Visiting the plant nursery

  
 The garden needs sprucing up. It’s very boring. When I suggested planting to the landlord when we collected the keys he was delighted someone was going to make his garden pretty. He is envious of garden near the admin building- it’s full of flowers.

There are no garden centres to speak of here. Garden furniture is sold in furniture shops at astronomical prices – really – £700 for two plastic chairs and a coffee table! I laughed out loud and told them it would be a fraction of the price in the UK. The salesman looked at me bewildered. Anyway, I digress.

Lots of things can be bought at the roadside here, including plants. The range and diversity is however somewhat limited. Naraya (our temp driver -for the last 2 months!) took me to a local roadside chap to buy plants for a border at the front of the garden. He had a reasonable sized stock but limited range. I bought about six rose bushes, 3 taller purple plants, a chilli plant and a herb. Yes, you will no doubt have realised that I have no idea what some of these are but as they look and smell nice and are not poisonous, who cares.

It was at this point that Naraya stepped in and started negotiating the price. Naraya was clearly convinced I was being substantially over charged and had a long discussion were “Madam” was mentioned. They eventually, and somewhat reluctantly in Naraya’s case, agreed on a price of INR 1050 (£10.50). I had to contain my astonishment, I couldn’t believe it was so cheap. I quickly paid whilst they loaded up the car.

When we returned to the house Saroja (our new housekeeper) was waiting for us. She and Naraya had a quick discussion. As Saroja speaks English she was able to translate saying that Naraya thought I was still overcharged and he wanted to take me to a proper and cheaper nursery another day, and explained where it was. Quite a trek and near the airport – but everywhere is a trek here so it was just in a different direction.

  
Yesterday we set off. It was quite a trek. Past Zahra’s school and into the countryside, off roading down muddy tracks, truly in the middle of farm land to a 6 foot tall blue gate. We drove in. I’m looking for something resembling a uk nursery (not a garden centre obviously) but what I got was like a flipping plantation! It was massive. Where do you start when something is so huge? There is also a risk of getting lost it was so vast. The size and scale of some of the plants they were growing and selling was something else too. It was wonderful to walk around. We looked at three main sections and didn’t look at the tree stock at all. 

 

I was being directed towards the larger plants but I knew what I wanted. Every time I asked about price Naraya would step in and have a long discussion and a price would eventually be agreed upon. I merely stood and watched until a final price was agreed. I chose plants from two sections, roses from one and a selection of orchids, gerberas, ornamental strawberries  and geraniums from the other. The latter section proved interesting to buy from. There was clearly some reluctance and I kept being told the plants were too small. Eventually Naraya and my determination paid off and we purchased the plants. It transpired they were being grown for the Lalbagh Botanical Gardens so I was purchasing some of their stock!

  
The total cost for 32 plants came to INR 2,100 (£21). It was indeed cheaper than the local guy and the choice was vast. They loaded up the car and headed off. There’s a lot of planting to be done by our new gardener.

 

The kindness of strangers

  
This last week has been spent mostly unpacking boxes and sorting the house into a livable space. I’ve managed it with the help of the lovely Saroja (our new housekeeper) and only have about 3 or 4 boxes left to unpack. The house is looking more like a home.

It’s been a tough week though. Rez has had a cold all last week and has been coughing, sneezing and restless in the night which meant I wasn’t sleeping properly either. I finally succombed and came down with a cold on Thursday evening. I am so glad I stocked up on cold and flu capsules before we came out – we’ve really needed them.

 It’s rained everyday and as a consequence the power has been off for hours everyday. In practical terms that means no hot water for showers, the fridge and freezer contents quickly spoil, the washing machine sits soaking clothes for hours and the dishwasher leaves residue on the pots. The water filter doesn’t work so there is no water to cook with (unless you had a handy supply of bottled water in) and of course the oven, microwave, slow cooker are all out of action. It is incredibly frustrating.

I can’t begin to describe how difficult daily life is here. As well as the disruptive power cuts there is the daily chore of trying to find stuff and work out how things are done here. Supermarkets do not stock meat, cheese or alcohol so separate trips have to be made to different places in town to make a meal for the evening. The traffic is horrendous so it takes hours. A weekly shop is impossible as food only lasts a few days and less if the power is off.

