Wot? No rocket?


When I first started travelling with my job I was a fairly easy going type who would accept any nonsense from hotels. Now that I’m a seasoned traveller I have my standards. One of which is an insistance of rocket in my “tomato and┬árocket” salad. This evening the hotel has run out of rocket and I’m despondent. To think that some years ago I thought of rocket as iceberg lettuce without attitude, but now my dining experience is incomplete without it. Those of you that know me well will know that I’m generally a positive glass half full type but tonight I’m grumpy due to the absence of rocket from my life. Even the waitress who normally bombards me with “meal alright sir?” Is avoiding me as she can see from distance to that the mixed leaves aren’t cutting it. As someone who didn’t discover salad till I was married, I can hear my mother birling in her grave. I’ll probably need a desert to get over this trauma.

And another large glass of Tempranillo.