Hello Again Peeps,

It’s been a few weeks, but I’m back with more drivel. So welcome to Sfaxian Tales, the Holiday Edition.

Yes, I took a weeks leave. Sort of.  Left the Flotel on Sunday, flew back to the UK on Monday and arrived back out in Tunisia on the following Sunday for a load of meetings, finally getting back offshore today Tuesday. Whoopdebloodydo!

Still, may have been brief, but it was fun at home. I finally bought the new car.  We visited a fantastic little hotel in Betys Y Coed. I spent a dodgy few hours in Cheshire Oaks Designer retail park. And I actually got to chill out for a few days.

Customer non Service

The flight home on Monday was fun…..not. Courtesy of my old Chums,  Air France.  I had a flight from Sfax to Tunis which left at 06.16am and got

into Tunis at 07.10am. My connecting flight to Paris was scheduled to leave at 12.30pm  but there was an earlier flight at 09.10am.  Are you following this?

With my fully flexible business class ticket clutched in my paw, I strode manfully upto the airfrance desk and asked if I could get onto the earlier flight. I have seldom seen a better display of complete disregard for customer care. No, said the man. Why not, I asked. Because you are on the 12.30 flight says he. Yes I know, but I have a fully flexible ticket and wish to get home earlier, s’il vous plait. Sadly, monsieur didn’t plait. To cut a long story short, he refused to even check if there was space on the earlier flight.  In a fit of frustration,  I demanded to see his supervisor. Sadly, he was the senior man on, so no joy there.  After standing there for a good ten minutes harrumphing, clearing my throat and excusing myself, he was still steadfastly ignoring me. Not wishing to cause a scene, I am after all British, I gave in and went of for coffee. It was either that or thump the rude git. 

The non Check In

I came back at around 09.15am. The intention was to check in and sit in the airfrance lounge,  getting free coffee and a comfy seat. Sadly, there was no one there. Not a soul. I checked the info board and I was at the right desk. Indeed it was telling me I could check in now. It was still early, I suppose and as there was no-one there to moan too, all I could do was wait. The Check in closed at 11.35am for the flight, but no one arrived from airfrance to the check in desk until nearly 11.00am. I was fuming again. Even then, only one guy showed up and there was a huge queue by this stage, with me at the back. If you have ever worked in or visited an arab country, you’ll know that they can make an epic drama out of the simplest activity. So checking in around 100 Tunisians onto a flight is a nightmare. I seriously believed I would miss it as it got closer to 11.35am. I finally got to the front, just as another airfrance type strode up and opened the business class check in desk. By now there was no one waiting. Frustrated, I decided to express my displeasure. So, I gave her a good glaring at whilst wishing I could swear in French. 

The Delay

Turned out, the plane was delayed. This meant when I finally arrived in Charles de Gaul, I had very little time to make my connection.

Consequently, I was frog marched, (no pun intended),  through immigration and security to get to the gate for my connecting flight to Manchester. This, it seems, had to be done at a brisk trot with me juggling all my assorted hand baggage, tickets, passport, duty free, etc. We managed to find a roundabout route involving a lot of stairs, I noticed.  I was convinced the normal route was more direct and quicker. Eventually, thoroughly  rattled and a bit sweaty, I finally got to the gate.  Sadly, once there, I was  advised the Manchester flight was delyed by 2 hrs.  I hate Air France. 

Once I was back in a PROPER British AIRPORT, things were much smoother. My hire car was waiting for me and was an upgrade to a Mercedes M Class SUV. The traffic wasn’t too bad. I got home quicker than I expected and wasn’t savaged by the dogs. Excellent. 

Home Sweet Home

 

Next day, I decided to visit Cheshire Oaks. Wifeys Birthday was looming, so seemed like a great place to pick up some pressies for her. Wasn’t sure what I was going to buy, but having heard so much about Cheshire Oaks, I was confident I would be inspired.

Well it was totally naff. I spent ages walking around, wondering what all the excitement was about? It’s a genuinely unpleasant place.  My advice is DON’T GO THERE. I finally gave up and went into Chester instead. There, I found lots of things in no time at all. Better still, I managed a visit to my favorite pub. There, I had a very pleasant pint of Jennings Bitter and a huge and very tasty ham and pease pudding sandwich.  That’s my idea of a successful shopping trip. 

