An Evening Out in Notts

Another weekend escape. Another gathering of friends

I'm not always thrilled to be in Nottingham I must admit. It's been a bittersweet place for me. But it is definitely good to get away from the daily grind once in awhile. And it is good to see heaps of familiar faces, even if it gets a bit tiring answering, "So how is Bristol?" multiple times. I arrived in Nottingham on a Saturday afternoon. My friend Tom was celebrating his 21st birthday. He had said to me weeks earlier that his birthday was on a Saturday, he'd booked the best restaurant in town for his select bunch of family and friends and that I had no excuse not to come. He was right.

I went straight to the house in Sneinton. Not the house where I lived last year, but the house two doors down where I stayed upon my return last Autumn. I still had my keys so I let myself in and dropped my stuff in what was now my own room. I found my way to the top of the house, where I hung out with housemate Phil for a bit. Tom was at his mom's and we were due to pick him up shortly.

We arrived at Tom's mom's house, said hello to the family and got back in the car for a trip to ASDA. ASDA, owned by Wal-mart, is the megabox grocery store of Britain. There's something very familiar about its huge suburban presence and its ridiculously low prices juxtaposed with yellow happy faces. The place was, as one would expect, buzzing with activity. We picked up some cases of beers and spirits and proceeded to the self-serve checkout. Of course, when purchasing alcohol, the self-serve checkout becomes a bit useless, as one needs a member of staff to verify that it is not being purchased by a minor. After taking longer to check out than it would have taken with an actual human cashier, we were on our way.

We stopped back at the house to stock the fridge and get into our smart clothes. I dread the idea of going out in uncomfortable dress shoes, but running shoes just don't go with dress pants, so I had to bite the bullet. Our destination was a restaurant near Nottingham Castle called World Service - a strange name, a slightly kitschy decor, but one of the best in the city, perhaps even the county.

Canapés consisted of handcut potato crisps (chips to us Western Hemispherians)which were a bit fancier than they might sound, with a special house dip and a selection of olives. Once all of the guests arrived we took our place at the table, only one of a few in the restaurant. Having had a bit of time to ponder over the set menu, I made my decision. A red and white wine were chosen and I was charged with the honour of trying the red. I wasn't exactly sure what I was checking for. I don't really have a sophisticated palate. I just 'knows what I likes.'

For the starter I ordered the sea bass with shaved onion crisp and tomato jelly cube (There was a more proper name for it than that, but it escapes me at the moment). My main was a Derbyshire fillet of beef with onion tart Tatin, green beans and Madeira sauce, served with steamed vegetables. I'm not going to lie. I found the meat was less tender than I would have hoped. Nevertheless it was quite delicious. Afters consisted of a chocolate fondant with pistachio ice cream, crusted pistachio nuts and a malted milkshake. It was incredibly rich but I managed to finish every last bite. In the end the bill only came to £50, which might sound a bit steep, but some of the drinks were covered by Adam so it was much less than it would have been.

We continued on to a few bars and then onto the old former employer's establishment for some previously arranged and paid-for refreshments. Whenever I'm in Nottingham, I end up hanging out there, and it keeps illustrating to me how much I dislike being there; not because of the people I've met there but the atmosphere and the clientele. It's a bit upmarket and trendy for my 'quiet-night-down-the-pub' sensibilities. I know, I sound like a grouchy old man. In any case, I got to see a celebrity while I was there in the friend-of-a-friend variety. Adam's friend Joe Dempsie showed up. A native of Nottingham, who is an actor on a popular Bristol-based TV show called Skins, his character was killed off on the previous week's episode. I wasn't introduced or anything but I was standing close-by for an extended period, and at one point, literally rubbed elbows.

The party continued onto the house where the previously stocked fridge awaited. I changed into my Nottingham Forest jersey which seemed to drum up pride in the locals. Nottingham is one of the few places I have the guts to wear the shirt. It wouldn't be a wise idea to wear it in Bristol methinks. The gathering continued till all hours, followed by much sleep.

The next day I walked into town to catch up on what's new in the Sheriff's city before getting back on the bus for the long ride back to the Southwest, which is made all the longer by way of an hour's stop at Birmingham's bus station, one of my least favourite places in the world. It's always good to get back to Bristol though. Unfortunately I awoke the next morning with a plugged ear which I eventually found out, after much pain and pressure, was a middle ear infection. Three days off work and a regime of antibiotics later, life is getting back to normal. Time to do some more travelling, though I'm up for some travels in this corner of the country for a change.

Cheers.