The last time we ate out was not, as I keep insisting, L’alivi in the Marais back on February 24. It wasn’t two days later when I had lunch with Dawn at The Lost Boys. No, the last time we ate out was on March 18 when we decided to have lunch at the Holly Bush, thinking it could be a long time before it happened again. I remember saying to the owner that we’d be back as soon as they re-opened.
It has been a long time.
The government announced a while back that July 4 would be the date when pubs and restaurants could reopen, if they want, with social distancing restrictions and various other public safety measures. Of course this meant that the awful Wetherspoons pubs were open from 6am but it also meant that decent pubs were also open.
One of those decent pubs was The Holly Bush.
And, true to our word, we booked in for dinner tonight.
The pub had put in lots of ‘rules’ regarding distancing and there were lots of pump action sterilizers dotted about. But, the overriding thing was how happy everyone was.
The Holly Bush is very much a village pub and I think most of the village was there. At any rate, every time someone left they went round to every other table to say goodbye.
The photo above was taken quite late. Prior to this the tables were full and the chatter was loud and cheerful. The pub wasn’t full of boozy idiots yelling and yahoo-ing about freedom and shit beer. It was exactly as you’d expect from a real pub.
And, of course, the food was excellent. We shared ham crocquets and salted squid for entrée then I had salmon fishcakes for main. Obviously this was a free for all carb day so I had ice cream for dessert. But, best of all, I didn’t have to wash up.
Apart from the expectation ahead of dinner out, the day involved a very funny Freya episode.
I was in my office and Freya was in the extension. Normally she just follows me out and jumps onto my chair and sits with me. Today, though, she started barking. In itself, this is quite odd.
I popped my head out of my office but couldn’t see her. I called but she just barked. I realised she was just inside the back doors.
Last week at the garden centre, Mirinda bought a pot with a face in it. Sort of like an Easter Island head. It has sat on the potting table all week but today she planted it up and put on the terrace.
This is what Freya was barking at. She realised it was a face and she was telling it to go away. She wouldn’t leave the house, instead was sitting barking in her freaked out way.
It was very funny and also indicative of how intelligent she is. Emma, on the other hand, couldn’t work out what the fuss was about. She sniffed the pot and just went about her business of finding small bits of wood for Mirinda to throw.
PS: I’ve decided to stop cataegorizing posts as Lockdown as I think it’s sort of stopped now.