Lunch in Fossgate

[shewhomust]

On our way home from Bolton Abbey, we had lunch with J and J in York. York was a detour from our homeward route, but not by much; we were delayed by traffic in Harrogate, and it seems we cannot take the car to York without making a complete circuit of the walls (which would be a pleasure if we weren't already running late). We reached our destination - our favourite tapas bar in Fossgate - to find J and J waiting for us, enjoying a glass of sherry. It was the staff who greeted us with "What sort of time do you call this...?" Only now does it occur to me that the correct answer is "Spanish time!".

This - and the excellence of the tapas, and the pleasures of the wine list, and the joy of enjoying the latter (well, both of the aforementioned, but especially the latter) with people who enjoy it as much as we do - is why this is our favourite tapas bar. The company and the conversation would be excellent anywhere, and they were, and it seemed like no time at all before we left J and J with their dessert (more and different sherry) and set off for home.

Seen in the hundred yards or so back to the car paek:

The rain which had been threatened for days finally caught up with us on the A19, and when it came it was impressive: thunder, lightning, torrential downpour, and flooding on the road (although this last thankfully not until we reached Shincliffe, nearly home).

Comments

[athenais]

I, too, would like a vision of David Bowie as I take out the trash. It would cheer me up.