Cooked ham is only available in one butcher in town or a shop that imports western food. It is incredibly expensive averaging £5 per 200g. Bacon is the same but only American style bacon is available. For the non veg people the choice is usually chicken or lamb / mutton. Cheese is only available in western stores and is imported. 200g of Manchego cost £10 and 200g of goats cheese cost around £5. After a day spent buying ingredients I have had to abandon cooking dinner some nights as the power has been off for hours. It is thoroughly disheartening and time wasting. 

We are still battling to open a bank account – we have PIN numbers but no cards. We have to re register with the Foreigners Registration Office now we have moved from the apartment to the house. We still have UK tax forms and electoral register forms to complete – which have still not been sent to us and so far we have been unable to download here. (We have discovered that some web content is simply blocked or unavailable in India). I have to find a local post office or one that isn’t at least an hours drive away anyway. Zahra has written some letters to friends and I haven’t managed to post them yet. 

Zahra has settled in really well at school but a local boy in the housing complex keeps stealing  her ball when she’s out playing so now I have to supervise so he doesn’t pick on her.  She is the only girl on our street who plays outside.

After several days of unpacking and massive power cuts I finally succumbed to the stress of the move to India and burst into tears at a parent workshop at school last week.

The kindness of the other expats was overwhelming as they all said they had done the same at some point and it was part of the process. I abandoned my plans for the day (mainly as traffic was more horrendous than usual – due to the rain everyone on scooters had got into cars and caused gridlock) and headed home. 

I spent the day reading the pack of papers for a UK meeting – over 150 pages in the end- and writing a long email to them on my thoughts in case the power went during the Skype call. I then spent 3.5 hours on Skype in the meeting, becoming visibly more ill as the call progressed. I now have a stinking cold. (Rez has had one all week). I need to rest but there is too much to do.

Everything is different and difficult- we have an electricity bill (what a joke) which looks like a till receipt and we have no idea how to pay it for example – it will take me some research with language communication barriers to find out how to. 

As daily life is so hard and women here are effectively ignored as an irrelevance (it’s truly shocking)- I have thought about getting in a plane back on more than one occasion believe me. I long for a decent Costa and a glass of wine.

But you know, the kindness of strangers continued. I received text messages from school parents asking how I was feeling that evening. I had other parents inviting me round for coffee (and a cry). Others still sent me contact details of parents in our neighbourhood who were more than happy to help. Others texted me details of shops and services I needed. I felt surrounded by a support group I didn’t know I had or even that it existed. 

Most ex pats here have lived and worked abroad before. All without exception have said that Bangalore is THE most difficult and different place to live. The sympathies and help that follow from this being our ‘first’ posting abroad is most welcome and helpful. It doesn’t necessarily make life easier but it does help knowing that I’m not over reacting or losing the plot because I am finding daily life so difficult – everyone here has been through the same at some point.

The kindness of strangers – what a wonderful thing.

Goa’s Narkasur

  
Narkasur is the demon king. In Goa huge effigies of him are built and filled with grass, waste paper and fireworks. The effigy of Narkasur is taken in a procession and then burnt in the early hours of Diwali morning. Some of these are huge and local competitions are held with prizes for the best one. It puts the UK’s Guy Fawkes for Bonfire Night to shame! At lot of time and effort (and money) has gone into some of these. We were ‘highway robbed’ by some children who put a ribbon across the road and stopped the car asking for donations for their effigy. They were ever so polite and said thank you for our ‘donation’.

  
So what is it all about? According to legend, Goa was ruled by the demon king Narkasur who had obtained lots of powers which made him arrogant (no parallels with today’s society at all!). He began to spread terror, cause destruction and torture people wherever he went. He also used to kidnap young beautiful girls – which caused obvious distress and unhappiness. 

  
The people of Goa prayed and the gods asked lord Krishna for help. A great battle was fought between Narkasur and lord Krishna in which Krishna shot his’Sudharshan Chakra’ and cut off the evil head of Narkasur and slit his tongue (nice!). The evil demonwho ruled Goa was killed in the early hours of the morning and Krishna smeared the demon’s blood on his forehead as a symbol of victory.

  
To wash away the blood Krishna was bathed and massaged with scented oils. The young girls held captive were released and they lit lamps in their houses to mark the end of darkness and the beginning of light in Goa. There is now a custom of early morning bathing with oil and lighting of lamps as a reminder that good can defeat evil.

  
Note: all these photos were taken from a moving car hence why the quality isn’t great but it does give you a flavour of the effigies.

