. Love the place.
Below is travel guide I wrote for a friend of mine who was going last year. Hopefully it may give others some insight to this lovely corner of India.

GOA - TOP TIPS!!

Airport

When you get off plane – walk fast to the terminal. It can take up to 2 hours to clear immigration, so get as far up the queue as you can!

Don’t change any money at the airport – rate is not very good. There are plenty of places to change money (or use ATM) in Calangute.

Have a pound coin handy – your cases will be ‘grabbed’ by a porter to take to the coach/taxi as soon as you get through baggage claim. They expect a £1 tip!

North Goa

The main tourist areas are to found along the stretch from Sinquerim (where the shipwreck is) up to Baga. Candolim and Calangute in between.

Sinquerim is pricey and quiet– Taj Heritage Resort here plus high end 4/5 star hotel – mostly all inclusive. There is a small fort that goes out into the sea and has great views along the beach.

Candolim is busier, but not OTT. Lots of really good restaurants etc here. The beach shacks are also very good.

Calangute is very busy – but dead compared to Blackpool! Very popular with Indian tourists. The weekends can get very busy with out of staters coming for stag parties etc. I tend to keep clean of the beach on a Saturday/Sunday, as it can be too busy.

Baga is loud, brash and for the young crowd. Lots of ex-pat bars, always loads going on. The only nightclub of note along the coast is Tito’s and it’s outside bar Mambo’s – worth a visit at least once.

Further along the coast are Anjuna (hippy market etc), Vagator (rave parties – used a lot by Israelis), Morjim and Arambol (both beautiful and well worth a visit).

Calangute

Depending where you are staying you will be either right at the heart of the action (Mira, Silla Goa, Park Avenue hotels) or out in the sticks (Village Royale) Even if you are in the centre of Calangute the nights won’t be too noisy – everything calms down by 11pm usually – apart from the hotel bars.

The main focal point of the village is the roundabout. This is half way between the market/bus stop area and the beach. To your right is the Tibetan jewellery market with the ‘football’pitch behind it. The road to the right takes you to Baga.

Ahead is the road down to the beach. There is a statue just before the steps on to the beach.

The road to the left goes into the residential area, but has a few shops, bars, hotels and restaurants eetc.

Back towards the market there are lots of restaurants, shops etc, a supermarket (Menzies), an ATM etc. This is the ‘high street’.

Eating out

Veggie: The Plantain Leaf on the ‘high street’ is brilliant. A veg thalli of 8 portions, plus rice and puri will cost about 60Rs – (75p) and you won’t be able to eat it all. Yatri on the steps by the beach – up stairs above some shops. Masalla Dosa is good here – about 20Rs each.

Steaks etc: After 7 in Candolim is very good, but pricey. Continental cuisine which is good sometimes – you can’t eat curry every meal! Hot Plate in Baga is also very good and cheap.

Tibetan: The best place is The Tibetan Kitchen on the left hand side opposite the football pitch. Try to get a table away from the toilets though!

Breakfast: Infantria on the left hand side on the Baga road. Fresh breads, real coffee, fresh juices (inc watermelon). Jon Jenesis (I think that the name!) is a café in the left just before you get to the steps – good coffee and they sell English language Goan newspapers.

Fish: Available everywhere. The beach shacks are usually good. My mate Louie is a fisherman and spends his leisure hours at Dee Joy’s – usually the first shack to the right when you on the beach – and supplies them with most of their fish. Also a great place to watch the sunset with a Bloody Mary (quad vodka and FRESH tomato juice!)

Other stuff: Viva Goa on the left hand side on the main Calangute/Candolim road is a bit like a café, but sells the best biriany I have ever had, and cost less than a £1.
The Midas Touch is good (and air conditioned), sells a wide range of stuff – steaks, Indian, Chinese etc. Usually live entertainment, if you can get the night with the local dancing is best, otherwise you might be stuck with karoke!
Verundavan’s on the right hand side on the road down to the beach is excellent, as is Casandra’s- almost next door. Capricorn across the road is also supposed to be good, but not tried it yet.

Bars

Hundreds of them! 2 of note are:

O’Yes Bar. On the left hand road from the roundabout – about 20 yards on the right. In the garden they have dug out seating areas and are covered with canopies. Do Hooka Pipes here, if your into that sort of thing. Owner is a nice guy, who used to have a Scottish girlfriend. Bar open all year round – popular with backpackers.

Molly Malone’s. Irish pub, but has draught Kingfisher! (about the only place I have ever seen draught beer in India. On the same lane as Yes bar, about 200yds further on the left.

Days out

Anjuna market. Wednesday. World famous. Crowded and fun. Very rare to get any bargains to be honest. Worth having a look in a fixed price shop like Satagura (opp. The football pitch) to get an ideal of what things should cost.

Mapusa (pronounced map-sa). A real Indian market. Great for getting spices, unusual gifts etc. You can get their on the bus from Calangute, or a 15 minute taxi ride. Don’t go on a Friday – all the Anjuna crowd take over. For a break there is a place called The Pub on the road on the left of the market (if you look at it from the bus station), you can sit up there and watch all bustle.
Mapusa also has a good night food market. I’ve only been on a Saturday, but believe its on most nights.

Ingo’s Night Bazaar. Saturday night – market – live music – great food. Based the other side of the river between Siolim and Morjim. Great fun.

Morjim. One of my favourite beaches. Quiet, great shacks (I usually go to Planet Hollywood!). If there is a full moon when you are there, see if you can stay over and help the turtle hatchlings into the sea!

Arambol. Still a hippy hang out, deserted beach. Lie on a sun lounger and watch the dolphins jumping near the rocks at the end of beach! You can also hire a beachside tree house for a night. I believe this is the beach used at the start of The Bourne Supremacy.

