Nightmare! No iPhone!

Today I was forced to cope all alone, without my usual communications and with no friendly help from my trusted digital lifeline. Today I was without my iPhone. I won’t apologise for being dramatic (I love a drama) but I will try to retain the ‘it could be worse’ mantra I found myself adopting for the day. That said, it nearly always could be worse, and for me today was made rather trickier in the absence of what isn’t just a phone to me.

Here is how I managed…… And moaned……

First thing, as I was getting ready to leave the flat, I was startled to hear the landline go off (it never usually does in the mornings) and found that Adam was calling me to let me know it was cold out and to cover my ears. He couldn’t of course get me on my mobile and the landline call reminded me how much I was going to miss my mobile. And imagine, if we didn’t have a landline, I’d have gone out without a scarf and hat and then who knows how cold my ears would have been?!

Next I couldn’t tweet my glee in having found a seat on the top deck at the front of the bus. These things I would usually share!

Safely on the bus though, I could not send the usual text to Adam to say a proper good morning and enquire about his journey to work. He knew I was without my phone though so presumably he didn’t take exception.

En route to my first appointment on the bus, I couldn’t check my work emails as usual first thing. Nor action anything within them of course. Wasted time!

And I couldn’t check my diary for the day so I was forced to rely completely on my memory alone with no hope of checking ‘just in case’.

Annoyingly I couldn’t track my map progress on my way to my appointment, and as I wasn’t entirely sure where to get off the bus I became worried I’d missed the stop. The automated announcements finally told me where to alight but not before I convinced myself I’d gone past and started flapping.

Whilst I waited for my appointment to begin, I couldn’t shop online for the make up I’d started to run low on and was forced to watch the waiting room TV. More wasted time.

As I left, I couldn’t update my Facebook status to say how wound-up I was about the people at the pelican crossing not pressing the button (I pressed it when I realised the SIX people already waiting hadn’t, and low and behold the green man appeared within seconds!).

Then of course I couldn’t check my route onward to my next appointment. Thankfully my knowledge of the tube map and London’s buses is sufficient enough that I managed, but it would have been good to know I was taking the best route.

AND I couldn’t let the office know I was on my way and running on time.

I couldn’t Google the opening times and tours for the Whitechapel Bell Foundry as I passed it and remembered I’d been wanting to go. Perhaps I’d forget again until I next went past as I couldn’t put a reminder in my diary either.

As I walked from Bank to London Bridge, I couldn’t grumble (via Twitter) about it being so cold as to need gloves and not having any.

And as I crossed over the Thames on London Bridge, I couldn’t Instagram the beautifully sunny view down the river. Nor could I snap a picture of the Shard which was positively gleaming on such a crisp, clear day.

At my next appointment, a tasting, I was unable to refer to an email a client had sent to me, in order to reminder her of her chosen wines.

And afterwards I felt left out as on our return to the office, everyone hit their phones and I was left to look out of the window.

Back at the office, I couldn’t show anyone a venue on my Google Maps and the best way to get there, leaving us to find it in an old A to Z.

Adam was unable to send me the links to some lamps he’d found and was thinking of buying.

And then following after work drinks, I couldn’t let Adam know I was on my way home again and enquire about supper.

I didn’t feel as safe as usual on my way home, as it occurred to me that I was walking in the dark with no way of calling for help.

And I couldn’t check my Twitter feed on the bus ride home. Which made it feel TWICE as long.

I couldn’t write this blog on my Word Press app so was forced to resort to the old fashioned method of pen and paper (although courtesy of my cute pink Smythson note book).

And perhaps worst of all I couldn’t check the progress of my new handset’s delivery. When they sent me the wrong handset on Saturday, I could at least check on its whereabouts whilst out, and knew that I was coming home to it. Today though I just had to hope that all was well and  it had been despatched as promised, and the exchange of wrong phone to right had been carried out successfully by my obliging concierge back at the flat.

And  it had been. And so it was with utter delight that I took my delivery from concierge office to flat, and feverishly opened the parcel to burst forth the sacred contents.

They’d sent me the wrong one again.


Smith’s of Smithfield

Last night we returned to Smith’s of Smithfield for a second wonderful meal. On around the same date last year, our friend Hannah invited us there for her birthday dinner, having had a real trauma trying to find a good restaurant in London who would accept a booking of ten without a deposit and/or set menu. SOS though were happy to oblige us with a lovely large table in their second floor dining room, and so we returned again this year for Hannah’s celebrations.

Adam and I are self-named ‘ethicureans’ and only eat free range meat, and fish that’s line caught and responsibly sourced, so dining out for us is often a disappointment as we forego the amazing looking meat and fish dishes in exchange for a vegetarian meal which fits in with our rules. When we first heard we were going to SOS though we checked out their website to find out a little more about their ingredients and sourcing, and then after a quick phone call we found that all their meat is in fact free range….not just ‘British’ or ‘outdoor bred’. One waiter even said to us ‘I wouldn’t work here if they served any less’.

So, that box ticked, we arrived to the buzzing ground floor bar for arrival drinks before heading upstairs (in the trendily red-quilt-lined lift) to our table situated between the open kitchen and a vast well overlooking the floor below. These, and the other busy tables made for a great atmosphere in what is actually a pretty large restaurant (130 covers), and the attentive and knowledgeable staff certainly helped too.

Last night, having nearly spoiled our dinner on a rather-too-large lunch (see my earlier Maoz post), Adam and I opted out of starters….although I couldn’t resist a few excellent Rock Oysters with sherry vinaigrette (£2.20 each) whilst everyone had their gorgeous looking Dorset Crab & Cox Apple on Toasted Sourdough (£9) and Cream of Cauliflower with Cheese Puffs (£5). Onto mains though and ‘eating light’ soon went out of the window as we were determined to make the most of our meaty feast. Adam chose the South Devon Rib Steak (Aged 21 Days), with Chips & Mayo (£17.50) which was served beautifully pink and perfectly succulent. For me, it was the Rosé Veal in Egg & Parmesan, with Rocket & Anchovies (£16) and although it wasn’t a pretty plate (I’m not a rocket person, and the veal was completely covered in the egg like a sort of omlettey schnitzel) the veal was tender and tasty….as was my side order of wonderfully silky mash (£2.50).

We were too stuffed for puddings, but opposite me, Greg’s Sticky Toffee Pudding (£7) made me very envious as the smell of the hot toffee was almost enough to make me place a late order. Adam settled for an espresso whilst I finished my wine (slow drinker) which he tells me was very good. And by the time we’d finished chatting the place was nearly empty, but with no less atmosphere for it….. and so we left pleasantly full and rather jolly, vowing not to leave it so long until our next visit.


Clockwise from top left: Channelling the 70’s vibe and Margot of The Good Life in floral jump suit and wedges….. Carry On prints in the snug at Wild and Woods….. prize May purchase: Deco silver pineapple candelabra….. home made pot … Continue reading

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