Autumn Walk

We had a quick walk in the forest today to appreciate the colours. For J it was also an opportunity to try his new camera and lens.

A day to remember

J with the red roses

I have wanted to go to Raymond Blanc's Le Manoir Aux Quat' Saisons for a long time, so with a milestone birthday this year I knew I had the perfect opportunity.

It was booked back in April and we finally got there yesterday, day of my birthday.

The attention to detail is second to none. The moment we arrived, staff came out to welcome us and take our cases. We were then shown straight to our room. No nonsense with checking in and presenting credit cards!

Our room, Crystal, was wonderful. We had the celebration package and a table groaned with twelve perfect Grand Prix roses, a bottle of Champagne on ice, a bottle of Madeira, hand-made chocolates and a selection of fruit.

The marbled bathroom had a huge walk-shower, a huge bath with candles and big crystal bottles of unguents plus heavenly scented slabs of soap.

We immediately went for a walk in the gardens to catch the last tentative rays of sunshine. Here is my picture of the lily pond in the Japanese garden.

There are wonderful sculptures everywhere, reclining figures, figures relaxing with books. At this time of year the main vegetables growing in the veg beds were chard, beetroot and cabbage.

After a heavenly scented bath with candles and Strictly Come Dancing (Jimi voted off -a travesty!), we had a pre-dinner apertif and perused the menu. There were three options: the decouverte tasting menu, the classic menu and the a la carte menu of seasonal specialities. We chose the latter.

Now, if I am brutally honest, I must tell you that the food didn't quite live up to expectations. One of the things I love most about haute cuisine is the complex layering of flavours and the unexpected frisson of delight when you sample something unexpected. But reader, I must tell you, the food at Le Manoir was one-dimensional. The menu promised all sorts of exotic capers but in the main one or two flavours dominated and drowned out the rest.

Cauliflower soup

Chef Gary Jones' amuse bouche was a cup and saucer of cauliflower soup, a confident start with a strong garlic truffle oil providing the oomph that cauliflower needs. 

We both chose plancha-seared Cornish lobster with warm Jersey Royal potatoes, Oscietra caviar, cardamom and red pepper jus.

Cornish lobster

My initial reaction was that the heavy hitter in the cauliflower soup was also at play here, drowning out the flavour of the lobster. J said quite spontaneously that the lobster was a little disappointing.

My duck

My main was roasted Gressingham duck breast with braised chicory and confit of yuzu fruit; jasmine tea and raisin sauce. This was ruined by the very thin sauce poured over the duck and a very powerful orange sauce. Although orange isn't mentioned anywhere, I guess yuzu fruit must taste very similar. The duck itself was a little tough and the vegetables actually quite soft.

J's beef

J fared better with sirloin of beef, which isn't shown on the online menu so I can't tell you everything it came with. In typical J fashion, he did note there could have been more potatoes.

We didn't have a dessert but went straight to the cheese board. The trolley was left languishing by our table for about 10 minutes before the waiter said "oh, looks like I'd better do this." Fortunately the cheeses were not too fragrant, otherwise it may have been a little off putting for the couple next to us.

A nice touch was the banana and passion fruit sorbet complete with candle and Happy Birthday motif for me.


Rounded off with "chocolate discovery" for me (hot chocolate) and tea for J in the lounge - which took about 30 minutes to materialise -  a thoroughly lovely experience but somehow making me think the chef has maybe become a little complacent. It was nowhere as good as Gidleigh Park in Devon, which also has two Michelin stars, where I went a few weeks ago.

Waking this morning, tea arrived dead on 8am as scheduled and breakfast was delicious. We plumped for the full English but Le Manoir excels in healthy choices with delicious fruit salads and seeds, fruits and nuts all meticulously labelled with their countries of origin. The sausage was, I am sure, 90% meat with none of that nasty rusk. 



All in all, a fabulous experience but if Le Manoir is to deliver Raymond Blanc's vision of unsurpassed customer service and gastronomy, they need to step up just a gear or two.

