Tim Atkinson's Blog, page 83
April 17, 2012
David Hockney's Trees
We were in Bridlington last weekend. In as much as I'm from anywhere, I suppose Bridlington's my home town. (We moved around a bit when I was growing up.) My parents still live there; it's lovely to go up and stay by the sea; and David Hockney is now a resident.
I've yet to see the great man, but I've got a lot to thank him for. Since moving from L.A. David Hockney has put Brid on the map. Which is good for me because I now no longer have to explain - when people ask - where it is. I've had to do that a lot in the past; so much, in fact, that I got tired of it and told everyone I was from Scarborough instead. It's near enough. And people seem to know where that is.
Of course, they now know where Brid is, thanks to David Hockney and his trees. His mother lived in the town and he was a frequent visitor when she was still alive; his brother lived up the road at Flamborough before moving back to West Yorkshire. But now, Britain's greatest living artist lives by the sea on the Yorkshire coast in a previously little-known resort with a small harbour and a rather larger Augustinian Priory.
And he paints trees. Lots of trees. Big trees. Trees in leaf; trees in blossom; trees with branches bare and trees in autumn. I might not have seen him on my latest visit but I did see some rather nice trees. Here's one of them.
Rather nice, don't you think? Perhaps I should start painting them? On an iPad, maybe? Or maybe not. Although I have dabbled (here's one I half-made earlier... can you tell what it is yet?) I'm no competition for the likes of Hockney. Or indeed, anyone. None of my paintings are headed straight for the Guggenheim Museum following a sell out exhibition at the Royal Academy.
But I can look. And - I have to say, having seen his trees - I do look at them differently. Of course, in Brid I can see the same trees he paints and that helps. I've seen them for years, and in all weathers. But the paintings, the video collages and the installations have shown me things I'd never seen before. It's not quite seeing through someone else's eyes but it is a bit like seeing with someone else's brain.
They say that seeing is believing. And I believe the man's a genius. I might not have seen him but I've seen his paintings and I've seen his trees and I'm now looking at things a little differently.
Thanks, Mr Hockney!
I've yet to see the great man, but I've got a lot to thank him for. Since moving from L.A. David Hockney has put Brid on the map. Which is good for me because I now no longer have to explain - when people ask - where it is. I've had to do that a lot in the past; so much, in fact, that I got tired of it and told everyone I was from Scarborough instead. It's near enough. And people seem to know where that is.
Of course, they now know where Brid is, thanks to David Hockney and his trees. His mother lived in the town and he was a frequent visitor when she was still alive; his brother lived up the road at Flamborough before moving back to West Yorkshire. But now, Britain's greatest living artist lives by the sea on the Yorkshire coast in a previously little-known resort with a small harbour and a rather larger Augustinian Priory.
And he paints trees. Lots of trees. Big trees. Trees in leaf; trees in blossom; trees with branches bare and trees in autumn. I might not have seen him on my latest visit but I did see some rather nice trees. Here's one of them.
.JPG)
Rather nice, don't you think? Perhaps I should start painting them? On an iPad, maybe? Or maybe not. Although I have dabbled (here's one I half-made earlier... can you tell what it is yet?) I'm no competition for the likes of Hockney. Or indeed, anyone. None of my paintings are headed straight for the Guggenheim Museum following a sell out exhibition at the Royal Academy.
But I can look. And - I have to say, having seen his trees - I do look at them differently. Of course, in Brid I can see the same trees he paints and that helps. I've seen them for years, and in all weathers. But the paintings, the video collages and the installations have shown me things I'd never seen before. It's not quite seeing through someone else's eyes but it is a bit like seeing with someone else's brain.
They say that seeing is believing. And I believe the man's a genius. I might not have seen him but I've seen his paintings and I've seen his trees and I'm now looking at things a little differently.
Thanks, Mr Hockney!
April 15, 2012
Sunday supplement
Quite an eclectic mix this morning, from vacuum cleaners to canvas prints to online shopping.
To begin at the beginning... vacuum cleaners. I seem to be getting a reputation as a specialist vacuum cleaner blogger. (And I'm not complaining!) I've been rude about a Miele, fallen in love with a Neato and trained Charlie to use a mini version of the Dyson.
Our main household cleaner has hitherto been a Dyson, and I can't say I've ever had any complaints. But the Dyson is a lumbering beast of burden besides the Vax Mach Air Reach.