Diwali Rangoli

Diwali (or Deepawali or Deepavali) is the Festival of Lights. It’s an ancient Hindu festival that’s celebrated in Autumn every year (usually around Guy Fawkes Night in the UK). The festival signifies that people who follow a good paths don’t resort to injustice always win over evil forces. The lighting of candles, lanterns or diyas is also significant. Light refers to knowledge, wisdom and prosperity. Darkness refers to ignorance and evil forces. Lighting of candles (diyas) during the Diwali festival signifies the prevalence of knowledge and wisdom over ignorance.

An important part of Diwali celebrations is Rangoli; an Indian tradition folk art which is generally created on the floor on some festive occasions (marriages, birth ceremonies and other festivals). Rangoli is a Sanskrit word signifying a creative expression of art by means of colours. Beautiful Rangoli patterns and designs are made at the entrance to a home to welcome guests. During Diwali, Rangoli are also made to welcome the goddess Laxmi (goddess of wealth and fortune). People make various types of geometrical patterns and designs and place an oil stand (diyas) in the middle. Whilst there is no limit on the size of a Rangoli they are usually the size of a doormat.

To make a Rangoli the floor must be clean and tidy and use vibrant colours. The colour is made from rice flour, rice paste, pulses and leaves. Rice is a symbol of prosperity. The colour is held between the thumb and forefinger and it runs through the gap created. (Engineers are fascinated by the even delivery of the colour!). The designs are always hand made carved by fingers. Single lines are usually drawn with a single finger, like a pencil. The predominant colour is white as this is a symbol of peace, purity and tranquility. Turmeric yellow is often used to colour in the outline as yellow is also a symbol of prosperity. Vermilion is used as it is considered auspicious and peas are sometimes used as well.

The variety of design and pattern of the Rangoli is purely down to the skill and artistic nature of the person making it. A pattern outline is made using dots which are then joined together to make a pattern or design. Once the pattern is made then the colours are filled in.

Diwali is one of the times that Rangolis complete the preparations to welcome guests to celebrate.

Update (Rez)… Rangoli also encompasses flower petals as seen in this stunning example in the lobby of the Marriott hotel, Goa

   
   

Goa (part 2) – a day exploring with Vimal

9am we bundled ourselves into the Innova and the driver we had hired for the day set off into Old Goa to meet Vimal for a day exploring. 

  
We met Vimal at the Basilica of Bom Jesus which is one of the most famous churches in Old Goa. It’s bigger than it looks from the outside, which was partially obscured by the scaffolding being erected for seating for the upcoming festival. The church was built by the Portguese between 1594 and 1605 and in 1946 it became the first church in India to be elevated to the status of a minor basilica. It’s three storeys high and built from the black laterite stone, which also makes up the courtyard entrance.

  
Inside is simple and beautiful. There are some amazing carvings which focus your attention, particularly the alter.

  
The relics of St Francis Xavier are kept in a crystal and silver casket in a tomb in a chapel at the south of the church. The chapel is decorated with pictures depicting the life and miracles of the Saint. The original casket was wooden with three locks. This was removed and the lid opened every year at the festival of the Saint and people from all over Goa would come to touch the saints relics. Now the Silver and  crystal casket is sealed and the relics can be seen through the side of the crystal casket.

We wandered through the corridors at the back of the church and out across the road to the Se Cathedral. 

  
The Se Cathedral or St Catherine’s Cathedral is larger than any church in Portugal yet is empty. Clearly a lack of funds to maintain the cathedral has affected it. We headed next door to the interesting Archeological Society of India Museum displaying artefacts.

After everyone (except me) had a cooling off with a Baskin Robbins ice cream we headed over to the Church of Saint Augustine ruins.

  
The church was built between 1572 and 1602. It was destroyed following the ban on religious orders (Jesuits) passed by the Portuguese government in 1759. 

It was getting hot (35C) so it was a welcome relief to get back into the air conditioned Innova to head over to the Ancestral Goa Museum and ‘Big Foot’ exhibition. The first part is being guided around an ancestral home of a wealthy family. There is a pre recorded commentary and guide pointing out the exhibits being described.

The second part is an outdoor model village which showcases traditional occupations and social classes. There is an automated commentary as you walk around explaining about the lives of fishermen, farmers, the village market, distillery, hairdresser etc.

