The Little Horse is back at her digs in Cheltenham, and I have called to blow her a kiss goodnight.
This hotel is far preferable to our modest quarterings in Boulder, possibly reflecting recent notions of hotel construction. Somehow, the idea of enshrining a spirit of place died in architects, or anyway those commissioned to build hotels and motels for the Journeying Gigster, during the 1960s, 1970s, and early part of the 1980s.
Hey! I can handle post-modern - the rooves aren't flat. Decoration is a crime? Wise up, dude. If the Alhambra is an example of decorative crime, I'll queue up for execution.
Our yesterday journeying was typical: no vegetarian meals ordered on the flights, and 35 minutes to make a connection. This means automatically missing the second flight. A Happy Gigster needs one hour minimum for domestic transfers, 90 minutes for international. We waited 150 minutes for the next flight, to Vancouver from Seattle.
Little Toad Ezra Gunn, with mother Debra, were at the airport to meet Trey. (My Mother and I were the witnesses at Trey & Debra's wedding in Poole, during their stay at the Red Lion House).
Trey, John Sinks and Chris Murphy are all Seattle residents, so we'll see them in Vancouver tomorrow.
Bibliophiliacal acquisitions of the day include "The Land Without Music" by Andrew Blake (MUP 1997): a history of "Music, Culture & Society in Twentieth Century Britain". I have already begun.
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The hotel's vegetable lasagne was quite acceptable. The Indigo Bistro Moderne might more accurately be named the "Indigo Bistro Post-Moderne": its decorative themes referred to various themes recognisable since the 1950s, without quite committing itself to any of them. The restuarant music of choice was Dean Martin: also quite acceptable, although I was unable to determine exactly how this fitted into the other themes on offer. During Dino's crooning of "Return To Me" (in Italian) I was reminded of Chris Spedding's argument that Dino was as much an influence on Elvis as any other.
"To try is to fail."