The latter is as nippy as a sports car by comparison - light, manoeuvrable but with one hell of suck (of you'll pardon the expression). It also has a hose that reaches right to the top of the stairs. And as this was what did for the old Dyson, that's a definite advantage.
I suppose you could quibble about having to attach the hose each time (rather than just pull it out) but that's a minor point. The Vax is every bit the Dyson's equal in terms of suction, a lot lighter (they don't claim it's the lightest full size vacuum for nothing) but with a main thingy-wotsit small enough to fit under furniture and radiators. In short, highly recommended.
From sucking to shopping. Online shopping, that is. First, Bonusprint kindly offered the chance to try their online canvas print ordering service. If doing anything online is going to be better than doing the same thing on the high street it's got to be quick, reliable, good quality and competitively priced. And that includes delivery.
Well, I can't fault the Bonusprint site for ease. Having used it once before it was simplicity itself to upload a photo, tweak it a little and then place the order. And the order was delivered just days later.
Of course, should anything go wrong with an online order you want to be able to return and/or replace things quickly and efficiently. So, to try out the services of Zolando recently I decided to buy some shoes (never easy without trying on). The order comes complete with the guarantee that you 'only ever pay the price shown in our online shop' - in other words, no shipping costs and no returns. As someone who is still baffled by Amazon's free shipping if there's an 'R' in the month and you remember to click the right button and/or order from the right supplier that gets my vote straight away. And - true to their word - the order comes complete with all the instructions you need (and not buried in the small print) to send the goods back should there be a problem.
I haven't actually sent them back. Because they fit, and I like them. But it's good to know how easy it would be if I had to.
Finally, it's time to announce the winner of the crock-pot slow cooker (offered as a giveaway last Wednesday). And for the first time the random factor of Charlie's finger has chosen someone from my Facebook page (just there on the right, just there - see?) and I notice the winner works for Honda Manufacturing in the UK.
To contrive a rather tenuous link, that's the same company my brother-in-law works for (or did). He hasn't changed jobs for years but has represented first Honda F1, Brawn GP and now the Mercedes team at race circuits across the globe. And - on an unscheduled visit to China (he doesn't do all the races any more) - he seems to have tweaked the buttons of the winning car. So congratulations Nico Rosberg, his sparky (and Charlie's uncle) Rob and Nathalie Marshall, who has won a crock-pot slow cooker.
Whatever and however you're cooking this Sunday, do enjoy it.
Have a lovely day.
To begin at the beginning... vacuum cleaners. I seem to be getting a reputation as a specialist vacuum cleaner blogger. (And I'm not complaining!) I've been rude about a Miele, fallen in love with a Neato and trained Charlie to use a mini version of the Dyson.
Our main household cleaner has hitherto been a Dyson, and I can't say I've ever had any complaints. But the Dyson is a lumbering beast of burden besides the Vax Mach Air Reach.
The latter is as nippy as a sports car by comparison - light, manoeuvrable but with one hell of suck (of you'll pardon the expression). It also has a hose that reaches right to the top of the stairs. And as this was what did for the old Dyson, that's a definite advantage.
I suppose you could quibble about having to attach the hose each time (rather than just pull it out) but that's a minor point. The Vax is every bit the Dyson's equal in terms of suction, a lot lighter (they don't claim it's the lightest full size vacuum for nothing) but with a main thingy-wotsit small enough to fit under furniture and radiators. In short, highly recommended.
From sucking to shopping. Online shopping, that is. First, Bonusprint kindly offered the chance to try their online canvas print ordering service. If doing anything online is going to be better than doing the same thing on the high street it's got to be quick, reliable, good quality and competitively priced. And that includes delivery.
Well, I can't fault the Bonusprint site for ease. Having used it once before it was simplicity itself to upload a photo, tweak it a little and then place the order. And the order was delivered just days later.
Of course, should anything go wrong with an online order you want to be able to return and/or replace things quickly and efficiently. So, to try out the services of Zolando recently I decided to buy some shoes (never easy without trying on). The order comes complete with the guarantee that you 'only ever pay the price shown in our online shop' - in other words, no shipping costs and no returns. As someone who is still baffled by Amazon's free shipping if there's an 'R' in the month and you remember to click the right button and/or order from the right supplier that gets my vote straight away. And - true to their word - the order comes complete with all the instructions you need (and not buried in the small print) to send the goods back should there be a problem.
