A weekend, a break away.  Yes, another one. Hubby decided he needed his ancient hifi amp fixed so we ventured forth to Cambridge.  This apparently, is the only place where the experts can fix it…

Being the efficient person I am (ha ha), I booked a studio apartment. We arrived after many hours of moaning about the traffic and phoned the man to let us in said apartment. After much shouting over balconies, we were finally ushered in by a young polish chap who picked hubby’s bag up and left me to trail behind lugging my bag.

The studio apartment was stunning.  Thank goodness. It had everything. Beautiful bed, fully equipped kitchen, a comfortable seating area with the obligatory flat screen which I knew would not be used and green exotic plants so we could pretend we were not in Cambridge, but in some exotic land.

After unpacking I suggested we go out and get some food because I like cooking and we have a fully equipped kitchen.  Oh yes!

Off we toddled towards a shopping mall when husband realised he’d forgotten The Map. Back he scampered and then everything was fine.  We had the map and could locate Waitrose, the posh supermarket, and bought steaks for our heart attacks.

Returned home and set about cooking the steaks.  Made homemade chips, chopped tomatoes and mushrooms and grilled the steaks.  My husband asked if I had put on the fan.  I hadn’t bothered because I was trying to cope with the unfamiliar cooker and the fact that it wasn’t, em.. fully equipped.  There was one huge sharp knife and no potato peeler or small knives.  I just chopped up the potatoes, slung some butter and ground pepper on and shoved them in the oven.

The the smoke alarm went off.  Really piercing noise!!  As I opened the front door to let clean air in, a frantic man, with long grey hair, asked me if everything was ok and was I burning the dinner?  Me?  Burn food?  I don’t think so.  I told him through the noise, that I was just cooking my dinner and everything WILL BE FINE.  Eventually, I stopped the alarm by waving the bathroom towel under it.

The dinner was lovely and now you have a top tip on how to stop over zealous smoke alarms!  Needless to say, we frequented the local pub that evening, supped some beer, and laughed about the experience.  My husband cooked the breakfast in the morning and guess what?  Yes, it happened again!

Cheers!  Thank you for reading my blog.