Ok, let’s get the unpleasantness out of the way first, shall we? You will have heard me moaning on and on here about my bloody cholesterol, well time came around to do another test. To be truthful, the time came and went for me to do another test by many months. But I could put it off no longer, I went and booked a session with my new doctor. Dr Val is a very nice Sri Lankan bloke.
Ok, so we do the usual formalities, BP, weight, etc. He then asks the routine questions about my general diet, health, exercise, and whether I’d followed the advice he gave me when I saw him last. Seeing as this advice consisted of; “Eat no fat whatsoever,” and, “Stop drinking totally, forever,” my honest responses to these two questions were; “Yes, and boy has it been fucking boring,” and “No, I haven't, not really.”
He didn’t seem too bothered. Well, seeing as I have to I pay him for his advice, and it’s my liver that getting a hammering, why should he be bothered?
Then he tells me that he wants me to wear a portable blood pressure monitor for 24 hours, as my BP was in the critical zone. Again. No worries Doc. My local path lab ($$$) has these, and so I’ll wear one on my day off. He makes me promise not to go to the gym during that day as it skews the readings, and to try not to down a half-bottle of Scotch during that period, as that does too.
Then he says; “When did you last have a prostate exam Mr Thomas?” Despite quickly thinking; “Yesterday, no, the day before, the wife gave me one,” which was what I wanted to say, no luck; “It’s just that we don’t seem to have a record of you having one, and as you’re over fifty you should have one every year.” I backed away slowly; "Gosh is that the time, I mustn't keep you doctor.” Next thing you know, I’m on the couch, knees up by my elbows, trousers round my ankles, and not to put too fine a point on it; HE STUCK HIS FINGER UP MY ARSE!
Dear god, I hardly know the man. I mean, he could have taken me out for a meal first.
At this point my gay mates , (yes you Aidan and Patrick, and you Scooter, I mean you guys,) will be creased up laughing, and preparing witty Wildean retorts and sage advice. Forget it boys, I didn’t even get an erection. The rest of you are probably trying to remember how the “two hands on your shoulders” joke goes, I’m way ahead of you, don’t bother.
“It’s slightly enlarged,” he said. “I ‘m not surprised, you just rammed your bloody finger up it,” I nearly said, but then realized he was talking about my prostate. Hmmm…
So he added a few more tests ($$$) to my path sheet and sent me on my way. A couple of days later I was bled dry at the path lab, and pissed in a little pot. Then a nice nurse person fitted me with a BP monitor. It’s the usual cuff system, but attached to a small battery powered box, about the size of a thick paperback book, which you carry about in your pocket for the day. I walked the dogs, did some cooking, worked on some bloody awful music, and just had a normal day. (OK, I did have a couple of glasses of wine too.) It fired up every 15 minutes, a bit uncomfortable, but bearable. Not so much a problem during the day, but the fucking thing fired up every hour at night. How many times can you be woken from sleep, thinking your arm is being bitten off by a Rottweiler, before you crack?
The next day, ragged as hell, I took it back.
Later that night, I went to put my hearing aids in as we were watching a program without subtitles. I could only find one of them. Bollocks! Thinking back to the last time I wore them, it was at the path lab. Ok, so where did I take them out? In the car park on the way back to the car. Oh deep frigging joy! Not only will they find that I have a knackered heart, screwed up cholesterol, a ruined prostate, and am pissing pure single malt, but they’ll also find my hearing aid embedded in their tarmac. That’s three grand down the tubes then.
(Luckily, I later found it down the side of the drivers side seat of my car, Phew!)
So, why is this episode of “a life of tragedy” called “A momentary Lapse of Time”? Well for a start it’s a rip off of the title of one of Pink Floyd’s (less good) albums. (Albums? Are they even called that anymore?) But the real reason is that I was on a local website, and came across this video. It’s a time-lapse of montage of various sites around Canberra, and rather lovely. The inevitable happened, and I got one of my enthusiasms; “I can do that!!”