I haven't actually sent them back. Because they fit, and I like them. But it's good to know how easy it would be if I had to.
Finally, it's time to announce the winner of the crock-pot slow cooker (offered as a giveaway last Wednesday). And for the first time the random factor of Charlie's finger has chosen someone from my Facebook page (just there on the right, just there - see?) and I notice the winner works for Honda Manufacturing in the UK.
To contrive a rather tenuous link, that's the same company my brother-in-law works for (or did). He hasn't changed jobs for years but has represented first Honda F1, Brawn GP and now the Mercedes team at race circuits across the globe. And - on an unscheduled visit to China (he doesn't do all the races any more) - he seems to have tweaked the buttons of the winning car. So congratulations Nico Rosberg, his sparky (and Charlie's uncle) Rob and Nathalie Marshall, who has won a crock-pot slow cooker.
Whatever and however you're cooking this Sunday, do enjoy it.
Have a lovely day.
April 13, 2012
April 11, 2012
Slow cooking heaven with Crock-Pot®
We go back a long way, slow cookers and me. Back to my student days, in fact, and the digs Eric Joyce and I once shared and which he - at my request - broke into.
Anyway, being the well organised but poverty-striken student that I was, and having the healthy appetite I've always had I used to get up early (well, ten minutes before I absolutely needed to) fry up some cheap meat and throw some veg into a pot and leave the whole thing simmering away while I attended lectures or taught practice lessons somewhere.
There was something deeply satisfying about knowing - in the midst of whatever chaos I was causing in the capital's schools - that my supper was cooking. It had its drawbacks, of course. The rest of the student household, suitably aroused by the aroma, often appeared on the scrounge just as I began serving out my supper. But, you know what? It didn't matter. There was always enough for everyone. And that habit has stood me in good stead, years later, for feeding a hungry family.
Of course, not being a student any more my equipment has improved immeasurably. And now I've reached the pinnacle of slow cooking technology with the arrival in our household of a Crock-Pot® - The Original Slow Cooker. Here's a little something I rustled up the other day...
And if you'd like to join me (not literally, there's none left) in Crock-Pot® heaven I've got one to giveaway. For a chance to win a Crock-Pot® Cook-and-Carry like the one in the film (rrp £49.99) all you have to do is one (or all) of the following:
Leave a 'crock pot' comment in the box below
'Like' me (or rather, my author page on Facebook - here's the link: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorTimAtkinson
Tweet a link to this post
The competition closes midnight this coming Saturday, so get those entries in quick. Good luck.
And if you'll excuse me, I'm off to do some more (slow) cooking.
Anyway, being the well organised but poverty-striken student that I was, and having the healthy appetite I've always had I used to get up early (well, ten minutes before I absolutely needed to) fry up some cheap meat and throw some veg into a pot and leave the whole thing simmering away while I attended lectures or taught practice lessons somewhere.
There was something deeply satisfying about knowing - in the midst of whatever chaos I was causing in the capital's schools - that my supper was cooking. It had its drawbacks, of course. The rest of the student household, suitably aroused by the aroma, often appeared on the scrounge just as I began serving out my supper. But, you know what? It didn't matter. There was always enough for everyone. And that habit has stood me in good stead, years later, for feeding a hungry family.
Of course, not being a student any more my equipment has improved immeasurably. And now I've reached the pinnacle of slow cooking technology with the arrival in our household of a Crock-Pot® - The Original Slow Cooker. Here's a little something I rustled up the other day...
And if you'd like to join me (not literally, there's none left) in Crock-Pot® heaven I've got one to giveaway. For a chance to win a Crock-Pot® Cook-and-Carry like the one in the film (rrp £49.99) all you have to do is one (or all) of the following:
Leave a 'crock pot' comment in the box below
'Like' me (or rather, my author page on Facebook - here's the link: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorTimAtkinson
Tweet a link to this post
The competition closes midnight this coming Saturday, so get those entries in quick. Good luck.
And if you'll excuse me, I'm off to do some more (slow) cooking.
April 9, 2012
Ivor the Engine
Ah, Bank Holiday Monday!
Personally, I can think of no better way of spending a wet one than in the gently nostalgic embrace of Ivor the Engine - a bank holiday bargain at just £3.49 (of my own money - this ain't no sponsored post) or else The Clangers or some other piece of Smallfilms perfection from the genius team of Oliver Postgate and Peter Firmin. So far this morning, Ivor's hatched a dragon, sung in the Eisteddfod and saved a fox. All in a day's work on the The Merioneth and Llantisilly Rail Traction Company Limited.