  
Also here is the ‘Big Foot’ exhibition where a shape of a foot of a pious man called Mahadar was found embedded in a rock. Mahadar gave away all his possessions to the poor and needy and was left with nothing after his wife died. God took pity on him and asked what Mahadar wanted – he asked for a rock to pray on. Mahadar stood on one foot and prayed night and day until he was taken to heaven. Now the rock with the embedded footprint is on display here. Legend has it that if you place your right hand on the rock, make a wish and if you are of pure of heart and don’t tell anyone your wish may be granted. Zahra had a go and was bursting to tell me what she wished for – my heart broke a little bit more when she said she wished Yasmin would be found.

  
Rez made a wish too. 

We were all getting hungry by now so headed off to find a local restaurant. Vimal asked our driver to recommend somewhere. We pulled up outside a roadside restaurant called Anna Maria that looked so unlikely. Vimal sensed our hesitancy and suggested we take a look inside and then decide. We wandered in and it did look a little ramshackle but the chalk board menu looked good so we decided to give it a try.

  
Zahra and I ordered Goan prawns, Rez and Vimal ordered the local Kingfish. Oh my gosh it was the best prawn dish I have tasted – truly delicious. Rez and Vimal like the Kingfish too. They all came with a salad and Zahra had some rice. Three large bottle of Kingfisher beer later and we were suitably refreshed to head off. The entire bill came to £13 – an absolute bargain.

We headed off to the most haunted church in Goa called the Three Kings church.

  
The church was locked so we had a look around the outside. Those of you who know Rez will understand his unadulterated joy when a MiG-29k flew overhead.

It was time for the beach. Zahra had been so good all day but she was super excited at the prospect of heading to the beach. We headed over to Majorda beach.

  
Majorda beach is in the Salcete taluka in the south of Goa. It’s a beautiful beach with palm groves and lots and lots of star fish. The local children were collecting them in large piles to take home! The sea water was lovely and warm – again like bath water- with large waves crashing to the shore. It was fun and invigorating. We had a good swim whilst Rez remained on the beach taking even more photos of the MiG29s flying overhead. 

As dusk fell it was time to head back to the hotel. It was a lovely relaxing day out exploring Goa with Vimal who is a very knowledgable guide.

Goa – India’s oasis of tranquility – part 1

Oh Goa….*breathes* *sighs* ….and relax.

Arriving at the Marriott Hotel and Spa right on the sea front was wonderful. The open reception looked directly onto the sea, the warm sea breeze gently brushing our hot sticky skin was welcome relief. I took a deep breath of the sea air. My lungs filled with the freshest air for well over a month – it was welcome and needed. I could immediately sense myself relaxing after what can only be described as a very stressful  move to Bangalore at the end of September. 

We were welcomed with a cold Kingfisher beer (lemonade for Zahra) and we sat looking at the sea whilst the welcome team got us checked in and briefed us on the facilities. They hurried around us whilst we relaxed with a beer. We were escorted to our sea view room – and what a seaview – right on the beach front – a fantastic view to wake up to each morning.

  
Oh my gosh this place is wonderful. Zahra was super excited – the beach and a pool to enjoy – but which to enjoy first? After what seemed like tortuous minutes she decided on the pool first. Within half an hour of arriving we were in our swimmies poolside with a bag of pool toys. She was ecstatic. 

  
After enjoying a destressing and relaxing afternoon in the pool and as darkness fell (5:30pm  -6pm) we dragged Zahra out of the pool.

Dinner was at the fish restaurant sat outside between the pool and the sea. No menu, a permanent board lists the fish that may be available, the sauces it can be cooked in and the accompaniment vegetables. Price was by uncooked weight and the fish available from the catch of the day. We all chose something different and each dish was delicious. Zahra fell asleep in her chair after dinner. Rez and I sat and enjoyed the sound of the waves lapping against the shore and the warm night air, broken only by the sound of banging tunes ringing out from the passing party boats!

  
Zahra woke early on Sunday morning and we headed down for breakfast. (We are such cruel parents making her eat breakfast before going to the pool!). The morning was spent lounging by the pool before heading out to Bay15 for Sunday Brunch* with the lovely Vimal. Vimal lives in Goa and was introduced to us by my brother Ade. Ade met Vimal 9 years ago when he trekked the Himalayas in aid of the National Austistic Society. Vimal was the local guide and helped them complete the trek as well as guiding them through it.