A Strictly Come Dancing travesty prepares to unfold

I have been very restrained up to now and not mentioned Strictly Come Dancing, or The Apprentice ("what's that?") once.

But now that the glitter has settled on SCD, and we know who's good and who we like and don't like, I couldn't resist adding my two'pennorth.

Strictly Come Dancing, for the benefit of my US chums, is the TV show that led to what you call "Dancing with the Stars." The UK version includes two of the judges who grace your show, Len and Bruno, plus we have the acerbic Craig Revel-Horwood - "in three words, my darling, OMG" - and the foolish former contestant and Muttley impersonator Alesha Dixon - "you was brilliant."

This year the BBC changed the rules and the public decides who goes out each week. You will remember that previously there was a dance-off between the bottom two, and then the judges decided. The hapless John Sergeant managed to survive for quite a while with the public keeping him safe, but eventually quit when he realised there was a chance he might end up in the final.

This year the judges have no decision-making power, and so I am convinced that Ann Widdecombe, the Tory MP, will make, and possibly win, the final.

I don't deny that it is very entertaining seeing the routine that Anton Du Beke creates each week. Highlights have included Ann being lowered to the floor in a harness like a gigantic flapping Dumbo, and on Saturday, in a memorable paso doble, being hurled to the floor and then bouncing  like a scene from The Dam Buster, followed by Anton swinging her around like a sack of potatoes (pictured.)

It is, as Len said on It Takes Two, rather like a motorway crash when you're on the other side of the road but you can't help looking.

I'm sure the BBC changed the rules to encourage more votes to make more money. Many people are obviously keen to keep Ann in, and unlike John Sergeant, she doesn't seem abashed about not being very good.

But we need to remind ourselves this is a dance competition, and there are contestants who are fabulously good, and amaze us with their stunning routines each week. I don't think it will be fair if Widdecombe wins at the expense of Scott Maslen, Jimi Mistry, Pamela Stephenson or Matt Baker, all outstanding in my view. And bravo to Pamela for showing that women over the age of 60 can still be vibrant, sexy and fabulous.

Apple bobbing for Halloween? Too dangerous

We all love a good story about the excesses of "elf and safety.

This Halloween, there's a warning from Southampton University Hospitals NHS Trust that some of the ancient games associated with the pagan festival are dangerous.

Apple bobbing, for example, runs the risk of "a high velocity impact with an apple". Not to mention serious eye injury from unclean water. The recommendation is to wear goggles, disinfect water containers and remove apple debris before dunking your head into the water.

One eye expert even suggests children should remove the apples with their hands, not their mouths, but I can't see much fun in that as a game. I suppose you could play it all year round. "Johnny, please pick up some apples for Mummy," at Sainsbury's each week.

It's not only apple bobbing that is dangerous. Fancy-dress contact lenses come in for attack, as they can cause irritation, and as for lanterns, well, people occasionally hit their head on them.

Take care this Halloween and hopefully enjoy the pagan revels without too much damage!

Baby gorilla born at London Zoo

I know you all like a bit of good news, so here's a heart warming story about the first baby gorilla to be born at London Zoo for over twenty years.

Mother Mjukuu and baby, left, are both doing well. The  baby's aunties, Zaire and Effie, were at the birth and have remained with Mjukuu throughout.

Staff at the zoo are now figuring out the delicate operation of introducing the baby to his stepfather, Kesho.

The tiny baby will grow into a 25 stone silverback gorilla.

Feel free to send me your good news snippets!

Guest blog: Carry On Embrocating. My second Amsterdam Marathon

I'm handing over the blog today to my spouse, the mysterious J, for his account of his second Amsterdam marathon (his 22nd marathon in total). J went with members of his running club, the Orion Harriers.

Take it away J.

