Silks, Songs and Sag Aloo

Vic's Mum and Dad were down with us at the weekend. It was Bob's birthday. They were also down for a friend's memorial service -- the guy had a fatal heart attack just a week after retiring to France.

For Bob's birthday treat we all ventured off to the newly renovated House of Spice in Thame. They've gutted the place and refurbished it in the style of Pizza Express less the style. The smoking area is beneath the non-smoking area, so all the smoke drifts up to the non-tabbers. At one end of the restaurant they've installed a giant plasma screen on which they were loudly playing Bollywood movies. [I love the colour of the silks and the fact you can spot who the heroes and villains are from the colour and condition of their clothes and size of their moustaches.]

As we'd walked up to eat, and the weather was threatening rain in that typically English manner, we had carried a pair of umbrellas with us. The helpful waiter, who couldn't speak English -- he didn't even understand that common Indian Restaurant Phrase Book standard of "half a pint of Kingfisher lager please" -- took our umbrellas from us and hid them in the cloakroom next to the big screen.

When our time came to leave, we asked the Waiter Who Only Understands The Word Pint to retrieve our umbrellas for us.

And as he scuttled up the restaurant towards the clockroom and that big plasma screen showing a classic Bollywood musical, I couldn't resist saying:

"For him it's a dream come true... he's off to Brollywood."