  

  
Vimal is an amazing person. He has met so many people and knows so many more. He has trekked and cycled the Himalyas week after week and month after month with groups of celebrities and ordinary folk for 7 years. He ‘retired’ from it a few years ago and moved to Goa to set up a new business. He’s a very interesting and informative person who puts you at ease as soon as you meet him – what a wonderful gift. We chatted for hours over a leisurely lunch before heading onto the beach to explore with Zahra. 

  
A shore full of seashells and rocks to explore is a child’s paradise and Vimal encouraged her in her inquisitive nature and helped her gather a huge collection of shells.

  
We headed back to the hotel for another dip in the pool before dinner, having arranged to meet the next day to explore Goa with Vimal.

To be continued…

*Bay 15 is a small hotel and restaurant by the beach. Sunday Brunch is a bit of a thing to do here. 

This Blog is brought to you by the letters R, E and Z

Today I am your guest blogger, hope it’s up to Deb’s usual high standards! 😃
It’s Diwali next week and this is a BIG deal in India… Think of it like Christmas and you’ll be close. As a result Zahra’s school has a week break… Effectively a half term holiday and what better time to book a family holiday! 
Hmm, where shall we go? We could have a ‘Staycation’ but you know what… Gosh darn it, we’re in India, let’s go to Goa!!
After a little aggro getting the flight and hotel booked (Deb has a different take on how much aggro she had to book the trip!😂) we eventually arrive at the airport on the allotted day and being the considerate type Deb has booked us an Air Asia flight at a very traveller friendly time of midday! 
The flight to Goa was pretty uneventful… Apart from the usual routine of having to completely empty my carry on luggage each and every time I go through security… It seems on X-ray my camera looks like this!
  

  
We arrived in Goa and to my unadulterate joy the airport is shared by an Indian Naval Air Station complete with Il-38 maritime patrol aircraft 

  
and MiG-29k fighters! 

  
They even had a carrier ski-jump at one end of the runway…. But it’s time to change the subject or else Deb will get cross! 😂

Goa is much hotter than Bengaluru… As Zahra pointed out out, Bengaluru is at 3000ft on the Karnataka plain! With no pre-arranged transfer to the airport we elected to take a pre-pay taxi.
What we got was a driver with a very small car and anger management and hygiene issues! 😨
I had paid the few rupiah extra for an a/c cab but initially the windows were down and we were enjoying the warm fresh air but he eventually read the chit he’d been given and recognised the extra for AC paid. The AC duly came on but now being enclosed we got to enjoy the full effect of the driver having been sat in a hot and sweaty car all day! Mmm, that’s ripe! 😷
Now, I get that cabbies are paid by the ride and want to get as many in per day as is humanly possible but must we go this quick down windy hill roads? Luckily our driver was either related to Colin McRae or had a host of deities on his side! Some very close shaves with the oncoming vehicles! 😳
  
A great observation from Deb… The roads here are much smoother than in Bengaluru… By a long way, and this seems to encourage the lunatic fringe (like our taxi driver) to go faster and take greater risks! We miss you Naraya, our gentle and ever so helpful Bengaluru driver! 

Still…. We got to listen to some cool Indian tunes on the radio… at full volume, which was nice!
We did eventually get to the Hotel, the Marriott and what an oasis of calm… I literally fell out of the taxi and staggered wobbly legged into the hotel lobby. 
The folks here could not be more helpful. A complimentary ice cold Kingfisher for Sir and Madam? Oh yes! That’ll calm the nerves nicely!
We’re poolside now so time to draw this guest blog entry to a close.

 HAPPY DIWALI EVERYONE!! 

Diwali Celebration

  
One of the first things we were told by the school admin team when we arrived in Bangalore and Stonehill was the date of the Diwali celebration. We were told that if we were in town we “must come” and it was traditional Indian dress. Children were not invited – it was an adults only party.

We quickly decided that I would go (as I would have most interaction with the parents) and Rez would look after Zahra. No handy babysitters out in Bangalore! As it turns out Zahra was invited to join in the huge sweet heist that is trick or treat in Sobha Malachite, where we will be living.

I’ve blogged previously about shopping for a Salwar Kameez. It was supposed to be ready on the Friday. To cut the story short, after several phone calls and no less than 4 visits, I finally picked it up at 5:30pm on the Friday.

