filimbouk's profile

Queuing for Burrito, heato Burrito? 93 feet east but my two were in the queue, below a bladder full of free Red Stripe and pretoxics, so i slashed it out in an open windowed men’s room, returned they were nearly out of rice. Burrito was as fat as a dog, but not inside (cow pork chicken choice) Had the full heat, black beans, stuffed it down opposite two drunk frenchies slightly envious of my mouth haul, buried in my gut. It was good enough to pay for, but why in Camden? Is there a Camden demand? Can they stand the Camden demand, or is it unplanned? It sits in the hand but nests in the gullet unlike a bird or a bush.

Absolutely brilliant museum, chock full of antiquities which is apparently very close to how Sir John left things when he shuffled off to the great architect in the sky. Free.

The volunteers are all sort of stereotype jobsworths who are very good value for money. Go downstairs and see all the italian pieces in the basement, with a sarcophagus thrown in for good measure, or stay on the ground floor and admire the room of Hogarth paintings, very apt political scenes given the current climate. Also enjoyable is his roomful of reflecting mirrors which is a bit like being inside a dalek.

Good pub with decent sized windows, looks very traditional inside if you’re a tourist seeking the british drinking experience you could do much worse than here.

I had one of the traditional ales they offer, since this is a Nicholson’s pub, so they’ll do stuff you wouldn’t get anywhere else. The name escapes me; why not try them all?

Good size seats at the back, I stayed at the bar with the paper.

I ate here with my mum, doing the good value lunch. I had a very very rich risotto, which I think was a bit too thick to be a real risotto. It was a bit like treacle. My mum had some kind of chicken thing which looked very nice. There aren’t many seats, so you may have problems getting one when they’re busy.
There are a couple of better restaurants than this located in St Pancras station, so they probably rely more on the hotel business to survive.

This is a small old hotel/pub located near the railway station, at the poor end of Rugby, away from the town centre, on the opposite side of town to the famous school. I can only comment on the food, since I didn’t stay at the hotel. Basically, we went along for the Mothers Day meal, £16 for three courses, and it was a bit abysmal. I don’t know what their regular meals are like, but with this it felt like everything came from a packet or straight from Iceland. I don’t think anything was actually prepared in the kitchen, just heated up. To make it worse, plates did not come to the table full, but instead 4 different waitresses arrived with different things and started building meals on the plates. This would have been fine if they could actually get round the table, but three of our party were so close to the wall they could barely move, so the waitresses had to lean over the whole length of the table. One waitress was brusque to the point of bossiness, one of those people who don’t want to be doing their job and see customers as an inconvenience. The casserole tasted and looked like it came straight from a can with suspiciously easy to chew 'beef’ which could have been anything, and the roast pork and roast beef other people had looked like packet slices, heated up. I think it’s always suspicious if you can’t see a roast being carved. As much as i dislike the president restaurant in London at least they do a decent proper roast, that you can actually see in front of you being carved up. My starter was melon, and you know what? I think it was just those sliced chunks you get in Tesco. Desserts could easily all been defrosted from Iceland. Nothing was fresh baked. Just disappointing. You get much better quality meals in a Wetherspoons, it’s much cheaper, and they give you booze thrown in. Would dearly love to see this place on one of those Gordon Ramsay programmes.

Nice little pottery that produces its own stuff, everything from kitchenware to stuff for the garden, ornaments, wall hangings and such. There’s lead stuff for outside. A welcome addition to Grassington’s shops, unlike some i could mention.

Nice pair of bones on the cliff top looking out over the north sea with a good view of the abbey. You’ll be able to get easy access if you’re staying in one of the old peoples hotels at the cliff top, and less easy access to if you’re staying at the youth hostel near the abbey. Why not stand between them and feel like a leviathan’s lunch? You don’t have to walk up there, there is a cliff lift from the beach, but you then have to double back. It’s up to you.

Pleasant enough little museum with nice interactive bits that you can fiddle with even though you’re too old to do so.
I seem to remember having to assemble some kind of thing wearing gloves. Nice photos of the town and people and so on. I think we were made to put our bags in the corner though, so as to prevent theft. They don’t check your trousers though.

I did the walk the other way, from Whitby to Robin Hood’s bay, and it’s not 18 miles. I went along the road, setting off about 9 in the morning, and I was there by 1 in the afternoon. Robin Hoods bay has lovely windy streets and paths to explore, but there’s not that much to do.

I had intended to stay at Robin Hood’s youth hostel, but instead i walked on to Scarborough, which is a long way, finally arriving about 8pm, to find the youth hostel shut. Ha!

I would say the walk from Whitby to Scarborough is probably between 13 and 16 miles given it tooke me about 6 hours after I’d decided to stop walking along the beach cause I thought i was going to drown. (time includes a climb up the cliffs to escape certain death.)

I think this is the place where we did a residential maths weekend or week. For no good reason I didn’t do well in my year 10 exams so was packed off here to get my average up. It was just a big house in the middle of nowhere. Spent the days doing maths, and the evenings are a blank. We must have eaten but I can’t remember what. Had a day at teh beach I think. Tried fixing a lightbulb in the room of a girl a liked but nothing came of it.