Or, no I cannot, I suddenly realised, as I didn’t have a bloody clue how you do one. But when has that ever stopped me?
Ok, first things first, a bit of research on “youtube”. For months now I’ve been scanning youtube for tutorials, and tips and tricks, on using my camera and photoshop, (normally when I should be working.) It really is a vast resource of information, and I’ve learned lots, (don’t say it.) So it wasn’t long before I came across this tutorial, and bloody hell he makes it look simple. I already had most of the kit I needed, and all of the software, so I was even more enthused. The one thing I was missing though was the heart and soul of the endeavor, an intervalometer. Being a cheapskate I picked up the cheapest one I could find, off e-bay, ($13.00) No worries.
I started shooting a few time lapses, some were good, some were bad, I enjoyed the learning process. But I needed a theme, a direction, a purpose. Seeing as I shot most of them while out walking the dogs, and boy were they pissed off with waiting about for hours while I did so, I decided; “Places I walk my dogs” would be the theme. Which is totally frigging boring I know, but bear with me on this.
So from there on, as you may have guessed, where ever I went to shoot was exactly the wrong place to go. For instance, the Lake Burley Griffin scenes were shot on the one day in a century there were no skiffs on the lake. You get my drift? But eventually I had all but one of my regular walking spots shot. So I went to Aranda Bush to shoot there, and the intervalometer blew up. Oh deep joy. I ordered a better one. Rather than wait and to Aranda Bush included, I put together the time lapse, and made some music for it.
Here's take one:
I whacked it on Youtube, posted links to it and asked for comments and advice about it, at various forums I use. The response was surprisingly positive, here are some of the nicer quotes;
"quite cool and watchable".
"A very interesting video. Fantastic imagery. Amazing colours. Great music matches the whole short film very well. I like the time lapse style.
Thankyou. A success. Well Done!"
"I enjoyed that. The sculpture lapse particularly stood out along with the roos, but nicely balanced by shots of rustling trees and big big skies."
"Really enjoyed it . Our lass spent a lot of time running feral round these parts when she was little . I will show it her later .
See if it makes her home sick ." "Looking forward to seeing future versions" "nice one, lookin' forward to the next one"
RiotAct "All that said, lovely shots – just need to spend a lot more time collecting frames."
"Very cool, Mr Dover. Very cool."
"Beautiful locations. Is this in WA? I'd make the trip out just to do something like that."
But the nice thing was that the technical minded guys at these forums gave me advice on how to speed up the frame rate, and how to edit it better. So I re-edited it, and got even more good reviews! (Ok, I changed the music too, as a lot of people wanted more “ambient” stuff. Not that I was complaining, I like ambient.) Here's the second version.This one has a lot more shots of yours truly and the dogs, in it.
Having got such a positive result I was thinking of doing a few more time lapses, but realized that the amount of shooting required, (a two-minute movie at 15 frames per second, needs 1,800 frames,) would soon knacker my nice new camera. Then I had a brainwave, I still have my old Canon 450D body. Bethy was supposed to have this, but hasn’t used it since I gave it to her, so why not make use of it?
So I’m all set to bore you further with more time-lapses. But, remember I said I ordered a new intervalometer? Guess what? The Canon 5D and 450D have different trigger sockets. I need to buy yet another bloody new intervalomter.
I was reading the blog of the guy, Alex Nail, whose “Dartmoor Photography Workshop” I’m hoping to do when we're back in Blighty. He was telling of the forthcoming “supermoon” Good enough for him, good enough for me. This saw me freezing my bollocks off atop Mt Painter for three nights running. Despite his best advice, somehow the best shots I got are the ones without the bloody moon in them. Stuff my luck.
While we're on the subject of things artistic; as planned, we went and saw the “Turner from the Tate” exhibition, boy was it good or what?
