2 and a half years out of University, and the glamour of London working life is fading rapidly.
What’s the Craic?
There are approximately 60 hours in the weekend. From your 6pm clock off to your alarm clock early(ish) on Monday morning, 60 whole hours to enjoy. Sometimes rest and relaxation are needed, but all too often I take weekends for granted and fritter them away on a hangover or a boxset.
So this past weekend, I used my 60 hours extremely efficiently – with a trip to Dublin. A team of 5 gals all headed to the Emerald Isle. Whilst this sounds like the premise of some horrible chick flick, it was actually quite civilised.
Our trip by numbers:
x60 hours of weekend to spend
x1 flight to Bologna that we nearly boarded by accident
x1 ‘Spa Hotel’ Airbnb
x2 boxes of Milk Tray left on beds by Spa Hotel Host
x4 half pints of Guinness
x1 empty Guinness pint glass used to pose for social media shots
x1 night club
x1 times ‘Bad Blood’ by Taylor Swift was played as request to the DJ in said night club
x3 ice creams
x2 Donald Trump masks
x1 selfie stick
unknown number of selfies
What we ate:
Seasonal menu that changes daily. Relaxed and friendly atmosphere – the burrata was truly scrumptious.
A department store with Selfridges vibes. We went to the food section and got some delicious deli treats which we ate in the park in the sun.
We actually only stumbled in and out of here, while we were looking for a club that played cheesy music but it looked great! A speakeasy feel with very trendy music – I would definitely give it a go.
And for the culture …
This was the highlight as agreed by all of us. A large gallery featuring a wide range of artists, from old masters to contemporary. It also has a dedicated Francis Bacon section – did you know he was born in Ireland? Inside the gallery they have resurrected his South Kensington Studio. Really informative on his process as an artist, accompanied by some pieces of work undertaken in the final years of his life. Very cool.
Everyone knows Castles are cool. This one was average but probably worth a visit if you like that kind of thing.
Great permanent collection, some good exhibitions coming up. It’s free, why not?
At the awkward late 20s stage, only minorly disillusioned by living and working in London.
This week I experienced something that causes great frustration to many women aged between 18 and 40 – the ruthless supermarket ID challenge. Many supermarkets will ID when you go to buy alcohol and ‘look’ under 25 – which seems a little mean considering you can buy alcohol aged 18 years of age. If you haven’t been ID’d recently, the most frustrating part is that if you are in a group, and one of you ‘looks under 25’ and they have no ID on them, you will all be going home empty handed. 🍷😢
At the grand old age of 28 I get ID’d frequently, and no batting of eyelashes will persuade the kind check-out people to sell me alcohol without an ID. I know, I know it is very flattering that I still apparently look youthful, but really, when you are on your way out in the evening and you quickly need to buy a bottle of wine enroute, and you find your driving licence is not in your wallet it can be a little annoying.
On Wednesday this week two friends and I approached Sainsbury’s with trepidation. We had decided to have a picnic on Wandsworth Common as it was a lovely evening. Into the shopping basket went all sorts of nice picnic things, including a couple of bottles of cider. Before reaching the checkout we decided on our strategy. With 85 years between us, but not a single form of ID we decided to split. I would try and buy a bottle of cider on my own at the cash desk, pretending I didn’t know the other two. The others would go to the self scan, and with one prominent baby bump, and one sharp work outfit between them, it seemed like they were in with a good chance.
I failed at the first step – ‘Can I see you ID please’, ‘I’m afraid I haven’t got it on me, but I was born in the 80s’. Nope. No cider for me.
The other two also had little success, no amount of ‘I’ve been working in mergers and acquisitions for the last six years, she’s pregnant,’ would change his mind.
So we left Sainsbury’s without any cider for our picnic, and were very sad indeed.
All was not lost however, as luckily there was small independent wine shop around the corner who very kindly sold us a far superior bottle of cider, and the pub even gave us some plastic glasses. 😊
Halfway through the picnic I realised was wearing a jumper emblazoned with the words,
‘Heathfield School, Physical Eduction’.
Perhaps next time I will bring my ID 🙈.
4 British sparkling wines for you to admire:
About to graduate from University, excited for intrepid adventures into the real world.
Susan’s last exam is on Thursday, good luck Susannah!! 🙏