This was my second trip to the Amsterdam marathon, scene of my 1st sub 4hr triumph in 2007.
Training for this run had been indifferent, so I had no real feel for my optimum pace for this race. Ideal conditions, cool with winter sunshine.

Good atmosphere at the start, Julie and I prepped together and got a good pen position quite close to the start line. Got off to a good start, let Julie go after a few minutes and settled down to an average 5mins per Km pace which was a pleasant surprise to me.

Kept close eye on HR (heart rate) but stayed with this pace, so again my performance on the day was well above expectations from training. Went through 1/2 in 1:46:37 well on pace for a pb (personal best), my aim was to keep in the low 5 to 5:30 Km's during the later stages and this was working well.

Around mile 24 got bad cramp in right calf and had to pull up couldn't keep going. Tried calf stretch and tried again -- no good, did some hamstring stretches which eased the problem and allowed me slowly get started again. After a few minutes gamely jogging back to pace the same thing happened to left calf - seized up, more stretches got me going again slowly. At this time I was convinced I'd blown any potential for a pb so settled in for a slow finish.

When I got to the 40km sign (only 2 km left) and saw the current time, I realised there was still a chance to get close to a pb. Legs were by now not doing well with cramps coming and going over the last 2k's, tried to raise pace all the way in, very emotional including talking to myself ovr the last k to keep the effort going. Once over the line not sure of eventual time, when I checked my Garmin it showed 4 secs outside a personal best -  very disappointing. So lost around 4 mins to cramps and stretches, overall got to be delighted with this run and the time - didn't look anywhere as good as this in training. my 3rd 3:43 marathon on the trot....

John Barrowman - reviewed by Giz

My mum, known to us inexplicably as "Giz," is 77 but in possession of all her faculties plus a great deal of energy. She is social secretary to two or three widows' associations and her social life seems to be a merry blur of coach trips and lunches. She books speakers and is currently booking for 2012 (I am not joking).

Last week she went with three ladies I uncharitably call "the beige set" to see John Barrowman at the Plymouth Pavilions.

My mum always wears bright colours: she says she refuses to merge into the background and be ignored. The Beige Set, however, always wear beige (and not just because it's having a trendy moment.)

Anyway, Giz and I exchanged a flurry of texts after the show. I taught her how to text a few years ago. She has taught most of her friends, athough is very scathing of the one who still writes in capitals all the time. She has a package of 800 texts a month and most of them are to me.

Here is the conversation in verbatim. Remember we were texting, hence the spelling:

Me: How was JB?
Giz: Wonderful. Wot a performer. Audience went mad 4 him. Jodi Prenger 2.
Me: Any screaming?
Giz: Yes loads. Shouting we luv u Jetc. Few stoic men. Kept saying he was gay. Nice being 4 of us cos they r nice ladies.

So there you have it. I've always wondered why it is that older ladies swarm to see John Barrowman and scream, even though it's well known he's gay. Answers on a postcard please.

Weston-Super-Mare's Pier reopens

Today's good news concerns the pier at Weston-Super-Mare. Two years the pavilion was destroyed by fire, but now it's been rebuilt and will reopen tomorrow.

I've written before about my love of the pier. They are so iconic, so quintissentially British. And usually when they are destroyed by fire or fall into disrepair, they aren't replaced.

Just recently, Hastings Pier was in the news after it was burnt down by arsonists. What is it with these people?

 Anyway, back top Weston-Super-Mare, where people are expected to queue overnight to get to be the first to visit the refurbished pier. 

First opened in 1907, the pier is a grade II listed building. More than £39 million has been spent on it.

My earlier story in 2008 about piers, following the destruction of Fleetwood Pier by fire, is here. Join the National Piers Society here.

Pink Floyd: the Good News

I'm feeling like Cyril Fletcher in That's Life. Today I am indebted to......Nicky in Belgium for today's good news snippet.

Nicky discovered that Pink Floyd were reuniting, which, depending on your view of the band, may be good or bad news.