I’m not even going to try to begin to explain how wonderful his landscapes are, nor how gobsmacking it was to get close enough to touch, (not that we did touch, ) some of his major works. Let’s just say that one week later we went back again, it was that good. I’m seriously thinking of going back again before it ends, possibly more than once. With this exhibition costing $25 a go you can probably see how good I thought it was, what with me being a cheapskate. The second time we went we hired an “audio-tour”. Well worth it, to have someone who knows what they are talking about tell you all about his life, times, and why he did what he did, and how he did what he did, was really quite wonderful. One of his major works looks like a classic scene from the Greek …ermmmm…classics, the story of Dido and Aeneas .
However the audio tour thingy tells us that it was actually painted from a view of the Thames at Richmond! Or how about this below, a fairly good, if unremarkable image of Oxford. Except he painted it when he was only 13 yrs old, and it won him entry to the Royal Academy.
Think what the lad could have pulled off if he had a Canon 5D and photoshop! He’d have been almost as good as me.
The next event we are seeing is Paul Kelly live. 
I was introduced to his stuff by Lee-Anne while we were courting, and soon grew to love it. It's going to be a real treat to see him live. Bethy’s also a fan, I didn’t know this. So when I told her I'd got tickets for me and Lee-Anne she was most upset, I rushed to the net to order two more. Luckily I was in time to get the seats next to ours, so we’ll have a good night of it.
I was on a training course the other day, not a bad one for a change. The powers that be, in their wisdom, have decided that, seeing as nurses have to do 19 hours of professional development a year to keep up their registration, our lot should do…32 hours…Why so much more? Fuctifino, it’s just one of those things. Me, being a bit tardy by nature, or a lazy bastard to be more accurate, had fallen a bit (way) behind. So I’ve been doing courses and training like all get out to try to get up to date. Most of this training I’ve been doing as “E-learning”, as this means I just look at shite on the net, (while at work, natch,) and answer questions at the end, to earn certificates and hours of study. (Google comes in VERY handy when doing this.)
But so many of my hours have to be proper training, so I was doing a course on HONOS, and finding out my team had been using it badly to say the least. This training was in the city centre, so I had arranged with Lee-Anne to meet for lunch. She took me to a place she uses when she’s feeling peckish, this one "Burmese Curry Place".
By buggery it was good! A choice of two curries, with rice, eat in, $8.00 a head, can’t beat it! I did wonder how they managed to make a profit seeing as it’s a city centre location, and not in a cheap area of the city, so I didn’t look too closely at what was in my curry.
One day Bethy texted her boyfriend Brandon, the text read; "I'm in maternity!!" Is it any wonder the poor lad crapped himself? “You’re pregnant?” “No you daft sod, I’m delivering the meals there, it’s lovely, full of babies and pregnant women.”
Yes, Bethy's job continues to go well. She’s obviously established a good reputation for herself as they have phoned her a couple of times on her day off, to ask her to go in and cover. She’s also been given extra training so she can cover the private wards there too, this involves curtsying I expect. One little life experience she got there was when she was delivering meals to one of the the wards we use for my clients. It’s a the low security mental health ward which cares for the less demanding/distressed/dangerous clients Thank goodnes for that, I wouldn't want her delivering meals to the HDU where all the real headbangers are. But Bethy was delivering meals there, and walked slap bang into an old friend of hers from school, who is a client there. Sobering event for a kid that; “there but for the….”.
Remember Bethy’s car Arthur? Here’s a pencil sketch I did of them.
Well recently Bethy’s let me drive it, and, I have to say it’s bloody fab.
As Arthur is 30 years old, It’s a real nostalgia trip. I told Bethy I would be buying a Trilby and a pipe to wear when I take it out, but she says’ I’m not allowed to. I will in any case. There is something just wonderful about the experience, no power steering, no power for that matter, the bloody car handles like a boat. It has a cassette player, (it doesn't work though,) and the aircon is “wind down the windows”. No central locking, no airbags, no diesel cap lock, no electric wing mirrors, no electric anything. The car has a constant aroma of unspent fuel. I love it!!
