So part two of yesterday’s
story, Tasting the town.
We got so lost. We
walked down streets of despair, avenues of anger, roads of rowdiness and lanes of
boutiques. The bitter damp night was
becoming more of a threat. I wanted to give in. I was tired and exhausted. I
really just wanted to curl in a corner and cry. I reverted back to being that little girl again
at our dreadful sad boarding school, desperate for my Mum. I prayed in silence
and felt I let my Husband down because I too could not see to find our way. Why
was I so stupid to think we could do this on our own? We must have been mad? It
was dangerous. Crazy. The guilt the pain my Husband was going through. He did not want to let me down, but how could
he? We after all are in the same boat of blindness and we could sink or swim.
Well believe me, that old boat sank, but boy, did we swim? I am a rubbish
swimmer and I held onto my Husband with only life in mind. Each breath I took
walking up the hill and through the cobbled streets was for my husband. How
could I allow him to think he has let me
down? Our IPhone really let us down with its maps. You see arrows
pointing I think if you can see, if not,
you just hear street names, which is fine, if you know the names of the streets but as we
are new to the area, we were stuffed.
All sorts of things were going through my mind. “Why do
we have to act like sighted people? Why did we have to push our luck. We had
been to town already that day and it was really successful. Were we being greedy wanting two bites of the apple?
Well, were we? After all, if you can see, you go to shop and then might go out
for dinner in the evening? But we can’t see, are we or should we always be so
different?
My clever Husband recognized a street and I remembered
the next three streets, though I had echoes of his weary voice telling me I was
going in the wrong direction, but I sometimes am like a homing pigeon and can
get back from places. Then I got lost just as my Husbands voice became more
cheerful and said he now knew where we were! “Thank God, I thought. So not giving
up, my Husband told me he knew there was a restaurant called ASK on that
street. Oh, I did not have an appetite. I was really shattered and felt like quitting.
How could we find it, how could we find the door to the right building? I was
sick of guessing. We stood, we waited and we asked when we heard someone who
sounded a little caring pass us. Someone
who did not sound like they had just drank the bar dry. He was an American tourist/student, but he said we were
about ten foot from the door. My Husband asked if he would show us. I waited
for him to say no, but bless him, he walked us to the start of the steep, steps
to the doorway. We thanked him and I
heavily heaved myself up the stone steps, into the glass doors. Well when we
walk in anywhere, normally there is someone comes over and asks us if they can
help, or take us to a table? We stood and listened, as obviously we don’t know
what is in front of us, and we heard nothing but a distant sound of diners. We were in a huge I mean really
huge hall way. It was the size of a
entrance into a vast art gallery. It had a marble like floor and there was no
one around. Oh God, how much more could I take? I wanted to turn around but
knew we had come that far, so had to go further. I lead my husband as in
buildings, I have more confidence than him. Found another set of doors, by
following the sounds of the clunking of glasses and knives and forks. A lady
came to us as we pushed open the doors and walked in. Oh my God. The noise? I can
only describe it as a cross between a children’s play area and a swimming pool.
Voices echoed but we could not hear what people were talking about as it was
all so loud.
I could hardly hear the lady but my Husband did as he
spoke with her and began to walk. I hung on for life, squeezing through narrow
lanes of tables. “Where on earth had we come to?” We were sat at a tiny wooden
table with dreadfully hard wooden chairs. It was like being in the middle of an
amusement arcade. Oh my word it was awful.
The waitress came over to us, sat at our table and began
to read the menu. Well I could only hear every seventeen words, so stayed safe
and had a salad and garlic mushrooms. My Husband had a pasta that was spicy and
we had cheese garlic bread for starters. My salad was absolutely delicious. There
was everything on that plate that I would not normally put on at home so I
really loved it and the mushrooms were stunning with fresh parsley on the top.
My Husbands pasta, was freshly made he loved it and the thin cheese garlic bread was mouth wateringly magnificent.
Well despite the dreadful surroundings, the sounds of
hell to be honest, the food was wonderful and the waitress was so sweet. She
wore a beautiful perfume called Blue Jeans. I had the cheek to ask. Thankfully
I heard her or did I? Could it have been Blue queens? Or Loo teams?
For dessert, I had berries and ice cream, with nuts. Hub
had Tiramisu. We had some drinks, I had two soft drinks and my Husband had
three bottles of beer. The bill? I was shocked as it was a glorified café, with
no fancy table wear and it cost £60. I thought that was so deer? There was no
steak or expensive fish. It was salad and pasta. But the fact is, we got fed,
the food was truly tasty and the lady was very sweet and helpful, she even guided us through the vast
amount of people out of the place. I would not recommend the place for its ambience,
but for its food? Yes. I would recommend also not to ever give up as the
feeling of achievement was wonderful and that feeling, could never be served,
even at the finest restaurants.
My final word on this blog, is if you are in a place where
you think you can never get out of the house, where you feel like crawling on the
ground. Where you feel like there is no
tomorrow and you cry all day and night. If you feel like what happened to me at
the weekend, only happens to people like me and not you, well, let me tell you.
I was you for so many years and I still have days like you and that is why I
feel like writing the one good day or day of achievement. The one day out of forty.
But my one day out of forty now, used to be no days out of a quarter of a century.
I can promise you my friends, you just never know what or who, is around the
corner! x
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