retiredmartin

July 2023. Royal Tunbridge Wells.

A week ago we were rushing down to Kent where my father-in-law had had a bad night and was getting an emergency referral to Pembury Hospital, birthplace of Mrs RM and other adverts for healthy living.

Pembury is only 10 minutes from the in-laws Southborough home but the quickest route that avoids the queues for B & Q takes you through the dangerous territory that’s home to Kentish Paul.

We spent the whole of Monday in the emergency department at Pembury, waiting for blood tests and consultations and tablets, and you’ll guess how good I am at waiting.

I can’t praise the staff highly enough, and the A & E department seemed relatively calm, so we left at 6:30pm with some tablets and a promise of further diagnostics that week, in need of tea.

I needed fresh air and a contribution at least to the 20,000 daily steps I crave, so I headed straight out to the Chinese takeaway, except I got a bit distracted at the top of the lane.

Now, if you had to pick a pub as your local it wouldn’t be the Imperial, particularly if you like real ale.

Last time out I described the Sheps as “cold tea”, so this time I play safe;

Neck Oil seemed to be the crafty beer of choice in Alsager, but the Men of Kent are sticking firmly to Amstel, which makes me a hipster I guess. Oh dear.

The chap on the stool next to me lets out a huge belch. That’s what I’ll call it, anyway.

“Excuse me young man, I’ve had my seven Newcastle Browns“.

“Seven !“. And indeed he had, all from a huge wine goblet. Classy place, Southborough.

Sort of classy, though the high street leading to t’Wells is a bit rundown and the beamed Weavers has just closed once more.

My chosen takeaway Meow’s is yards from my Brother-in-Law’s flat, and is genuinely one of the best in the country, a NCTSS 4 to Chung Hwa’s NCTSS 4.5+.

Blimey, the Imperial looked good on the way back.

Meal for 3 plus the squid, fed 5 of us with enough for breakfast (I recommend leaving the leftovers in a hot place for 3 days for best effect). Malbec, obviously.

Father-in-law’s first Chinese takeaway since 1980 (and that was possibly a Marks & Spencer microwave meal), and he LOVED it. My work on earth is almost done.