Vodka and Red Bull before 0930

I was too early to check in at the Travelodge this morning but that didn't stop me from trying. Even after exercising my undying boyish charm and modesty at the reception desk I still could not get a room until mid-day. So, nothing else to do apart from heading to Bardo's Lounge on The Colonnade for breakfast.

Walking to Bardo's

Along King Street past the huge building site within the triangulation of Queen Street, King Street and The Broadway. Little over three months ago this area was just a level piece of ground waiting to be developed. Now there are three super cranes spanning around the site, an army of building workers and some basic shells of buildings just two stories high. I would really like to see the Gantt Chart for project management for this entire building site. All the steps clearly marked out, timed and budgeted for and ever mindful of the strong red line denoting the point of delay and budget penalties.

At the crossing of The Broadway and King Street a young man skidded his bike to a halt and leant it against one of the huge planters. Frantically he rummaged in his pockets to retrieve a quarter bottle of vodka and a small tin of Red Bull, "the drink that gives you wings" and sponsors a Formula One Team one of whose cars won the Spanish Grand Prix yesterday (22nd May 2022).

By the time I crossed the road half the vodka had been downed straight from the bottle. As I passed him, I heard the fizz exhaling from the can of Red Bull that chased the vodka.

I am not wearing this young man's shoes or pedaling his bike. So far be it from me to judge but instead to wonder what has happened in his so far short life reducing him to drinking vodka and Red Bull when others are remembering or looking forward to their breakfast as I was at Bardo’s Lounge.

On the way I popped into my favourite news agents in Queen Street. There I handed over my lottery tickets to be checked but was told by the lovely lady who owns the shop. "Sorry...the machine is not working...I think the whole system across the country is down". We chatted for a few minutes about travelling, the horses and life. I bought a copy of The Times and left the shop feeling reasonably happy.

Breakfast At Bardo's Lounge (again)

It was such a fine morning this morning that the big windows looking over the pavement were opened. All the tables in those windows were taken so I had to sit well back from the front. Breakfast and coffee ordered I went to my table and started a read through of today's The Times.

I couldn't find any one article that grabbed my attention for any length of time. Everything seemed too depressing for a Monday morning in May. Even more depressing that the rising cost of living, how instead of sorting out this crisis Downing Street appears to be spending its resources on damage limitation for the Prime Minister over the Partygate affair. And this is before the imminent publication of the Sue Grey Report about those parties held in Downing Street during the COVID Lockdown which may expose more failings behind the doors of No 10.

The only light relief from all the down beat and quite frankly, depressing news, was the feature cartoon by Peter Brookes....

...but even that gave me an underlying sense of hopelessness and helplessness as whatever happens it appears the PM will still keep his job.

Coffee and breakfast were served. The plate was not even warm to the touch, the hash browns were crisp, crumbly and only just a touch warmer than cold. The fried egg was congealed. The spark of quality and care that I remarked on in my last column was lacking. If I am back next week, I will give them another chance.

What with a newspaper loaded with downbeat news and a disappointing breakfast is it any wonder that I made my way back to the hotel feeling desultory?