Over to the Players Pub across the road for the last Grand Prix of the season. Lewis Hamilton ahead and favoured but teammate Nico Rossberg still in contention. Football game on some screens, but 12 of us watching the race, eight men and four women. Well, three of us women watching and one busy throughout with her mobile. Could have had an F1 app, but if so it must have been much better than mine as she never looked up at the screen. Pint of Guinness each and quite a good race, with Hamilton the winner as predicted.
Booked at 5:30 for Sunday dinner at the First and Last (English) pub. Lovely meal, with the lamb shanks we pre-ordered, Yorkshire pudding, roast and mashed potatoes, and four veg. Whilst on the way to book it yesterday, we stopped to admire a pomegranate tree with dark red fruit on it like Christmas ornaments. This owner kindly gave us a pomegranate but as it was too big for my handbag and we still had errands to do, J secreted it in a hedge round the corner, planning to retrieve it on the way back. I did spot an old lady sweeping her drive nearby and we joked about her taking it. Well, on our return it was gone. Regretted the loss, but worse, began to imagine the man and woman as neighbours conversing. He: Some foreigners admired my pomegranates and I gave them one - they were so pleased. She: That's what you think - they weren't grateful at all and could hardly wait to get round the corner to throw it in my hedge.