Later we'll be making the acquaintance of the soup dragon and the iron chicken, or perhaps paying a trip to Camberwick Green, singing 'Time flies by' on the train to Chigley and joining Captain Flack in the Trumpton Fire Brigaged roll call (Pugh, Pugh, Barney MacGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble, Grub).
Over the years I've made quite a collection of classic children's TV programmes. Sometimes (like this morning) I even let Charlie watch them. And I'm glad to say he's as captivated by them as I used to be. (What am I saying, 'used to be.' Still am!)
All of which leads to the inevitable conclusion that we were lucky - so lucky - to have them all as a part of our childhoods. We may only have had a short slot before the news at six o'clock or an hour or two on a Saturday morning but perhaps because the time was so short, the programmes were so good.
Of course kids today have the untold riches of CBeebies. Personally, though, I can't help thinking that the old ones are the best. And you can find most of them somewhere on YouTube. It makes a happy hunting ground on a wet Bank Holiday Monday. Here's one I found earlier...
What will you go hunting for today?
Personally, I can think of no better way of spending a wet one than in the gently nostalgic embrace of Ivor the Engine - a bank holiday bargain at just £3.49 (of my own money - this ain't no sponsored post) or else The Clangers or some other piece of Smallfilms perfection from the genius team of Oliver Postgate and Peter Firmin. So far this morning, Ivor's hatched a dragon, sung in the Eisteddfod and saved a fox. All in a day's work on the The Merioneth and Llantisilly Rail Traction Company Limited.
Later we'll be making the acquaintance of the soup dragon and the iron chicken, or perhaps paying a trip to Camberwick Green, singing 'Time flies by' on the train to Chigley and joining Captain Flack in the Trumpton Fire Brigaged roll call (Pugh, Pugh, Barney MacGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble, Grub).
Over the years I've made quite a collection of classic children's TV programmes. Sometimes (like this morning) I even let Charlie watch them. And I'm glad to say he's as captivated by them as I used to be. (What am I saying, 'used to be.' Still am!)
All of which leads to the inevitable conclusion that we were lucky - so lucky - to have them all as a part of our childhoods. We may only have had a short slot before the news at six o'clock or an hour or two on a Saturday morning but perhaps because the time was so short, the programmes were so good.
Of course kids today have the untold riches of CBeebies. Personally, though, I can't help thinking that the old ones are the best. And you can find most of them somewhere on YouTube. It makes a happy hunting ground on a wet Bank Holiday Monday. Here's one I found earlier...
What will you go hunting for today?
April 6, 2012
...and something better than the box
Further to the box which has been keeping us amused so far this week (see Tuesday's post if you think I'm referring to some little-known Eric Sykes comedy) I thought today I'd tell you about something else that's been giving us hours of innocent entertainment this holiday. We do buy toys for Charlie, occasionally; we don't always make him play with refuse. But in the case of the LeapFrog Tag we didn't even have to buy it as they sent us one to review.
The best way I can describe the Tag Magic Pen is this: it's like a computer game, only without the computer. Or maybe like your very own, hand held robot teacher, patiently enunciating all the words while gently asking questions and imparting information. The pen reads stories, makes characters speak and brings static pages to life.
You need to download the relevant software, of course (think teacher doing a lesson plan) as well as get a special book - or in our case, map. There's an impressive range available from classics such as Paddington Bear and Cat in the Hat, to contemporary characters like Ben 10, Dora the Explorer, Scooby Doo and a whole lot more.
As well as books there are interactive displays like the Tag World Map they sent to Charlie (appropriately enough with a mum who's a geography teacher and a dad who's the author of a couple of geography text books). And you can see for yourself what he thinks both of the map and the sample book in this short video.
I think you'll agree we might just have found something more interesting to play with than a cardboard box!
April 3, 2012
The Box
It's true what they say about kids and toys. Give 'em five minutes and they'll be playing with the box. Although this box contained not toys but the new Britax Trifix Group 1 car seat, billed as the 'safest and most beautifully engineered car seat from Britax yet' and the first to feature 'a revolutionary ISOFIX + installation system.'
For the record, the seat looks good and boasts 'compete and unrivalled protection for your little one'
by combing three unique technologies including what is known as a V-tether, which acts as a third anchorage point and which absorbs frontal forces.
