So this is almost it. One day to go before Caroline & Pete arrive and the solitude gets broken!
Also, I calculate I have been here for exactly one month. Well I know I have, from the date. But the moon is now just about at the same phase it was when I first arrived. It’s funny how you notice these little things. I am slightly sad that the next time I see it in that phase it’ll be the other way up, and I’ll be shivering!
I had to do some grocery shopping this morning in preparation for the impending arrivées. First though, I called in at “Villas Caroline” to enquire about Séga. It’s tonight. So I booked my dinner there. (I’m sure “Casa Pizza” will understand!)
Unfortunately they only have it on Saturdays, so Caroline & Pete will miss it. However, they don’t mind if you video and take photos, so hopefully I will be able to capture something of it for them. I just hope I am not asked to get up and have a go! They have other forms of live music most nights of the week, so maybe we can visit it again.
I’m back now, having put the shopping away, and am tidying up my records on the lap top. You know what they say: “A blogger’s work is never done”. (Do they?)
I met Roy and his little girl, Layla, on the way back here. You may remember they were at the barbecue party out here the other evening. I got things mixed up AGAIN – because he isn’t Lynne’s husband. He’s a friend of Bernadette, with whom he is staying at the moment. Lynne came with Mark and his wife (“Dascha” I think
Lunch - the usual bread and cheese – then even more serious typing up of blogs!
About
When I got back and checked, David had emailed me to say Caroline & Pete had been safely dropped off at
So, poor old Dave is stuck there by himself now. Well, at least for some of the time. He will be going round to a friend’s house for meals.
Well, I had better get my glad-rags on if I’m going out living it up.
I’ll let you know what it was like!
I manage to get through the wall of security surrounding “Villas Caroline” and now a waiter is showing me to my “table for one”.
This is infinitely posher and infinitely larger than any restaurant I’ve eaten in so far. And crawling with flunkies and assorted serving staff. The instruction on the menu (which is printed in three languages) states: “smart casual dress”. So I wonder if my back-pack will cause concern. It doesn’t. It would have been just too bad anyway. I would have happily gone to another place,
Well, waiter-1 takes me down to a table very handily close to the dance floor and stage, so that should give me a good view of the band, and the Séga. Ah. Waiter-2 has just arrived and tells waiter-1 that “table for one” is “upstairs”. That turns out to mean further back, in the covered area, up a few steps – next to a pillar. Fortunately this pillar does not obstruct my view. In any case, I should be able to move once the action starts.
I notice that the place is already quite busy. Unlike the other restaurants I’ve been in (with the possible exception of “Casa Pizza”) this is a residential hotel, and most of the diners I take to be staying here. There are families, couples, small groups of friends but, predictably, no single diners – except for moi. This is definitely not a good place to dine alone.
There seem to be an inordinate number of waitresses and waiters, given the fact that tonight is a self-serve buffet – always hard work, in my experience. On the other hand, I suppose it does provide the opportunity to get one’s money’s worth.
The synthesised music has just started. We’re on “Autumn Leaves” at the moment and I’m reminded of the rendition of that tune given by my friend at “Casa Pizza” last Saturday. Straining my eyes, I can just make out. Yep. Nobody is actually playing the two-tier keyboards.
The serving staff creep around, occasionally hovering much like a kestrel will before it swoops on its prey. (I later discover this description fits even more accurately than I imagined).
Gawd, it’s a bit like eating your dinner sitting in front of a security camera. And they interrogate you at regular intervals: “finish?” “OK?” Hardly guaranteed to make you feel relaxed and at ease.
I almost believe they must be paying me to be here. Why do they make me feel so GUILTY? Totally irrational, I know. If I had some company things would be quite different. Never mind, this ought to be the final evening of solitary confinement.
I start with a “Rhum Arrangé” which is OK, but a rather pale imitation of those I’m used to. Then off for starters. Rice salad with various bits, really. While I’m eating that, the waitress asks if I’d like another rum. No. I’ll have a beer please.
