WHAT has happened to all the British pubs? If there had been an Olympic challenge for watering holes wed never have got a Team GB together.
Our inns are disappearing faster than a lemonade shandy on a hot day.
Last week, after a stressful day in Southampton following a family bereavement, Mr F and I decided to stop for a drink on the way home.
We took a detour off the M3 at Basingstoke, where we imagined wed fall into a wayside inn and sit outside with a cool drink.
Sadly, all we found were dual carriageways, soulless leisure parks and interminable roundabouts which led only to pub-less housing estates.
We ended up at Fleet motorway services, where I decided to have a ploughmans lunch. Then I saw all the pre-prepared plates contained pork pie.
Can I spell it out to caterers that people who do not eat meat are often limited in their choices and a ploughmans is as sacred to us as a nut roast? I had porridge instead.
n We all try to eat healthily these days, and with the incredibly successful Olympic games winding up on Sunday, and the Paralympics opening two weeks today, organisers are hoping that all their efforts for both games will inspire us to get fitter in future.
Well, I thought Id better get involved, so I bought a CD called Get Fit, which supports the London games and presumably athletes of the future. Another big selling point was that the price was reduced.
My self-righteous euphoria was somewhat diminished when Mr F saw me typing furiously to the strains of Jump by Girls Aloud.
He pointed out the workout plans inside the CD sleeve. Apparently youre meant to exercise to the music.
n Regular BM@IL readers who remember my peanut, the exercise ball gadget that I never quite mastered (I kept slipping off), will be shocked to hear it was refused by a charity shop in Ruislip.
We wont sell that here, said the woman, while gladly accepting the books and clothes Id taken along too.
Email me if you can offer the peanut a good home, at bmailbarbara@gmail.com.