However, I took it in for a service the other day, and being a thirty year old car, it proved not to be fun as I'm sure you can imagine. Basically it needed new front brakes, new rear brake cylinder seals, and a leak in the engine is screwing up the timing belt. I asked the guy for a quote for the work, he sucked his teeth and spent 15 minutes tapping away at a calculator; then looked at me and said; “About a grand”, I winced. Then he said; “plus labour”, then he said; “the car is worth about $400.” Shit!
I explained the car is Bethy’s pride and joy, and she’d want to keep it on the road. He told me there is a local Gemini user group, and they have a forum, so they may be able to help. I joined up, they were able to help, mainly as the guy from the garage is also the forum owner, and he was more than keen to help out. "Taff, Bethany has my phone number give me a call and I'll give you a hand. Obviously I couldn’t say this to you today at work due to that kind of thing being frowned on by management," he posted I wonder why he’s so keen?
Upshot of it is, Brandon’s father is a bit of a keen car enthusiast, and has already done the brakes and rear cylinders for her, (she paid for the parts.) I offered to do these jobs, but Bethy declined my offer, for the life of me I know not why. Mike from the garage is getting us a timing belt kit cheap.
While we’re on the subject of car matters I was walking to collect my car the other night. I’m a cheapskate, I’ll happily do 15 minute walk to and from work, and park for free, than use the office car park and pay $7.50 a day. As it was late evening it was dark. Walking down the road where I park I noticed a car reverse out of one house, it’s a busy road, so he sort of shot out. Shot out straight into the car parked on the other side of the road in fact. Luckily not my car, or blood would have been shed. He gave it a hell of a smash. I went over checked he was alright, then hung about to ensure he left his details.
He didn’t look like he was going anywhere, as his rear end was smashed, and he was stunned. He left a note on the car, as did I with my details. The next day I got a call from a woman; “Thanks for leaving your name and phone number as a witness. The other guy left a number, but it’s disconnected.” I gave her his details. The next day I was collecting my car, when I saw her getting into hers. There was no mistaking her car, the drivers door was well caved in. I stopped her and introduced myself. I then point out the house the other guy had came out of, and his car which was sat there. She stormed off, going to rip him a new one by the look of it. I awaited the fireworks, but she didn’t get an answer. I’ve not heard anything since.
Driving to visit a client the other day, I stopped while the car in front of me turned to park. Seconds later there was a smack, and a learner motorcyclist bounced off my rear end. Silly bugger needs to learn to pay attention. No damage to my works car, he lost an indicator. We shook hands and called it quits.
Then, driving to collect Bethy from a basketball match, some kid opened his dad’s car door when I was passing. The kid was ever so upset, and as the only damage was a smashed wing mirror, I played the gent and said; “No worries son, I’ll look after that". I nearly had a bloody heart attack when the garage we use told me it would cost $350 to fix, as they would have to replace the whole unit. I told them to stick it. I did a bit of online research, which led to me doing this perfect life-sized drawing of the unit, for cutting purposes.
I was going to pay $65 to buy a new mirror online, when a guy at the gym told me the glazier shop just up the road would cut one cheaper. As this was actualy the place we'd recently used to repair our windows, I was kicking myself for not remembering them. Typical, I waste days and hours of effort trying to get a bargain, and there’s one sat under my nose. So I took the backing plate in to the shop, and the young lad said he’d get one cut by tomorrow, $40.
I went back the next day, he’d done a great job, he looked ever so pleased. He’d also kindly stuck it to the backing plate with glass person’s glue. The twat. The backing plate has to be screwed onto the mount, how was I to do that with the mirror stuck on it? He looked ever so sheepish when I told him this. Luckily his boss got it of without breaking the mirror, or the plate for that matter.
