The Pryordurkins

Posts Tagged ‘switzerland’

The last month or so has seen us both spending quite a bit of time away from our home in North Yorkshire.  This has been for both good and bad reasons.  The good reasons being holidays, the bad reasons being working away from home; in London for me and in Switzerland for Paul.  This week however has been different in that I got home on Wednesday evening and have finally spent more than one night in my own bed for what seems like a very long time.

Wrapping up from work today a relaxing weekend will lie ahead.  As we have no social engagements planned (no invites if we’re honest!) we’ve decided to join an organised walk on the North Yorkshire Moors early Sunday morning.  It’s eight miles in total and covers some of the area I used to explore and camp on as a member of the boys brigade in my youth.  This time however there will be no supervising adults stopping me from going into the locals pubs to get warm, have a spot of ale and maybe a ploughmans lunch

Clearly feeling guilty having caused so much trouble in Switzerland, the Pryordurkin effect has taken a holiday as well.  With it safely out of harms way we arrived at our holiday hotel to be greeted in style.  Discovering champagne on arrival and another freshly chilled bottle in our room, got us off to a great start. Monday was therefore a joy and the evening ended quite early with a nice Italian…meal.  Tuesday has been quite busy so far!  The day started late with breakfast in the club house, followed by a little stroll before a light lunch poolside.  We then endured a couple of hours in the Spa, having a double Swedish Massage before retiring to our own private pool, to take a little sun while drinking a drop of the complimentary red wine.  This evening will see us joining the general manager who is throwing a cocktail party for (we like to think) a select few guests

All in all the holiday has been trouble free, very relaxing and going to plan.  Here’s to the pryordurkin effect taking more holidays itself.  Hoping the weather back home is great for you

I legged it from the office yesterday wishing them fun while I’d be away, to meet up with Paul at Kings Cross who had just arrived having returned from his conference in Switzerland via Heathrow.  With minutes to spare we managed to bag a couple of seats on the 4.00pm train to York.  As we settled in, Paul was keen to get back on line and check the Internet to see what I had been blogging all week.  He hadn’t quite realised just how much attention the story of Fred and the double bed had been getting. It was fun watching his face :-)  I enquired how the parting from his room Buddie had gone earlier that morning and apparently their last few shared words included “we probably won’t see each other again..”.

The end of a good story.  What will I blog about now?

As I was unwrapping my pork chop for one, purchased earlier today from the local butchers, Paul rang from his conference in Switzerland while waiting for his (now) five course dinner to start.  Apparently this afternoons agenda was set aside for the delegates to experience the Spa facilities on offer.  I listened carefully, while putting 10 Aunt Bessie frozen mash potato disks in the microwave to Paul describing the various ice pools, dips, saunas, Hamman steam rooms and outdoor swimming pools that overlook the mountain range he’d just enjoyed.  While cutting open a bag of frozen peas I asked for a little more detail, wondering whether he would pick up on the sarcasm. He didn’t and went onto describe the complicated dress rules the delegates had to follow in each of the Spa areas.  The microwave pinged and my chop under the grill started burning as Paul described how each of the Spa areas had men in various states of undress.  One particular room had these men of a scientific persuasion (and actually of other persuasions as it turned out) complete in their birthday suit splendour and without a towel between them to protect their modesty.

Paul threatened to hang up when I asked if he’d sucked his belly in for the duration.

Expecting to work in London the early part of this week and packing my suitcase accordingly, I now find myself on the 5.30pm train from Kings Cross back to York this evening.  The only downside is Paul is still away in Switzerland so this rare occurrence of my being at home mid-week will only be enjoyed by our two cats, who I am sure will show excitement and pleasure at my walking through the front gates when I eventually arrive back just after 8pm.  Of course this does also now present me with the problem of what to cook for dinner.  I don’t normally have to think of such things during the week when living out of a hotel room with restaurants nearby and room service a phone call away.

The moon, stars and planets must all be aligned at the moment, because the effects of combining a Pryor and a Durkin are truly kicking in today.  The morning started with me asking when I woke up; “Why does the clock say 5.40am?”, followed by, “Why didn’t the alarm go off?”.  We had set the alarm for 4.30am because Paul needed to catch the 6am train from York to get to Heathrow for his flight to Switzerland.  I won’t repeat what Paul said, when I repeated (and this time he heard me say) “Why does the clock say 5.40am?”

Having accepted the 6am train was no longer an option, we checked the train timetable and realised that with a bit of luck the 7am train would still get Paul to Heathrow in time for his flight.  So we got ready and headed to the station after a spot of breakfast.

Having bought the tickets at the station, the lady then kindly pointed out that there were service restrictions today and the train that normally takes two hours to get to London, would take three hours as it was going via Leeds.  She added for good measure that the 6am train was not affected and had run on time! I pointed out to her that she was not helping our mood.

Paul’s face sank. He would miss his flight.  We um-med and arr-ed a bit and then realised the only way was for me to drive him to Heathrow.  Thankfully the roads were quiet and I dropped Paul off at the new Terminal 5 just after 10am, turning round to drive straight back home again.

Paul caught his flight and had landed in Switzerland before I was anywhere near home.  The traffic coming back was horredous with holdups being caused by the repairs to the carriageway at the spot where we saw a car veer of the road and into the barriers, on our way down!  (the other side we might add!)

Well, Paul set’s off in the morning to his conference in Switzerland for the week, leaving the cats and me to fend for ourselves. Unfortunately, the cats are better equipped to look after themselves than I am.  For example; they are clearly more adept at catching mice judging by the number of remains we find around our home.  The next few days will therefore see me eating loads of junk food, with little by the way of vegetables or vitamins.

If by chance you read this, feel sorry for me and know where I live then do feel free to send round a good home cooked meal, a decent bottle of wine and perhaps the odd cream desert or two