The Duck at Ryde: panko prawns, caesar salad, fries

I set my alarm for this morning, just in case I woke up late, but I shouldn’t have worried: just after 8am mum called through my door to ask if she was going to be OK. Once I worked out which way was up, I assured her she would be fine, but that was the end of my sleep.

We then had the usual couple of hours of complaining, and refusing any resolution to those complaints (“my head really hurts”, “there are painkillers if you want them”, “maybe later”. Two minutes later “my head really hurts” 🙄), and refusing to get up, or do anything other than lie in bed complaining.

But my taxi turned up, I got in, and off I went in the company of a very chatty taxi driver. He was a fount of knowledge about the Ryde area, and was happy to share his thoughts on where might work for me in terms of area to move to.

The bungalow I was viewing looked, on Streetview, to be in the middle of fields, but it turned out to be on a little private side-street lined with bungalows. The neighbours were very friendly – one of them offered to bring me a chair while I waited for my taxi – and I was informed that the slightly tatty state of interior would be restored before the next tenant moves in.

What couldn’t be restored away, though, was the kitchen the size of a cupboard – there was roughly enough counter space for a single plate – and a shower perched on a step I would really struggle to climb up. So within two rooms it was a ‘no’, but I looked around anyway, because I’m nosy. It will make a lovely home for someone, but that someone isn’t going to be me.

So I gave a polite “no, thank you”, chatted to the agent doing the viewing and one of the neighbours until my taxi arrived, then headed into town for lunch.

After considerable thought and research (when you get out maybe once a month, every eating opportunity gets detailed consideration), I opted for The Duck, which overlooks the Canoe Lake at Appley, less than a mile along the coast from Ryde.

The word “pretentious” was mentioned in connection with this place, but I didn’t think it was. Bouji, yes, with their wooden plank tables and cocktail / mocktail menu, but not pretentious: they offered ketchup to go with my chips, so they can’t be that fancy!

I sat and sipped a Mango Sunset (mango puree, grenadine, soda) and watched a variety of birds on the lake outside the window: little egret, tufted ducks, mute swans, coots, Canada geese (so many geese!), and something that might have been a little grebe. Or may not have been. 🤷‍♂️

My lunch was delicious: crunchy prawns, crispy and very well salted fries, and a Caesar salad with proper salted anchovies. And cucumber chunks, for some reason, but they tasted good so I won’t pick them up on that anachronism.

Toilets are upstairs, but they have a lift – it’s a moving platform in another cupboard, and more than a little unnerving to ride in, but it does the job of getting you to the next floor.

Then home in time to dispatch mum and Lady Friday to get mum’s watch a new strap, and a peaceful cuddle with an upside-down tabby cat. I finally managed to get in touch with someone about getting help for mum to apply her cream, although all she can do is refer me to the District Nurses. Best part of three weeks of effort from me, to get a referral that will take her 5 minutes. Oh well, at least it’s done.

Mum came home with a mended watch, a box of vegetable samosas, and six packs of biscuits. I cooked the samosas for dinner, then served some hot sponge puddings, then mum said “there better be something more now!” I… I despair, I really do.

Tomorrow I have many things to do, from contacting the council to ask why no council properties are available for me to bid on despite their having approved me for a place on their housing list, to conducting a discussion with a care agency where mum will insist she knew nothing about their visit and doesn’t need any help.

For tonight, though, I just have to stay upright until I can escape to bed and rest my twitching, throbbing legs. Not long now, legs!