As you may know I have a habit, when pissed on a Sunday night, of phoning random mates in the UK and abusing them. It’s a fun way to spend a Sunday, and it keeps me amused, if not them. Totally shifaced a couple of weeks back I phoned my oldest mate Jamesy. There was no reply so I left an abusive message. Now, as I say, Jamesy is my oldest and best mate. We’ve known each other since we were toddlers, and have stayed in touch throughout my roaming. Jamesy is the nicest guy you could ever meet, a true gentleman. But he’s starting to get on my tits to be honest. When your alleged best mate sends you an email, with this reply;
Got your message, we were not in bed, we were in Mexico. Got back Monday. Fantastic two weeks, went out about twenty miles from shore to dive with Whale Sharks in open waterJ What an experience, ticked my bucket list. There were about eight of them feeding on Plankton, they must have been about 40 to 45 foot long. Hope you are all well, October will be here before you know it ! Speak to you soon.
You start wondering…Have a think now Jamesy is there a fucking country on the planet you may have forgotten to visit Jamesy? You’ve been, as far as I can tell to each and every place on the face of the frigging earth!
Apart that is from one that is, the one your oldest and best mate has lived in for the last 13 years! I could take offense. I know, I know, I know, you want to save up enough leave to do Australia properly, to have a massive blow out while here, to spend a great deal of time seeing as much of the land down under as you possibly can. Just do it before I die eh? Oh, and not only that, but I’m really, really, jealous of your swimming with whale sharks, it’s almost worth me learning to swim in order to do that.
Mary continues to provide us with “entertainment”.
The other day she was driving me to pick up my motor from the garage. We were driving in thick fog, really thick fog. I pointed out to Mary how many silly buggers were driving without their headlights on, Canberra drivers are crap. I only mentioned this as I noticed that, for once, she had her headlights on. “Yes,” she said, "they must be mad." Then she put on a pair of sunglasses. I didn’t ask, I get enough headaches as it is.
I got revenge though! Remember I was telling you about her diet obsession? I went round there to pick her dog, “Meech” up the other day. "Meech hasn't eaten again," said Mary whistfully, "Maybe she's been reading too many diet books," I replied, running away.
Lee-Anne mailed me this little doozy for our giggles;
I’ve just been out walking the dogs with mum. Meech stumbled down an embankment and licked her paw at the bottom of it. She then trotted away. Mum spent about 30 seconds calling after her; "Are you aright Meech? Are you OK? Is your paw sore?" I told her, "She's walking fine. What are you expecting? For her to answer you?"
Down at the lake the other day, another dog walker who I was passing the time with asked; “Why’s your dog called “meat?””
Remember the puppies first walk? Where they met Henry?
Henry is a huge, but good natured Great Dane, one of the handsomest dogs I’ve ever met. He’s such an attractive dog that he tends to draw a crowd down at the lake where he gets walked. He’s so popular that when his owners decided to move to Melbourne, taking him with them of course, they decided to throw a party for him at the lake. As our two pups are big fans of his, and we’re now friendly with his owners (who are Poms,) Lee-Anne made a point of going, I couldn’t go as I was at work.
A great morning, Henry's owners laid on cakes and pastries, and people brought thermos’s of tea and coffee. A big crowd of dogs there. It all seemed to go great guns for everyone. Everyone apart from one mad old bat who spent the morning screeching; “Meech! Meech! Meech! Meech!" every five seconds. Lee-Anne was so embarrassed, but refused to leave.
The Digby ritual; when we first got the pups we had to separate them at feeding time, as Ginger (aka "Spud",) would wolf down both their meals before Digby had a chance to eat. This involved lifting Digby into a playpen, and putting his meal in with him. As they are now older we took the playpen away. Digby gets quite upset though if you serve him his meal, without first lifting him into a (now imaginary) playpen. It’s known as the “Digby Ritual”, after the famous ACD story.
Oh, and as Ginger spends all evening lying on the gas heater vents we then call him “baked Spud.” It doesn't take much to amuse us, does it?
Spare a thought, if you would for poor little Millie. She has a chest infection and is on anti-biotics.
Overnight she went from this;
To this;
I went and saw the Lions play our local side the Brumbies. Naturally, for a big event like this, I had to dress up. Seeing as I was going to the match with some lads from work, I thought I’d pull out all the stops. I told them this, they weren’t overjoyed.
