The Hillside North End (or is that Heritage Hillside) book club celebrates its first anniversary. The seven members, who span two adjacent postcodes, braved a 42 mile journey for a Christmas bash at the George and Vulture in Cornhill, London.
What started as a remark at the No 11 Chilli and Champagne get together last Christmas has turned into a fully fledged reading group, now with outings (last month we braved the 700m walk to the library). Thanks to Cheryl for knowing where to have fun in London and for organising the event and providing a pass the parcel, chocolate Santas and crackers. A minor confusion about the date added a slight frisson to the occasion.
We met on schedule beside the Monument to start our afternoon in the city. After a quick one in The Fine Line, Cheryl led us to the George and Vulture, a historic chop house rebuilt after the great fire where Charles Dickens is said to have written parts of the Pickwick Papers. By the time we got settled in with our crackers pulled and our hats on things were looking quite festive.
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The menue was quite Dickensian and unsurprisingly there was not much to satisfy any special dietary needs. This meant that Shaun ended up with pretty much his own bodyweight in mushrooms with stilton.
Clive warms up to the idea of wearing a hat later in the afternoon (see picture further on) but at this stage he looks a little skeptical about the idea.
Notice the wine bottles with loosly fitted corks behind Clive - there is not an extensive choice of wine at the George and Vulture, its red or white, with no mucking about tasting it or sniffing the cork. I think George might have been up all the previous night making it.
We managed to get through enough of the aforementioned wine to have a rather loud game of American style pass the parcel. The present at the centre was a posable figurine of Charles Dickens with a 'removable (but not replaceable) hat' seen here paddling in a communal stilton. I hope the previous nibblers at this cheese treated it with more decorum.
When we'd finished our lunch the waiter took us upstairs to the private dining rooms (the availability of which caused the confusion over the date) where Dickens allegedly penned some parts of the PP.
The smaller of the rooms had been vacated by its diners but emboldened by Chilean and South African courage we gatecrashed the tail end of a lunch a group of posh city types with a Hong Kong connection were having. Fortunately they were very welcoming and offered us a glass of their port and took our picture.
After leaving the G&V we still had some life in us so we went to Leadenhall Market for a post lunch drink. Unfortunately it was so crowded we couldn't get near a bar for a drink but Clive managed to charm the hat off of the bouncer at the Lamb Tavern whilst he was evicting us and we went back to The Fine Line. Things went a bit awry then for a while, Cheryl dashed off to get lost in Balcome, Clive and Barry lost the rest of party on London Bridge and we got separated for a couple of hours. All was not lost though. Cheryl made it to a fun jazz evening and we met up at the Bear back in Horsham for a quick one before dashing to the Co-op for a pint of milk on the way home.
I think a great time was had by all - we just need someone to book that trip to Berlin now, any volunteers?
Lawrence was a little perplexed at the size of the seat and its proximity to the one in front. On the way back the person in front complained that his knees were in her back - but there isn't a lot you can do about the length of your legs.
Temple of Doom steps down from the jacuzzi area down into the pool. The steps come out in the archway (see picture below). 
Abby and Lawrence on the bridge over the pool. Suddenly it makes sense why university students would go on holiday with their mums. 
Christmas dinner, bangers and mash - Pity they couldn't even stump up a glass of fizz for the xmas day flight, especially as they don't permit consuption of your own alcohol on board. No frills air travel is to be endured as a means to an end. 
