This weekend, my girls came to stay and that always makes me an excitable-child level of happy.
Maybe if I’d never met G and there was no such thing as ginger cats or melted camembert, I’d probably say these 5 gals are the biggest love of my life. They’re just the fucking best. Trying to find a weekend that we can all actually do is about as likely as seeing a giraffe just chilling in St Albans park but it does occasionally happen; and this weekend was one of those occasions.
We set up camp, I whipped out the spread I’d put together (bread, hummus & vegan cookies) and we rejoiced in the fact that the sun was out despite all the predictions of pure cloud. It was a joy even if the ‘99’ ice creams we bought did cost £1.99. Change the name already jeez.
Tell you what lads, Tesco bakery bread is well and truly underappreciated. The olive bread is amazing and don’t even get me started on the jalapeño and cheese.
We mostly ate, nattered and cooed at the little baby crawling after the pigeons, and if that’s not a good afternoon then I dunno what is.
The evening was spent in The Bishop’s Cave where we bemused the waiter by how seriously we took the task of choosing our cheese (yeah, we got a pen & paper out…). We ate antipasti, some incredible truffle crisps which I need to get my hands on, and 3 cheeseboards. Oh my god so good.
As an aside, I’ve been – for the most part – REALLY GOOD at the whole vegan thing until this moment…
We also drank plenty of wine. When G saw my card transaction the next day, he was like ‘was that each?!’ so, lol, we did well.
And then we skipped our way home through the cathedral grounds, taking stupid selfies as we went. Back at the flat, there was also some kind of drunken dancing to Ed Sheeran’s Galway Girl which I think started because we decided that someone using the foot pump to blow up the airbed kind of looked like an Irish jig… but who really knows.
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