“Lads from work” aren’t really “lads from work” any more are they? For a start, calling us ancient buggers “lads” is stretching things a bit. So who was I going with? Well there was Lewis, my nurse mate, who I used to hit the climbing wall with, David who is some sort of senior manager in mental health, and Ben.
Ben’s a shrink, or, more formally, a consultant psychiatrist. “You know what they think it’s all about don’t you? S-E-X. He gets paid for sticking his nose…No, I'm going to have my say.. into people's private.. um.. details. Well, just speaking for myself, I don't want a total stranger nosing about in my private parts. Details!*”
Ben’s also a Scot, we don’t hold that against him either. He doesn’t sound Scottish much, not like I sound (beautifully) Welsh, but there again they’re “not all Rob Roy.* When I told them I was coming in full battledress, Ben had suggested I “wore my daffodil costume”. I was going to make a remark about certain aspects of thistles in reply to that, but thought better of it. I didn’t fancy getting a fortnight in the AMHU in revenge.
So Lee-Anne dropped me at the bus station, free busses to the match for big events, and luckily I got to the ground without being beaten up. Loads or Lions supporters there, I was amazed how many had made it over. I saw two guys dressed as Lions, not in the rugby kit, but in Lion outfits, they looked like they’d been to Canberra zoo with a skinning knife. I grabbed some beers and found the guys, to be fair to them they didn’t run away.
We were in the rear row of the stands, a great view, with the bonus of a TV screen just overhead for details.
(Rugby/pissed old blokes photos courtesy of Ben.)
On the concourse behind us was a group of disabled lads parked in wheelchairs. It’s not my fault they were looking my way when I climbed over the barrier to my seat. Anyone would think they’d never seen a man in a kilt before. Or those parts of a man in a kilt anyway. Ben thought he was going to be issuing scripts for tranks like confetti for a while there. The lads looked away each time I made a move to get out from then on.
Bloody good game, and I have to say the Brumbies deserved their win.
The beers flowed freely, and I must say it was great to be out with a group of men, something I’ve not really done much (any?) of since I’ve been out here. We all enjoyed it so much that we’re thinking of excuses we can give our better halves in order to arrange more of them.
*Ok, who can name me the two programs I’ve shamelessly ripped off for quotes there?
Our holiday plans are still developing. The bloody $Au has been up and down like whores drawers of late. Luckily in January we bought a travel card and stuck $5000 on it. They fix the rate at the time you buy it, it was $1 = 66 p back then, so seeing as it’s $1 = 60 p now, we’ve saved a mint. Other developments are that Charlie has confirmed we can crash at his place after we’ve stay in Llanelli, and Clarkie’s wife Catherine has confirmed we can stay with her in Ireland; “Whether that daft sod, (i.e. Clarkie,) is here or not.”
Oh, one day at work, idly buggering about on the net awaiting a call out, I cast my mind back to Llanelli and my days of yore there. I remembered the ancient manor house behind the grammar school I attended, (and attended is just about all I did there, I learned bugger all,) and wondered what had become of it. It's called Stradey castle. I looked about on the net, it’s still a stately home, and they rent it out for filming and banquets and weddings and stuff.
Then I noticed they did tours, I’m game for that! I wrote to them asking if they would be open in October when we are there. I got a nice e-mail back from “Claire” saying that, no they were not open, but they did private tours for small group parties, and if I wanted to book one then we could be able to come to some agreement. Ok then, do me a deal. We swapped e-mails and for 50 quid I’ve got them to open up the place and give us the guided tour. It’s normally a ton for the private tour, but we’re having one cheap, (but with no refreshments laid on, suits me.) I mailed me local mates in Llanelli, see if any of them wanted to join us, Wynn and co said yes, so we’re going to have a jolly. Oh and Claire turns out to be Ms Claire Mansell-Davies, who is as close to being the squire of Llanelli as you can get.
