I’ve tried really hard not to post too much about food but you’re going to have to humour me here – or skip this post which is totally acceptable, especially since there’s no photos because this hotel is so fancy I felt a bit embarrassed about taking a camera into the dining room even though the staff are so lovely they probably would’ve gone up to my room when I realised my error. Not to worry, I’m determined to come back. Anyhow, here’s the damage – make sure you’re not feeling hungry.

Mum and I spent the afternoon in the seriously classy bar watching the rain come down.

First we looked at the menus and chose our starter, then our intermediate (yes, that’s a thing), main and decided to wait and see of we could fit in dessert and cheese.

Before we were invited into the dining room we were brought a plate of canapés. Salmon mousse in cucumber with caviar, a tiny rarebit with pineapple and steak tartare on toast. Each was a tiny work of art.

Then it was into the dining room and a board of bread. Three kinds of tiny rolls, one lemon scented, one brown with pieces of apricot and the last focaccia with an olive embedded in it. Mum didn’t eat any bread but I later regretted having one of each. But also didn’t because they were delicious.

Next was the starters. Mum had king scallops and pork belly with black pudding puree, I had gravadlax with crab, beetroot and more caviar. I’ve never had gravadlax but in Archer they mention it so I thought I’d give it a try. Turns out I’d had something very similar in the Cook Islands several times. Delicious!

Next up, the course I didn’t know existed – intermediates! We both chose the citrus sorbet with candied orange. This was amazing. Pure orange flavour. On reflection, this is probably why I didn’t need dessert.

Mains (finally). Mum had an amazing naverin of lamb neck (I think naverin must translate into ‘piece’) that literally fell apart. Literally. Amazing. I had the roast crown of Cumbrian beef, which I could pull apart with my fork. I have a feeling the word ‘amazing’ is getting too much of an airing today, but what the heck, this was amazing. The oxtail suet pudding was almost better than the roast and served in a tower, like all fancy food should be.

By that time we were fearing our ability to get out of our seats, let alone make it up the stairs. We turned down the last two courses then we bravely staggered to the bar, waiter carrying our bottle of wine and glasses. Now I’m ensconced in a wine-red studded leather armchair and thinking longingly of the parfait I would’ve had, followed by the unpasteurized soft goat’s cheese I would’ve finished off with, had I not been afraid my sides would split.

But we’re not done. Having told Danny we’d not require our final two courses he took pity on us and brought a plate of hand made chocolates to tide us over.

I can’t tell if they want us to move in or they’re trying to kill us.

Mum and I set off for Warrington this morning. We left a sunny Cambridge in sandals and shorts and found icy rain and winds near Manchester. Bloody English weather!

We came to visit my grandmother’s side of the family, in particular my second cousin Geoffrey and my … hrm… well, his father and my grandmother’s brother, Stanley. My great-uncle? Stanley is turning 100 this year. Not that you’d know it – I’ve not met many people on the verge of turning 100 but if they all looked as good as Stanley I’d be surprised. Obviously I’m hoping this is hereditary.

Mum and I booked into our hotel and Geoffrey came to pick us up. I was immediately struck by his resemblance to my grandmother and, to a lesser degree, my mother. My family doesn’t have really distinctive features like big eyebrows or beaky noses so I think resemblances can be more tricky to spot, but there was definitely something around the eyes that was familiar.

Geoffrey drove us around a bit to see houses that Mum semi recalled (last time she was here was over 50 years ago at the age of 16) then to see Stanley. A little deaf, Stanley had no idea who Mum was to begin with but we talked and he clearly recalled his visit to Australia in about 1978 and it turned out that I’d met him, although being around 2 years old at the time it is no surprise that I don’t recall the occasion.

Geoffrey’s brother Nigel and his partner dropped by and we all talked and looked at some of Mum’s photos – and of course we all took some photos. It was so strange hearing a group of people talk in an accent I only associate with my grandfather (he is from nearby also).

Nigel, Mum and Geoffrey. Unfortunately the only photo I took of Stanley was rubbish – I’m hoping Mum or Geoffrey’s are better.

After that we went to Geoffrey’s place and his tortoises! I had not expected to see so many animals on this visit – everyone we visited bar Stanley had dogs and cats and Geoffry had rabbits as well. The tortoises were quite big too and one was over 20 years old. Amazing!

I want a pet tortoise or two! I bet they’d travel well in my backpack;).

We adjourned to a restaurant down the road for dinner before briefly visiting Geoffrey’s son (my third cousin?) Oliver and his family.

So many new faces! Everyone was lovely and I’m glad that we got to meet them. It’s not every day you meet family for the first time and Geoffrey particularly was so hospitable and lovely, driving us around and telling us what had happened to everyone.

Tomorrow we’re heading to Burnage Lane, where Mum spent her childhood before moving to Australia at age 11. Then after that is a relatively short drive to the Lake District where we’re spending two nights.