Bunty Takes Sanctuary at the Manor

   

Cynthia and Crichton Join the Gym

Crichton’s new regime all started with the FITBIT that Arraminta gave him for Christmas.           

   'You’re getting plump, Pa,’ she said as she handed it over, which was rather unkind I thought.  She’s right of course, but I could never say such a thing. He’s now taken to walking to work from the flat everyday, sucking in lungfuls of carbon monoxide in the London streets, trying to get his step count up. On Friday he narrowly missed being run over by a pizza delivery boy and came home with a blister the size of a bathpug on his heel. Anyway, the long and the short of things is that we have decided it would be safer to join a gym. So Crichton made an appointment at Lugg Leisure, for us to both go along for a look-see.

   It’s ‘a gym’ in the widest sense of the word. A room in the basement does have nasty machines and young men in shorts but it’s really a health and leisure club, with the emphasis very much on the leisure sideof things. I couldn’t be more thrilled. Monica and the tribe go there all the time apparently.  That's how she knows Knut. 

There are two lovely pools…one with NO CHILDREN (which gets my vote) saunas, steam rooms and a little café on the wet side. We were made to wear blue plastic overshoes before we could enter. Very sensible, given the possibility of unpleasantness on Crichton’s brogues. We will get Brexit house trained eventually I’m sure. 

There’s also a fab little bar/restaurant called the Pelican’s Nest. Crichton insisted we both had the Kedgeree…very dry I thought.  He’ll be up all night saying that the smoked haddock has given him indigestion.

We both signed up for an induction, whatever that is, and thought I’d give Yoga and Aquafit a try. Crichton has ‘plumped’ for Spin as an easy option. How difficult can sitting on a bicycle be?

   Obviously I shall need new outfits and I have spent hours browsingthe internet for sportswear, but there is SO MUCH to choose from that I’ve decided that I need to try things on before I make up my mind. I rang Catherine to see if she is free for a meet up in town next week and she said, yes she can definitely fit me in for a coffee. She will photographing some photographs at the V and A on Monday if I’d care to join her, so I shall cadge a lift with Crichton, weather permitting. 

A flurry of snow at tea time. Arraminta phoned. She sounds a little chirpier.

Crichton Comments

Popped into Super Sports for new daps and a pair of shorts and was served by George Milner, that spotty ex-paramour of Arraminta’s. Cheeky young blighter asked me if I was new to sport and had I been checked by my GP. Apparently, he had a customer last week who had a stroke doing press ups in the garden and tried to blame the store. I refused his offer a free water bottle if I bought a pack of five towelling socks. Clearly not divisible by two!