The Birthday

Wednesday was birthday day and Wifey had managed to secure a day off work.  Have to say it wasn’t a very relaxed start to the day. In fact it was frantic. Early morning phone calls from overseas parents. Dogs escaping and trying to savage neighbours.  Kids late for school and unable to find anything they needed. It was awful.  Still, Wifey  managed to handle them all whilst I lay in bed wondering what was going on, bless her. 

The Feast

That night, I cooked a birthday feast and our neighbours came around to join us for dinner. Langoustine and scallops in a champaign sauce with

smoke salmon wrapped seafood rissotto.  This was followed by honey basted duck, roast spuds, garlic and spring onion spinnach and red cabbage with cranberry. Not bad if I say so myself. The lot was completed with chocolate fudge cake and custard and accompanied with a plentiful supply of alcohol. Some Aussie Shiraz, some French Pouilly Fouse.  Veuve  Cliquot  champers and some very nice dessert wine. All in all a good night, but a shockingly bad following morning. Must have been something I ate. 

The New Car

Thursday I bought a new Car. Well, it was already ordered, but I signed the final paperwork on Thursday. Irritatingly, I won’t be here to collect it. Hence, on March 1st, Wifey collects a new BMW Z4 SE Roadster with lots and lots of toys. Full Satelite navigation, sequential manual gearbox, carver hi fi system. And cup holders. The dogs dangly bits on wheels. Sadly, by the time I get to play with it, it’ll be second hand as she’s planning trips upto Aberdeen and various other remote locations in it. Still, I am hopeful she wont be able to figure out the gearbox. so all will be well. The gears do have her worried. Hence questions like,  “ if it’s a manual gear box dear, why hasn’t it got a clutch”  Of course, I just look down condescendingly at her, smiling and shaking my head whilst thinking, “buggered if I know dear”.  Anyway, with luck it’ll still be in one piece when I see it and with less than 10,000 miles on the clock. 

The Ty Gwyn Hotel

And so to Betys Y Coed. Wifey booked us into the Ty Gwyn Hotel. Apologies for the spelling, but it sounds like that honestly. It’s an oldy worldy coach inn,  just outside the village on the main road. It doesn’t look very imposing, but the beer is good and the food is fantastic. Oh and the rooms are cheap but very comfortable too. We were in a four poster room with very low ceiling beams and lots of character.

As for the beer, they had Brains Rev James, Tetleys Best and Mitchells Lancaster Bomber on handpull. Over the weekend, I sampled them all and they were all Fab.  They also offer a  small but very good wine list. The wines are not expensive but are well thought out. We tried a very good Zinfandel which was really rather pleasant. We enjoyed it so much, I am trying to order a case for home. As for their food. Wow.

The Menu

The first night, Wifey had a simple starter of melon and prawn Mari Rose followed by Thai Duck. Beautifully cooked and presented. As for me, I started with stilton stuffed mushrooms and followed with Welsh lamb wellington. Superb. Gillian is a pudding lover, usually deciding which pudding she is going to have before choosing her main course. However, despite the excellent selection, neither of us could manage dessert. So a coffee and a few more drinkies was the best we could do. 

I can also recommend their very rare roast beef, ( especially with the local mustard in fresh baked bread), the smoked cod and poached eggs for breakfast and as for their lamb Joint!  I expected to see the usual lamb shank on a bed of mashed potatoes. Instead, we got what looked like a whole lambs leg in a caramelised onion jus with a mash of swede, carrot and potato. Fantastic. Didn’t need to eat again for a week. A small crane was required to lift me from the dinner table and transport me to the nearest armchair to stagnate and digest. It was hog heaven.

The Return

However, its now back to the real, (unreal world) of work in Tunisia after all too short a break. The Flotel  is still very pleasant and I’m sure I’ll soon get back into the swing of things. Due home again at the end of March when I hope to spend more time with the offspring. Our daughter made 14years last Sunday and whilst she got her pressies, I really want to take her out for a birthday tea. After all, as her Dad, I have to embarrass her at every opportunity these days. No, 1 son did  very well on his school report, so that needs celebrating too. Of course, I also want to drive the new car and may have to sample more decent beer and food. In the meantime. Stay tuned for next weeks thrilling episode of life in a Tunisian Flotel

Cheers all

Graham

PS.  A. huge and heary congrats to Clayton and Carolyn Thomson who did the deed and finally got marriied on Friday 11th. Best of luck peeps!