The main course seems to be noodle-based. Min Frit? I am given a helping of this and am directed to another table where I ladle on a spoonful each of two sorts of stew. At the next table there are also barbecued chicken pieces, sausages and other goodies. My plate is quite small so I decide I will go back for that after I’ve eaten this. BIG MISTAKE. No sooner has my fork descended onto my empty plate than – whoosh! It’s whipped out from under my nose. Along with the cutlery. Aah. So no seconds, then.
I sit sipping my beer for a while, half hoping that one of the thousands of staff will appear with clean cutlery so I can help myself to that nice-looking barbecue. Eventually one comes over (funny how they dessert you when you’re not eating!) and asks “are you not having a sweet, sir?” So that puts the lid on any thoughts of over-indulging tonight – unless there are monster pudding-bowls to be filled, which doesn’t seem too likely given the signs so far.
I say thank you, and that I will take desert shortly. Meanwhile, I order another beer. The band hasn’t started yet. But to get a good view of it I would have to look backwards slightly, and around a pillar. The trouble is you end up looking across at the folk at the next table; staring them face-to-face. I begin to appreciate the finer qualities of “Casa Pizza”!
Oh. Another solitary man has just been shown to the table next to me. Well, you can’t be right all the time.
Oh (again). He seems to have either asked to be, or has been, moved elsewhere. I wonder if I smell? I did have a shower before coming out though.
I’ve just noticed a wide-screen TV over there, not far from the stage. It is showing sport (probably soccer) but thankfully with no sound.
Gawd, it’s only 8.10 pm. The Séga doesn’t start till 9.30, and I’m already trying to make a half-inch of beer last forever. Shall I explore desert? Almost imperceptibly, the band has now started. They must have blended in with the synthesised musak. It sounds just as synthetic as before, but now there are real drums and a real bass. I can see them (if I crane my neck). The rest is keyboards.
Ah, now the keyboard player has switched to more authentic voices: acoustic piano; classic electric piano. And he’s good. Very good. In fact the ensemble itself ain’t half bad. I wish I was bit closer to the stage though.
OK time to dose up on pud. There were small chocolate éclairs, thingies and cream cake. The bowls were not monster-sized, as I feared they wouldn’t be. I took one of each.
Now the band is doing “Guitar Tango” by the shads. So right up to the minute, then! The tune is still played on the keyboard. And now it’s a different tango, and a Dad and little tot are dancing to it.
There is a singer now. At first I’d say he was a bit off-key, but he settles down eventually. There’s also a guitarist; and a woman has also joined them. She sings a ballad in French accompanied, at first, by just a “grand” piano. She is very good. The rhythm section gradually builds underneath.
Suddenly, the table next to me becomes occupied by another single bloke! But this one stays, and we start talking. He’s Swiss, name of Simon. He hales from a small town near
Now there is a saxophonist. I think he is also the guitarist.
My pudding finished, I am at once accosted and asked if I would like coffee. I have an espresso. It comes with the bill. Now that’s new. You normally have to ask for that.
The buffet was advertised at Rs550, so it is somewhat disconcerting to find the bill amounts to Rs1012 (getting on for 20 quid). The difference was entirely due to the drinks of course (rum, two beers and an espresso); and VAT, which I always forget.
Still, I suppose it is reasonable to have to pay for the entertainment.
Finally, the Séga troupe arrived, and the mood changed dramatically. They danced in from somewhere at the other end of the room, to the accompaniment of chanting and drum beats (the pavannes). It was quite different from the “séga” I had been hearing piped out of hi-fi systems up to now. I felt this was more authentic. Ok, we were in a big fancy hotel, so it probably wasn’t really; but that‘s the way it seemed.
Most people had actually finished their meals by now, and were generally milling about near the action. So I fished the cameras out, and got busy filming and snapping. Simon did likewise. The light level was rather low for the digicam, but I found stills taken with the video camera were good. I haven’t downloaded any of those yet, but here are a couple of digicam shots:
Well the meal may not have been as impressive as I’m used to, but after all, that wasn’t my main reason for coming here. I certainly enjoyed the Séga.
G’night.
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