But the box, well...
The box is great.
For the record, the seat looks good and boasts 'compete and unrivalled protection for your little one'
by combing three unique technologies including what is known as a V-tether, which acts as a third anchorage point and which absorbs frontal forces.
But the box, well...
The box is great.
March 30, 2012
Secrets will be revealed!
'Secrets will be revealed' they say. And they certainly are at the Warner Brothers Studio Tour - The Making of Harry Potter. The newly-constructed J & K studios (coincidence, apparently!) at the Leavesden film complex include just about everything from the films, from the set of Hogwarts to the Hermione's hair-clips.
Whether you're a hardened Harry Potter fan or - like me - someone with no more than a passing interest in the books or whether - like Charlie - you're so young you've barely even heard of the Potter phenomenon, there'll be plenty to not only keep you interested, to satisfy you that the ticket price (£28 adults, £21 children or £83 for a family ticket) is money well spent and to have you 'phoning friends to say you'll be at least an hour later leaving the attraction than you'd planned, but - to use an entirely appropriate cliché - it will also leave you spell bound!
There's simply nothing like it: sets, costumes, props, displays, special effects are all there in abundance. You can fly on Harry's broomstick, chop the Weasley's carrots or do their washing up (by magic, obviously!) as well as board the Knight Bus, walk down Privet Drive or window shop in Diagon Alley.
And yes, secrets are revealed. But what they are would be telling. Anyway, none could perhaps have been quite as big as that being revealed by this post. Because the thing is, I kept our visit last weekend from my Harry Potter-obsessed sister. Having been offered a couple of review tickets, my guest place had to go to Sarah's mum who lives nearby and who put us up for the weekend.
Sorry, Nic - but never mind. Here's a small taster. And it's worth the money!
STOP PRESS!
If you'd like to hear me discuss what I thought of the attraction (as well as reading about it) I was interviewed briefly on BBC Lincolnshire's Drivetime programme this afternoon. You can listen to the feature (which includes an interview with actor Rupert Grint) here...
Key facts:
All tickets for the studio tours must be pre-booked at www.wbstudiotour.co.uk or through an approved supplier. No tickets will be available to buy at the attraction.
Tours are pre-booked into 30 minute timeslots throughout the day to ensure a regulated flow of visitors and take around three hours. Audio guides are available and refreshments can be bought on site.
The studios open at 10 a.m. and the last tour begins at 4 p.m. except at weekends and school holidays when last tour begins at 6 p.m.
Watford Junction station is 20 minutes by train from London Euston and a free shuttle bus takes visitors to Leavesden. There is free parking on site for those travelling by car, and the studios are less than three miles from both the M1 and M25.
March 28, 2012
Make fresh pasta with Aldo Zilli
At the launch of MFEST at Morrison's HQ recently we had an opportunity to do something I love - namely, watch someone else, an expert, do the cooking.
I do love watching other people cook; I love cookery programmes on the telly; and it turns out Charlie quite likes watching a chef at work, too. He's certainly not in any way in awe of Aldo Zilli as he makes fresh pasta for the assembled bloggers (Jen, Cass, Annwen).
The basic recipe involves 200g of flour (plus extra for dusting), a pinch of salt, a little semolina,
2 medium eggs plus1 egg yolk and a little water. And you don't even need a pasta cutter. Although Signore Zilli cut some of his pasta on what looked like a small harp, you can simply roll the dough and cut it with a knife (as he did, off camera).
Oh, and talking of cameras, if the footage is shaky it's because I had an excited one-year-old on my knee. It's a wonder I got anything worth watching when you think about it. But worth watching it was. And the result was certainly worth eating!
I do love watching other people cook; I love cookery programmes on the telly; and it turns out Charlie quite likes watching a chef at work, too. He's certainly not in any way in awe of Aldo Zilli as he makes fresh pasta for the assembled bloggers (Jen, Cass, Annwen).
The basic recipe involves 200g of flour (plus extra for dusting), a pinch of salt, a little semolina,
2 medium eggs plus1 egg yolk and a little water. And you don't even need a pasta cutter. Although Signore Zilli cut some of his pasta on what looked like a small harp, you can simply roll the dough and cut it with a knife (as he did, off camera).
Oh, and talking of cameras, if the footage is shaky it's because I had an excited one-year-old on my knee. It's a wonder I got anything worth watching when you think about it. But worth watching it was. And the result was certainly worth eating!
