Coming home from a less than enjoyable weekend in Wales, we decided to divert from the M25 as Ray has work Monday morning. So we got stuck in traffic on the A34 instead. Things were looking bleak, the iPod had hit Elton John and Bev looked weary, but then we spotted a Little Chef. We either killed ourselves or had some fun at the nation's favourite diner. We took the latter.
There is something about Little Chef that you just can't describe. I'm not sure if it's the music from 2003, that is so inaudible that it's pree much Morse code, or the 'Mock Living Room Style' lights, but I just can't get enough of it.
I opted for the 'Jubilee Pancakes' (tasty as) whilst Bev and Ray went for a jacket potato with coleslaw and fish and chips respectively. I think we can all say we felt thoroughly nourished and satisfied post eating, and were ready to hit the open yet slow-moving road.
I'm glad silly Mr Blumenthal failed at restyling Little Chef. We do not need any more coffee shop style 'eateries', instead we call for naff paper napkins and reasonably priced all day breakfasts.
Here here. Long live Little Chef.
In other news...
Oh my god, the sky's on fire.