Waterfalls/Hindu temples/Spice Plantation/Old Goa. Full day, early start.
You’ll need to get a taxi for the day – and start out at about 7.30. It’s a 2 hour drive to the village where you transfer to a 4 wheel Jeep, then about another hour into the jungle. The waterfalls are another 15/20 minute walk, but well worth it. 2nd highest in India, water is freezing but worth a dip, take some bananas to feed the monkeys etc.
On the way back stop off at one of the Spice Plantations for a tour. It’ll cost about £4 each and includes a buffet lunch. Takes about ½ hours.
The get your driver to take you to a couple of Hindu Temples around Ponda, before heading for Old Goa and it’s Portugese architure and stunning churches.
This will possibly be the most expensive day, but should be less than £30 each!

Agonda/Palolim. Combine either of these two beaches with on overnight stay in a tree house. Both are stunning and picture postcard. Agonda is the quiter of the two.

Panjim. The capital is very European looking – understandably!. Great walking city, with lots of great buildings, a lovely park by the Mondovi (Campinal) where the film festival is based. The huge market is also worth a look at. There’s a great restaurant, The Quarterdeck, on the riverfront. Great place to watch eagles fishing.

The Sunset Cruise is a most – about £2 each – leaves the jetty at 6pm each night and lasts about an hour and a half. Try and get there early so you can get on to the one which has Indian entertainment, the other has ballroom dancing! You can bet you will be the only white people on the boat, but it is hilarious – also beer and food for sale!

After go the Delhi Darbar. The nearest you’ll find to an English Indian Restaurant. Food is excellent, air conditioned, expensive by Goan standards (about £6 per head!!) and a guy in full Maharajah’s costume greets you. Was in there 2 years ago and it was full of Bollywood stars, and ‘Tinhead’ of Brookside!

Above: The Delhi Darbar, April 2006, with Karen, Chris, Tony (Shrek) and my lad Ashley. We were in Goa for the Cricket

If you get a bike a good ride is to see the Prison at Fort Aguada, then up the hill to the fort itself. About 15 minutes ride from Calangute.

Coco Beach is ok. It’s on the Mondovi, fairly quiet. You can help the fishermen drag their catch in. Boat trips will also take you out to see Crocs, dolphins, the prison etc. The setting in good, and you have to travel along some very rural lanes to get there.

Wheels falling off?

Well Villa lost to Spurs as I expected.
Over the past 4 weeks the wheels are falling off:
- Dumped out the F.A. Cup
- Heartbreak for the kids in Moscow meant UEFA Cup is out of the window
- Dropping points in the league allowing Arsenal to leapfrog us into the last automatic Champions League spot.
Lets hope that Everton don't have a bit of a spurt especially considering our next games are against Liverpool and Man Utd!

All hail to the ale!

One thing that has surprised me more than anything in the Pacific North West is the abundance of excellent ales. Coming from a land where drinking is now classed as an Olympic sport, and a city which has recently been named the ‘Binge Drinking Capital of The Midlands’, I feel right at home.

The real revelation has been the quality of what is on offer. I’m not sure if it’s the abundant rain fall, the excellent quality of the ingredients used or the lack of chemicals, but I can say hand on heart that I have not found a bad pint yet.

Back in Blighty the only experience of American beers we normally have is Bud, Miller and Coors – bland lagers that go hand in hand with our weak imitations of European brands such as Carlsberg and Heineken. Some of the larger supermarkets stock Sierra Nevada, Anchor Steam and Sam Adams but at over $4 for a small bottle it’s fair to say that they are not the beers of choose for a night in watching the Benny Hill Show!

My first induction to real American beer was when my better half took me to The Powerhouse Pub in Edgefield. The flight of McMenamins' samples is something I had never experienced before. Six wonderful brews on a tray with an explanatory sheet about each one - I was like a kid in a sweet shop. Dead excited and not knowing which one to try first! Needless to say that lunchtime will always be ingrained in my heart, and a memory I will take to the grave.

The numerous micro-breweries in Oregon and Washington is also something that is great to see. I remember them cropping up in the UK back in the 80’s and 90’s, but sadly few remain in the area I am from. From the small industrial breweries like Red Hook near Seattle, to the craft micros all over the place, it seems as if the revolution is here stay.

Many differences are evident between the UK and Oregon beer mentality.

Firstly is the measure. A pint is 20 fluid ounces in the UK and only 16 here – I get 20% less for my money! Glasses are the same with the exception that it is illegal to sell alcohol in anything which is not etched with a crown and code indicating that it conforms to Official UK Weights and Measures. Having said that I’ll drink out of a bucket if the content is good!

Secondly is the role of the pub. If you visit any village in England you will find 4 common things: The Church, The Village Green, The Cricket Pitch and The Pub (or 5). Life tends to revolve around these institutions and all, including the pub, are family orientated. The two main soap operas, Coronation Street and Eastenders, include pubs, The Rovers Return and The Queen Victoria respectively, as the focal point where the characters interact. Much the same as in real life. Here the role of the pub/bar is very different, and something I am still trying to get to grips with.

Thirdly is age. 21 here. 18 in the UK. I’m not saying which is right or wrong, but if you’re old enough to vote on alcohol related issues, you should be old enough to drink.

Lastly, and possibly more important is cost. Although the size of pint is smaller here, the usual cost of around $3 a pint compares favourably to $6 in the UK. One point of warning: don’t buy drinks at the airport hotels. In Paris I was stung for $36 for a pint of beer and a small glass of Rose!

Rick Wakeman review

http://www.rwcc.com/gigreview.asp?int_reviewID=8

Welcome

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In here you will read my random rantings on everything....
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C