Barbecue pork

A week or so ago a visit to the Estrela in Vauxhall. On the day, I was pleased that the temperature had come down a bit and there was a cooling breeze - although it was still warm enough when the breeze dropped.

Left a little early as I had chemist business in town, but still did not have enough time to deal with a trolley in the passages car park.

A lot of (white) South African chatter near me on the train, chatter which was innocuous enough but which, for some reason, I found rather irritating. But it was one of those new trains, low on seats and I could not bother to move away.

A trolley outside the Crossfit operation under the arches at Clapham Junction. A fair amount of litter to dispose of and a fair walk back to Asda - so I left this one for the professionals.

Given the rather chunky look of most of the people - who pretty much all look under 40 to me - working out there - I think the option bottom right might be the one for me. Snap lifted from reference 1.

It took me three attempts to pull a Bullingdon at Grant Road, but eventually got away on an old one. A bit creaky but serviceable. Not impressed by the clutter of Lime bikes at the stand. And I have yet to make it to the Asparagus, open but no longer a 'spoons - named, I believe, for the asparagus that used to be grown in the area before it was a proper part of London. Not the Aspidistra, which is the name the brain first landed on: not too big a jump. From where I associate to the days when I used to cultivate our aspidistras for their interesting, sessile flowers. For which see reference 6. And I think Bing has got it about right in the snap below. And for a bit of light entertainment, try reference 10.

Quiet run until I got to the dogs' home and then things picked up a bit. So much so that I forget myself and didn't think about cutting across to Wandsworth Road until I was nearly at Vauxhall Cross. A bit of back-tracking then fiddled my way across, then failed to find Wyvil Road at the first attempt, so more back-tracking. But I got parked up outside Gail's eventually and made my way back to the Griffin Belle for a pick-me-up.

More or less impossible to avoid all the many screens there, but I was impressed to learn that a professional golfer can hit a ball more than 300m. Which seemed to me to be a very long way: I think I might have trouble picking out the flag at that distance, let along hitting a ball anywhere near it. From where I associated to the prodigies of accuracy of stone throwing that can be achieved by Australian aborigines. Noticed but not referenced at reference 2 below. Also tennis players and footballers with their balls.

Onto the Estrela where I took one of the dishes of the day, grilled pork spare ribs. Now I have had grilled pork ribs there, perhaps spare rib, served plain and which was very good. This pork however was doused in the sort of thick, sweet sauce known as barbecue sauce to the pub dining trade. FIL used to be fond of it, but I prefer my grills more or less plain. That said, one got a lot of meat and it was a substantial meal for the money, if a little messy. For once I passed on dessert. But I did not pass on the Deu Deu, without bucket, naturally.

The outside terrace had been fitted out for the football for the evening before (Portugal lost), so one was nicely sheltered from both sun and wind. All very pleasant.

Strolled back to Vauxhall where I thought that this fairly conservative installation might have replaced the more exuberant outdoor art noticed at reference 5, with the chap selling the flats above wanting something a bit more conventional for his prospects, but closer inspection says not. Further inspection needed.

Scored a two on the platform, but the first plane was down in the west, the second plane was down in the east and I was never going to convert it to a three.

No standing up for the elderly on this occasion either. Commuters, tired from their days' work, rather than the young, foreign, holiday makers of central London.

Out at Epsom to recover the trolley mentioned above and previously noticed at reference 3. Plus cherries, I think my first exposure to the Grace Star cherries mentioned earlier today at reference 4.

PS1: I don't think that I was ever going to make it to Crawley this evening, even if I had got around to this before 19:30 - but these campaign people are impressively busy. Fingers crossed.

PS 2: not sure why the NYT chose to give so much space to the piece at reference 7. Nothing quite like lefties for quarrelling among themselves. From where I associate (on the basis of close to no knowledge of the matter) to Freud's theory of the narcissism of small differences, to be found at reference 8, with a sample snapped above. Or reference 9 for something a touch more accessible.

References

Reference 1: https://shapesmiths.com/.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/03/more-spheres.html.

Reference 3: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/06/trolley-716.html.

Reference 4: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/07/trolleys-723-724.html.

Reference 5: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/02/hill-start.html.

Reference 6: https://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.com/2008/11/nonews.html.

Reference 7: Britain’s Next Prime Minister Has Shown Us Who He Is, and It’s Not Good - Oliver Eagleton, New York Times - 2024.

Reference 8: Civilisation and its discontents - S. Freud - 1930.

Reference 9: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narcissism_of_small_differences.

Reference 10: https://youtu.be/QyRvLSekKZE.