March 24, 2012
Should've gone to Specsavers
Actually, I DID go to Specsavers - at their invitation - to review the service given to a busy parent with two kids in tow and in need of an eye-examination. Here's what I found:
1. Unlike many shop/service workers (I'm thinking doctor's receptionists especially - or is that just me?) if the people working at my local branch DID object to Charlie trying on every pair of glasses in the shop and to me manoeuvring a push-chair round their rather modest premises, they didn't show it. And I was only making an appointment for an eye-test at the time.
2. On arrival for said appointment (and without Charlie this time but still manoeuvring that push-chair) I was pleased (or so I thought) to be given some material for my review straight away. Aha! Three of us, all booked in at nine-thirty. They're doing an NHS on us and treating us all like hospital consultants do. But no, not only were there three technicians for the initial eye examination, there were three opticians too.
3. Mine was a rather taciturn but thoroughly efficient chap, lacking a little in bedside manner maybe but otherwise fine. And anyway, who wants chit chat? The man has a job to do. And do it he did. Rather well. Still unaware of the voucher in my pocket paying for my review, the optician talked me through the details of my prescription and said I really didn't need new glasses. Everything was fine, he assured me. Come back in two years.
4. I actually went back last week - to pick up the specs he'd said I didn't need. Because - as I was asked the review their entire service, and as they were paying (well, contributing towards the cost - I did end up paying a small amount myself thanks to the small print) and as I fancied a new pair anyway (something slightly stronger, more baby-proof) I decided to test drive their range of frames.
5. The first - well, only - thing to say is that if it says £99 on the frames, that's what you pay. Simple! Having been stung before at an (unnamed) High Street competitor by an additional charge for lenses (as if I wanted a piece of empty facial furniture to wear) I was more than pleasantly surprised and not a little reassured. Because - as I ended up paying extra both for photochromic lenses and for an anti-glare coating - I was pleased that their transparent pricing meant the mental calculations I was doing weren't too challenging.
6. Actually, that was the only drawback as far as I was concerned. Because you - dear reader - would, should you wish, be entitled to free photochromic lenses and even a free second pair of glasses. But the 'not in conjunction with any other offer' small print meant I wasn't. Still, that was a small price to pay (about fifty quid, if you're asking) both for an eye test and a smart new pair of specs.
What do you think?
1. Unlike many shop/service workers (I'm thinking doctor's receptionists especially - or is that just me?) if the people working at my local branch DID object to Charlie trying on every pair of glasses in the shop and to me manoeuvring a push-chair round their rather modest premises, they didn't show it. And I was only making an appointment for an eye-test at the time.
2. On arrival for said appointment (and without Charlie this time but still manoeuvring that push-chair) I was pleased (or so I thought) to be given some material for my review straight away. Aha! Three of us, all booked in at nine-thirty. They're doing an NHS on us and treating us all like hospital consultants do. But no, not only were there three technicians for the initial eye examination, there were three opticians too.
3. Mine was a rather taciturn but thoroughly efficient chap, lacking a little in bedside manner maybe but otherwise fine. And anyway, who wants chit chat? The man has a job to do. And do it he did. Rather well. Still unaware of the voucher in my pocket paying for my review, the optician talked me through the details of my prescription and said I really didn't need new glasses. Everything was fine, he assured me. Come back in two years.
4. I actually went back last week - to pick up the specs he'd said I didn't need. Because - as I was asked the review their entire service, and as they were paying (well, contributing towards the cost - I did end up paying a small amount myself thanks to the small print) and as I fancied a new pair anyway (something slightly stronger, more baby-proof) I decided to test drive their range of frames.
5. The first - well, only - thing to say is that if it says £99 on the frames, that's what you pay. Simple! Having been stung before at an (unnamed) High Street competitor by an additional charge for lenses (as if I wanted a piece of empty facial furniture to wear) I was more than pleasantly surprised and not a little reassured. Because - as I ended up paying extra both for photochromic lenses and for an anti-glare coating - I was pleased that their transparent pricing meant the mental calculations I was doing weren't too challenging.
6. Actually, that was the only drawback as far as I was concerned. Because you - dear reader - would, should you wish, be entitled to free photochromic lenses and even a free second pair of glasses. But the 'not in conjunction with any other offer' small print meant I wasn't. Still, that was a small price to pay (about fifty quid, if you're asking) both for an eye test and a smart new pair of specs.
What do you think?