  
On Saturday after dropping off Rez and Zahra, I headed over to school alone, somewhat nervous. I have never worn a Salwar Kameez before and had no idea whether it was appropriate or not. I needn’t have worried. Everyone was very complimentary about my outfit, loving the colour in particular. 

  
When I arrived part of the school field had been transformed. Naraya (our temporary driver) dropped me off at the entrance – a huge star shaped gate with red carpet, lined with flower garlands and candles, went all along the pathways to the marquee. I was greeted by two ladies in beautiful sarees who greeted me and lightly tossed flower petals at my feet. 

  
I walked along the red carpet to the marquee. I was one of the first to arrive but was beaten to being first by two German ladies. I asked them where everyone was – I was advised that despite the invite saying 7pm, most Indians would turn up at 8pm and the parents would filter in before that. They were spot on. 

  
We were then greeted by the school’s admissions director and she asked us to get some Henna Mendhi and bangles. (There were turbans for the gentlemen.). The glass bangles were quickly selected by the ladies and they gradually forced them onto my arm (clearly I have fat hands!). The lady doing the Henna Mendhi was talented – a quick and beautiful design was drawn on the palm of my hand. It was only then did she say that it takes 30 mins to dry! 

  
  
I stood chatting with the two German ladies waiting for our hands to dry when a gentleman walked over and introduced himself and thanked us for coming. He then got a waiter to bring us a glass of champagne each whilst we waited for our hands to dry. As he left us to greet other guests the German ladies informed me he was the owner of the school (and Embassy Group of companies) and it was his party. He holds a Diwali party every year for all the school staff and parents. He also holds another party for all the staff in the Embassy group of companies, which was the night before. That explained his comment that he was up till 4:30am and expected to be so again that night! 

  
I wandered over to the marquee to take a look around and take it all in. I started chatting with Simon (the Head of Primary) and didn’t move from that spot for well over an hour as different people came over to say hello and introduce themselves. Everyone is keen to make a new face feel welcome here – it’s amazing. The CEO of the Embassy Group is an English chap called Martin – he chatted with me for quite a while about culture shock, settling in, advising me to try not give myself a list of tasks to do everyday as only one a day will be achievable (how depressing) and to chat to other expats when you want to vent about how things work (or don’t!) in India. He said everyone understands because they have been there so pick up the phone. He handed me his business card – anytime for advice he said. I marvelled how unlikely it would have been for a CEO of a large group of companies in the UK to do that.

I was introduced to so many lovely people that I couldn’t remember everyone’s names – the constant champagne replacements didn’t help with the memory recall it has to be said. 

Eventually we were called to order and asked to take our seats. There was no seating plan so I sat at a table right at the back with a group of people I had never met before. When the lady compare for the evening took the stage I instantly recognised her as one of the people I had been chatting to. She never mentioned who she was at all – just asked how I was settling in. 

There then commenced a series of speeches from the owner, head of school, chaired of the PTA and chair of governors. Then she introduced some Indian interpretative dance. My heart sank and I reached for the champagne. A confirmation that I am not an ‘arty’ person. I couldn’t tell you if it was good or bad, I simply don’t know. It was however blissfully short. (I know that speaks volumes about me rather than the trained and talented dancers.)

  

We were then asked to go outside and light lanterns and light up the sky with light. This was a change to previous years apparently when there had been a firework display. Lanterns were supposed to be more environmentally friendly. I guess that depends on where they land. Anyway everyone duly trotted out of the marquee to light a lantern including me. Except mine wouldn’t light. In the end there were four men assisting trying to get the thing to light and eventually it did. I let it drift off into the night sky along with the others.

  

The buffet dinner was served and there was a fantastic selection of Indian dishes being quickly consumed. It was late and people were hungry. There was a separate chef station cooking Italian pasta dishes which was proving hugely popular. Outside the marquee there were additional chef stations and these were for starters. I didn’t recognise anything. When the chef asked me what I would like I didn’t know so he produced a selection of dishes together and told me to come back for a different section after I had eaten that one. I have to say it was delicious. Both sets of started were lovely and non spicy. I wandered over to the frantic chef station and ordered spaghetti – it was delicious.

  

The DJ then took to the floor and started hammering out banging tunes. The dance floor instantly filled with people dancing. It was like a rave! I stood at the back observing drinking champagne before I quietly slipped out and headed home. It was a good evening.