Westbrook at the dead of night.

Ssshhhh! All is quiet. No traffic on the road, just two ships anchored in the Roads, telly on mute, the gentle hum from the pooter cooling fan the only discernible sound. Very calming, very nice.

Apart from a short visit to mummy allatsea to check on the old girl, the day has involved nowt but stagnation and sloth.  True the keyboard took a bit of a hammering at times but as physical movement and industry was concerned, bugger all. That said there was a half hearted attempt at one point to set the world of culinary experiment on fire by making up a bowl of hummus using half chick peas and half  pearl barley. It was very yum but unlikely to get tongues wagging in any sense of the word. Still, a marked improvement on recent attempts using the more traditional approach. Imho of course. No imminent call to appear on ‘Saturday Kitchen’ expected. The only reason us at the towers would like to get such an invite would be  so that the chance of bumping into Greg Wallace (him off the telly) would improve a tadge and then we could tell him, face to ugly face, just what a blagging fraud he is. Ahh, deep joy at that thought. Come to think of it though, he probably gets told that quite a lot, millions of times a day, most likely.

Off to France next week. Good Friday will be spent in or around Nantes. CMID’ing a freighter.  There’s very little in the maritime world that is more dull than vessel audits, but that said  it will be done with good grace and enthusiasm. Clients pay a fair old wodge for such services so only fair to give them what they pay for. Board with a smile, a hefty dose of cynicism, a 50 page checklist and all will be well. I note that said vessel is Russian managed, so fingers crossed all the documentation is in the  language of the good and the great and not in Cyrillic or similar. The thought of travelling in the Catholic nation that is Belle France may prove to be  a bit of challenge over the Easter holidays but time will tell on that. Time to dust off the Tom Tom and venture forth by jamjar probably the best bet. Relying on trains and taxis  not a good idea this time.

The picture below has absolutely nothing to do with the previous three paragraphs. It was taken in a Tabernacle Street tavern (just of Old Street, London)  and the reason the photo was taken was not to celebrate chip culture or record a momentous pub lunch but rather to support any subsequent litigation. They charged allatsea £5 for that plate of anaemic garbage (around 25p a chip) and ‘me and the boys’ were not happy. That said, after  four pints of Amstel, allatsea really didn’t care any more.

chips

About allatsea

Sixty year old master-mariner. Absolutely gorgeous. Well wedged.....when compared to a Nairobi street urchin. Sorted, in that I haven't been in court recently. Hopelessly optimistic, terminally disappointed. Good with cats and other fluffy things. No musical talent. Generous to a fault provided it's someone else's round. Political centreist with far right and left viewpoints. A green activist from the hydrocarbon position with nuclear leanings. Averse to avarice but always happy to receive lottery wins, gifts, windfalls, legacies, prizes and wet sloppy kisses.
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