Yomping buddy came down for a flying visit over Friday night/Saturday so naturally the three of us went out to dinner on Friday night. We had been told by many that Rivaaz Indian Restaurant in St Thomas Street was worth a visit, so we took a punt and booked a table. Just as well we did. Word has obviously got around and there was a constant stream of disappointed diners being politely turned away throughout the time we were there.

I’m not sure I have ever been to an Indian restaurant which did not have an extensive menu, and whilst not being quite up to War and Peace levels, there is certainly enough of a choice to make for a potentially lengthy deliberation before ordering. Much to my surprise, Wife settled on what she wanted ‘way before me. Let’s be clear for fear of misunderstanding and following retribution, I was not surprised because Wife decided quickly, but because she decided quicker than I. OK, so got that clear then, matrimonial harmony can continue unabated.

They do all the regular dishes you expect, but also do more specialities de la maison. I chose from this part of the menu, but a word to the wise here. A one chilli rating does not mean not very hot, it’s actually at Madras level to give you some idea. I have no clue what the two chilli rated dishes are like, but one chilli is more than enough for me. In fact maybe a tad over more than enough. Nonetheless the Chicken Toofan I had certainly had taste as well as heat. As far as I am concerned, an Indian is not an Indian without onion bhaji and naan bread and the sundries were a match for the main dish in taste and quality.

In common with many diners, we chose our dishes like children in a sweet shop and truth be told we could have made do with rather less in terms of quantity. My excuse was my normal 1Km swim and 2 hour yomp prior to dining. Surely the calories eaten must have been balanced out by such exertion? Stop talking at the back there, and put away your Weight Watchers calorie tables. If you’re interested, when I last checked, they had a pdf of their menu here.

Despite any momentary delusion to the contrary, I was recently forced to acknowledge I am still a soft townie at heart. Having opened the door for Cat to go out, apparently always preferable to the cat-flap, I took a stroll around the garden in the early evening. It’s a funny thing but even in a garden your eye picks out things that are not right or that have been recent additions. Like fox poop on the lawn or a pile of feathers signifying the sparrow hawk has struck again.

Anyway I digress. In this case it was a small honey coloured lump near the Liquid Amber tree. Thinking a gull had deposited the remains of someone’s packed lunch on the grass (don’t go down to the Quay with your lunch unless clasped tightly, no really), I approached it to remove the blot on the lawn. Strangely for a cheese and onion sandwich it appeared to be shivering, but undaunted I continued. Turns out it was not a product of the chiller cabinet at all, more a product of a distinctly more avian kind. At first I thought it must be a duckling since it was covered in down, but on closer inspection it produced a distinctly un-canard like beak and truth be told was a tad larger than you might reasonably expect a duckling to be. As described by Wife, it had the sort of beak it would need to grow into, much as a puppy grows into its ears. Since it was still very much alive she called our vets who said “Oh you need to talk to the Bird Guy, I’ll give you his number”.

Of course there’s a Bird Guy, there’s a guy for everything else around here so why wouldn’t there be a Bird Guy? So we rung him up, described the small miscreant to be told it was in fact a Wood Pigeon chick. Yes it was the progeny of a seemingly never ending dalliance by the two Wood Pigeons who always seem to be ‘at it’ in the garden. And this is when we realised we were still well short of being country folk. We drove half way across the Forest to deposit said small bird into the tender care of the Bird Guy instead of dealing with it ourselves.

As it happens, it was a more than worthwhile trip as, after we saw the little guy settled, we did the tour. Something I didn’t know up to that point was that if you stand too close in front a Tawny Owl in a red shirt (no, I was wearing the shirt) it flies to the front of it’s enclosure and shows you just how impressive its talons are. And very impressive they are too. But the highlight for us was seeing a European Eagle Owl (Scientific Name :Bubo bubo, I kid you not) up close in all its glory. Apparently it had been purchased off the Internet and kept in a wardrobe by some crackheads in Southampton but had been bought by the Bird Guy after the police decided they were not interested. Though not exactly numerous here, there are growing numbers making it across the Channel using their wings rather than the Information Superhighway and are big enough at nearly 70cms to take small deer. Could be a tad tricky to re-home.