Ok, so here's a guilty pleasure for me. Please don’t think I’m being a snob here, or looking down at my old home town. (In Llanelli, being a "snob” or “looking down at people” or “thinking you’re better than us” is THE greatest crime imaginable.) I’m a Llanelli boy at heart, and have a love for the town and the people. I also have a Llanelli sens of humour so I know that this amusement will be shared by others.
Some (most?) of you wont get this, as you need to be able to read the next bits in a strong Llanelli accent. The other day I was browsing Tripadvisor, I thought I'd have a look at what is recommended in Llanelli. To start with the “highest rated restaurant" is a little cafe at the back of Llanelli market. This looks interesting I thought. So I pushed on through the reviews. After five minutes I was laughing so hard I had to e-mail Lee-Anne and Bethy with links. They got it, as will most of my Welsh mates, the rest of you may not want to bother though. Here we go, some choice Llanelli restaurant reviews, (eat your heart out Marco Pierre White!) ;
Greenfield Inn; Went to the Greenfield saturday to watch the Wales v France Game , great atmosphere full house we had free curry and chips half time delicious . Wife and I had a meal later excellent steak cooked to perfection. Showtime at 9.30 with local act Jay Miller oustanding . We really had a great night there and would recommend to every one , local pub great atmosphere and entertainment. Also wentback today for Sunday lunch the meal was suberb and it was very busy there.
Thomas Arms: Lovely hotel with really modern deco. I have visited for drinks many times as it's in the town centre so location is ideal. Haven't eaten here in a while but the food was nice. My Nan and Mother in Law have Christmas Lunch here every year with friends.
Half Moon: If youre looking for a high quality restaurant type of night out then maybe this isnt the place im afraid. If on the other hand you just want a basic no frills dinner then go.
I am a fussy eater & at the half moon thay have got something 4 every 1 the staff are lovely & helpful (ie with children ) & that is really important 4 me 1s time here was Xmas dinner I have been 2 a lot of places 4 xmas dinner never been back but I will be there on Xmas day this year & the evening meal we had there was excellent all 12 of us had a lovely evening hats of 2 u all at the half moon
Tafarn Y Phoenix; Ideal place to stop for an evening meal if you are in the area. Full of friendly locals. Food is typical pub fare with ham, egg and chips being my favourite.
KFC: (!?!?) Lovely Chips And Pop Corn Chicken I Love It But The Watered Down Drinks And Staff Are Disappointing….
Halfway Inn: don't go by the what some people are writing about the place the staff are very friendly and the food is exallant , so I don't now what pub your on about robertbrown50 its not the halfway I was in. plus theres plenty of room outside for the children to play with slides ,swings and a pool table
A warm welcome is given by Paul and his staff, every time you visit, for just a drink, or fantastic, value for money meal. With home cooked Sunday lunches a must for the visitor, or an extensive evening menu, that will surprise even the most pickiest of people. My wife and I are regulars at the Halfway, and can only say that you have tried the rest, now try the best value for money meal in Llanelli
Okay, but their is room for improvement. I ordered the buger and it comes on a chopping board and you have to build it..
Had A very nice steak and chips, Very friendly manager and staff.Good sized car park and very close to Trostre Park for shopping!
Pemberton Arms: Just been to the pemberton beefeater in llanelli and it just gets better every time we go,starters we had mushrooms cooked to perfection,main meal gammon with chips,peas and i got to say the gammon was the best i have ever ever tasted its was cooked on a charcoal grill(stunning) cant wait to go back in the future
Have normally had good experience in Beefeater chains but went here for my Husband's 60th Birthday whilst in area on holiday and we were very dissapointed,the Steak was cooked as we asked but turned out to be very gristly the mushrooms on my Hubby's meal were raw & the side salad looked as if it had been sat out all day on the hot plate! we would have complained at time but Hubby was so dissapointed he just wanted to leave Would not go back again if in the area.
Lots more here if you fancy reading them. Oh, nearly forgot, the important bit. Canberra's weather remains cold, with the first snows of the skiing season having been seen on the Brindabella Mountains which ring the city.
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