psmv5: Via Carshalton

Having verified the candidate Wellingtonia, as noticed at reference 1, I spotted another lorry from (DJG, as noticed at reference 2, but it was both moving and a fair distance away, so I could not see whether it had a paint job never mind its registration plate.

Carried on to Clapham Junction, where I was amused by a bevy of Muslim girls, one in a sober black head scarf and another wearing extremely tight fitting leggings. I associate to a story about something of the same sort, on one and the same girl, on a beach in Turkey.

Pulled a Bullingdon at the well-stocked Grant Road stand and headed off towards Vauxhall, via Battersea. Two wagtails on CS8 (Cycle Superhighway No.8) and a paint job on the wagon end of a lorry from Sivyer Transport. I had not heard of them before, but from reference 3 they appear to be a substantial business built around haulage - although they are not big into pictures of their operations, so no impressive snap to be lifted.

River looking well in the late morning sun, but I did not have time to get down onto the beach, even supposing there had been some stairs to hand. I don't think I would have chanced a ladder.

Plus a relic, more or less opposite where I was standing. I had thought a public house, but probably Tyburn House, marking the place where the Tyburn (of execution fame) joins the Thames. And zooming even further in reveals an arched opening, just what one would expect for an old branch of the river. Perhaps why they thought it best not to build over. This from a perusal of Grosvenor Road on gmaps, now known to be the continuation north of the river of Cycle Superhighway No.8. See reference 4.

Took a turn around Vauxhall Station, managing not to get lost in the maze of cycle ways, to emerge at the start of South Lambeth Road.

Parked up outside Gail's and took a quick beverage at the nearby Griffin Belle, a place I have known flying under various colours and which I still visit occasionally. Griffin presumably being an allusion to the plaque on the Vauxhall cars which used (a long time ago) to be made in Vauxhall. New tables and chairs on this occasion. And, not being busy, I managed to get a seat reasonably out of range of the loudspeakers.

According to the note I made at the time, the ladies football on the TNT sports screens contained the code 'PAR CHE' which I eventually parsed as Paris St. Germain versus Chelsea. However, inquiry today reveals no such match. For example, neither Chelsea men nor Chelsea women seem to have played on this day. And while CHE does seem to be Chelsea, Paris St. Germain is actually PSG, with the only result for PAR being the lowly Parma, which seems a bit unlikely. I learn that despite the widespread fascination with football, a lot of places (other than clubs) which do results do not go back a fortnight. For example, TNT Sports does not, or at least if it does, I can't find it. And unfortunately, while a screen can be seen in a mirror in the snap above, zoom does not help. So I try Gemini, and he gives me a long and plausible story about how I have either got the date or the codes wrong, a story which I should perhaps check properly.

The menu was strong on burgers and I was reminded that they do topped chips - which last makes a handy snack given the demise of the simple sandwich. I once had them in the sister establishment called the Duchess Belle, near the power station, as noticed at reference 5.

However, the point of the snap second above was the new-to-me coffee machine. I ask Bing for 'Rancilio Julius Meinl', who turns up the Austrian coffee company of reference 10. A company which appears to be mainly into selling coffee capsules for coffee machines. No sign of Rancilio. Turning to Google, I get to reference 11, where I get the fine snap of an older machine, included above, looking more like a lager engine that a coffee engine of today. Also that Rancilio is now owned by the Ali Group of reference 12, who appear to be big in catering equipment, but not to be into food and drink at all. Presumably Julius Meinl have partnered with them for the purposes of doing coffee in hospitality outlets. I wonder whether Lavazza - strong on the Isle of Wight - do both the coffee and the machines? I also wonder, as I type, about the relative sizes of the coffee and alcohol businesses. I would guess that the former is a lot smaller, but that it has made a lot of ground over the past fifty years.

Moving on from there, I managed to drop my spectacles on the road, where they did not break, not even popping a lens out of the frame. I dare say something of the sort would have happened in the olden days, when lenses were made of more ordinary glass than they are now.

For some reason, at this point, I was reminded of a character called Bidlake in Aldous Huxley's novel 'Antic Hay', an old chap, a famous and once libidinous painter, the father of the main character. He is excited, in a passing way, by the shape of a passing girl, and he gets all nostalgic about the days when such things were a lot more important than they had become. Not sure that I had got this right, I even tried looking for the book in Epsom a few days later, but neither the Library nor Oxfam could oblige. But Wikipedia puts me right today at reference 6. I had conflated 'Antic Hay' with 'Point Counter Point'. To think that I once used to think that I knew both novels quite well - and I am pretty sure that I have read both of them several times. Before the chuck out noticed at reference 7 that is.

Estrela seemed quite quiet on this occasion. Their bread had improved, possibly a change of baker or supplier. Their liver was good, better as far as I was concerned than the fancier offering at, for example. 2Veneti. Except that it came swimming in a sea of what seemed to be mainly oil. Plus the vegetables had clearly been sitting around far too long and were reduced to a rather unpleasant green mush. Which I was not able to get down, at least not all down. I should have asked for a bowl into which to strain all the oil, but I did not think of that until it was too late.

Passion fruit cheesecake fine and I managed to get it without added cream or ice-cream, neither of which were necessary to my mind.

The same wine as I have taken a couple of times before, Cartuxa Évora Colheita 2020, the first time on the occasion noticed at reference 7, an occasion which came up only the other day in connection with bicycle sheds that look like pig houses. Also the occasion at which I made the acquaintance of the Deadwood series on television. Yet another series with clever introductory material on which a lot of time and effort has been expended, but which becomes tedious when you have seen it a few times. A wine which had got six years younger in the two years since I first had it. But still entirely satisfactory. Rounded off with a spot of a rather sweet brandy, which might or might not have been aguardente.

Over the meal, I managed to conflate two rags-to-riches stories, as explained at reference 9. The TDR group is not and is not related to the Bestway group.

I also mentioned the huge damages awarded against Trump in one of his court cases involving molested ladies. My line being that they were disproportionate to the offence. On which I was reminded that they were proportionate to the wealth of the accused: big enough to deter. Which is fair enough, but I would feel happier about it if the recipient donated most if not all of the money to some worthy cause. The government?

After all of which I headed back down to Vauxhall to be very impressed by the play of the crepuscular light around all the new tower blocks. Not for the first time. There was also a lady, probably the manageress or proprietress, in what looked like full traditional dress, in a fairly newly opened Chinese restaurant, more or less empty at the time.

Also by the same play of light around the large Travis Perkins outlet. Much bigger even than the new outlet on our own Longmead Estate, in what used to be yard for Epsom Coaches.

Even more impressive setting sun lights to the west at Earlsfield, but they were very fleeting and I don't suppose my telephone would have made much of them anyway.

Crowded train at Motspur Park, so perhaps there had been a cancellation. But it was very silent; one supposed that it was full of people who were tired after a day's work and just wanted a bit of quiet on their way home. That said, there were some noises and I found it odd how the brain was picking out some and not others. Rather like a rather creaky radio receiver, tuning into some frequencies and not others, but not making a very good job of it.

For once, I walked home from the station. I forget when the habit of getting taxis kicked in - but it must be some years ago now.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/02/wellingtonia-110.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/01/registration-plates.html.

Reference 3: https://www.hsivyer.com/.

Reference 4: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyburn.

Reference 5: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/04/notre-dame.html.

Reference 6: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Point_Counter_Point.

Reference 7: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/01/huxley.html.

Reference 8: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2021/12/the-last-visit-to-town-for-while.html.

Reference 9: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/02/erratum.html.

Reference 10: https://juliusmeinl.com/.