After the race I was loaded into the Seat of Doom and driven down to Plymouth. On arrival at our guest house I was horrified to see that we were all in the same room. How was I going to sleep through the night? (Mother's note: he didn't)
Decided to take the racing buggy out and so gently proceeded along the cliff of Plymouth Hoe in search of a restaurant to refuel parents and Big Sis. We ended up eating at the Barbican. I say "We" because although I had already had a half pot of baby food the restaurant had a "High Chair".
"What is a "High Chair"?" I hear you ask. It is a brilliant concept, Obviously invented by some unsung be-nappied genius: you sit in it at the level of the table and are fed adult food. I ate monkfish with chilli and ginger, marinated lamb and garlic bread. Yum.
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