I've reached the venerable age of forty years yesterday, dear readers. Ahem. Not quite mentally ready to settle down to a pipe, paper and slipper-based existence, I decided to enjoy a quiet, pleasant day with my better half. We wandered down to a brand new Spanish tapas bar in the High Street, a genuine asset to our neigbhourhood. The place is called Bar Celona and we had a lovely few hours enjoying the atmosphere, great music and general niceness. I was suitably impressed to find that they have Castlemaine XXXX on draught; it just doesn't get any better than that. I hope they make a real go of this new venture. It's something Kingswood needs more of, that's for sure.
Last Saturday we had friends over from London and went out for a meal. I had the taxi driver (a mellow, chatty sort of bloke) drop us off near the bottom of Princess Victoria Street from where we were able to show our visitors the Clifton Suspension Bridge in all its glory. The hail-, wind- and thunderstorms had temporarily abated so the view to Isambard Kingdom Brunel's masterpiece was splendid. Nice food and wine followed and it was a night to remember if only for the fact that it was my last night out as a thirty-something. I've always wanted to have published a book in England before my fortieth. I've recently achieved this. Now I have to see about selling a few copies of Love's Own Treasure. If life begins at 40, rock on!
