Thursday 4th December 2025

So, my young padawan, you have accepted the quest to find a bottle, or more, of Vin Santo.

Yes, I have.

I have searched the oracle, the internet, and it tells me that Waitrose will have some.

Isn't that what the oracle said last year?

Yes, but I will journey over the mountains between Folkstone and Hythe, to the larger Waitrose they have there.

OK, travel well, and bring back the bottle of golden liquid.

Before then, there was the gym.

Up at half five and out the door by quarter past six. Outside it was dark, cold and breezy.

My fat little legs took me as quick as they could across the car park into the festive warmth of the reception.

I cycled round Lisbon for forty minutes. A different route to last time, but still familiar. I had a podcast on and time slipped by quickly.

Then back home to have breakfast before we embark on the great quest.

We go via the tip as we had carboard and wood to dispose of, so had a slot booked, which is been a requirement since the days of COVID.

Along the Alkham Valley, where despite the recent rains, no sign of the Drellingore above round, but it won't be long, I suspect.

Onto the motorway for two junctions, then off at the Channel Tunnel entrance, before turning south over HS1 and over the hills via the Sene Valley into Hythe.

Waitrose is a lovely supermarket. Full of lovely things. Lovely things that cost a lot more than at Tesco.

There was no Vin Santo. Of course.

Ashford might have it. But then might not.

I buys some Fuller's Market Porter and some lovely looking bread to go with the soup for lunch.

Then back to Dover and to Tesco to do some real shopping.

Waitrose would have been about 30-40% more expensive that Tesco, and anyway we have the scanners, so we could nip round quick.

But being half ten, was very peoply indeed. With many just standing in aisles looking from their list to the shelves, or, even worse, looking at their phones.

I manage to control my temper. We fill the trolley, go to pay. But have a check on our purchases to be carried out by the poor lady overseeing eight tills.

We had scanned everything, so no worries, so we scamper back to the car in the rain, load the car and go home.

It was half eleven, and lunch time.

We put the shopping away.. I warm up the soup and spoon it into bowls, so we eat with the cheesy, crusty bread unbuttered.

And was delicious.

And then a quiet afternoon as the rain continued, I read some of the Cameron Crowe book. His life is what Almost Famous was based on, the screenplay written by him.

He's a fine writer, so am going to savour this. I read three chapters, feel my eyelids get heavy and snooze on and off for two hours.

Until it was time to make the dough for cheese-stuffed focaccia to go with the defrosted ragu and pasta.

After letting the dough rest for half an hour, I tease it into two thin sheets, cut the soft, creamy cheese and place it on one sheet, cover it with the other, brush olive oil over it and sprinkle sea salt into the oil.

The ragu is warmed, water for the pasta boiled. And it all came together just after it was the cat's dinner time.

For the evening's entertainment, there was Man Utd v West Ham. Thin gruel in anyone's money.

And indeed it was.

Man Utd scored late in the second half, and that was that.

Or so I thought.

But West Ham sweep and equaliser in with minutes to spare to bring a result that pleases neither teams.