I heard the Blackcap in the garden again yesterday morning. Again it quickly flew away but this time I had a clear sight of him and was able to visually confirm the species. He definitely has a favourite bush from which to call.
Inspired by photographs way superior to mine of Wild Chicory on a blog I follow, here, Blue dancers | absolutelynotnormal, I asked myself why my attempts at macro photography have more often than not been unsuccessful. I had thought that it might be one the few things my camera (a Nikon P1000) might not be terribly good at, but it turns out the fault lay entirely with the photographer. Read the instructions! My instinct had always been to zoom in but actually that’s the last thing you should do – just get the camera really close to the subject in macro mode. That is basically it. So here are my first few efforts, with a Michaelmas Daisy at the head of the post. I am rather kicking myself for not working this out sooner but on the other hand I now have a whole new world to explore.
Petunia
Buddleia, well past its prime
I even surprised myself with this, the tip of a biro.
Also yesterday, an American art dealer and old friend of my parents kindly invited me to lunch at The Arlington restaurant off Piccadilly. It’s owned by stellar restaurateur Jeremy King, famous for in particular The Ivy, The Wolseley and Le Caprice, all of which I am lucky to have enjoyed at various times. The last time I went to Le Caprice one of my parent’s guests set fire to the menu from the candle on the table. Le Caprice is now The Arlington and it has changed reassuringly little but has a fresh portfolio of David Bailey photographs. Jeremy came to our table for a chat as is his wont and I suddenly realised who it is that Patrick Grant from The Great British Sewing Bee reminds me of.
We had a lovely time but for such a reputed venue – all of Jeremy King’s restaurants have been very much places to see and be seen – I found it shockingly … mediocre. I don’t usually like to post negative reviews but the first surprise was not to be asked for my preference when I ordered a gin and tonic. I wouldn’t expect that everywhere by any means but the gin boom wasn’t that long ago and it seemed careless. We both had the salmon fishcake, which was redeemed by the sorrel sauce but was otherwise underwhelming and rather tasteless, which does not really seem on at £29.50 a pop. I also ordered pommes allumettes, matchstick potatoes, which I haven’t seen on a menu for years. The choice was mash, fries or pommes allumettes, but what arrived were simply fries. Our very charming waiter immediately admitted that they “mis-sold those” and removed them from the bill. Reviews on Tripadvisor are decidedly mixed.
The journey took me over two hours each way and cost me over £90 including two taxis. At least for once the trains were more or less on time, but it had me wondering how on earth I managed to do that every single working day for some ten years. An infuriatingly patronising pre-recorded announcement on the train asked us all to behave respectfully towards staff and each other.
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