But what's good is that they're doing it for charity, unlike a lot of greedy oldsters (yes Spandau Ballet, Status Quo and Genesis, I mean you.)

Best lunch ever at Gidleigh Park

One of my hobbies is eating my way around Britain and I have been to quite a few notable nosheries including Le Gavroche, Gordon Ramsay at Claridge's, Maze and The Fat Duck.

But these all paled into insignificance against Michael Caines' two Michelin starred Gidleigh Park restaurant  near Chagford in Devon.

Giz and I went there for Sunday lunch and it was just exquisite!

The hotel is in beautiful grounds in a very peaceful location. It is relaxed and elegant, with the superb, unotrusive service that you expect in a place like this.

After canapes in the lounge as we chose from the menu, we were shown to our table and first to arrive was a complimentary artichoke soup in a tiny glass accompanied by superb artisan bread, crusty on the outside and soft and melting inside as so many bread rolls aren't.

My first course was salmon confit and my main was Devonshire sirloin which came with a cep shaped ravioli filled with delicious braised shin. I would like to tell you all the different components but unfortunately the particular menu we had isn't shown on the website.

We both had an apple plate to finish, which had three apple desserts lined up: tarte tatin, lemon mousse and a lemon biscuit with ice cream, plus a tiny jug with warm apple jus. To die for!

I've added photos of what I ate. Not great quality but I had to take them with my BlackBerry. The camera was with J, who at this time was running the Amsterdam Marathon and finishing at 3 hour 43, which is very good.

We opted for coffee and petit fours in the lounge. I was expecting a couple of hand-made chocolates but it was like another course: three tiny perfectly made desserts on a wooden tray. An apple doughnut, a blackcurrant posset and a chocolate, hand tempered. We couldn't have eaten another thing, so just as well we didn't go for the tasting menu.

The only drawback to this wonderful place was the very windy and narrow country lane leading to the hotel. Unsuitable for heavy vehicles, it had hardly any passing places and for a townie driving a new car was a bit of a white knuckle ride. But well worth it for the experience that followed.

TODAY'S GOOD NEWS

Three decades ago, the otter population was at risk of extinction because of chemicals and poor quality waterways. Now the riverbanks are filled to bursting with otters. Good news indeed!

Plymouth gets Christmas makeover

As you read this, dear reader, I will be gallivanting in my ancestral home - Devon - and reclaiming my Four Square mayorship of the power station next door to my mum's house.

So it is apt that today's good news story features my former home city of Plymouth.

Plymouth is to get its Winter Festival complete with ice rink.

The Winter Festival will start with the Christmas lights switch-on on Thursday, November 18. It will feature the Christmas Ice Rink on the Piazza, festive shows at the Pavilions, Christmas markets, Sleeping Beauty at the Theatre Royal, the Christmas Carnival, late-night shopping, festive street entertainment and a special 'Santa fun run'.

I will hopefully get to see some of this when I go down to Plymouth later this year to deliver the presents.

And if my mum wasn't excited enough about enjoying the delights of Gidleigh Park, our lunch destination today, she will be beside herself next Thursday when she and one of her widows' associations go to see John Barrowman at the Plymouth Pavilions. A full report to follow. Gird your loins.

Heifer rescue went well

Continuing the theme of good news stories, I am indebted to Fran of South Cerney for this heart warmer about a heifer rescue that went well.

The Wilts & Gloucs Standard reports how the heifer was hauled to safety by firefighters after falling down a well at Crudwell. The 12-month-old animal plunged through the cover of a 10ft deep well at Hayleaze Farm, but landed upright in the water and mud.

A crew from Malmesbury was on the scene first and made it safe before a specialist animal rescue team from Stratton arrived. Rural safety officer Adam Martin explained: "The cow was in an extremely confined space and would have been very frightened by what had happened, so the challenge was to get her sedated and then lifted free.

"The water was drained from the well, which allowed the vet access to carry out sedation. It was then safe for us to get down to her and put strops around her."

All's well that ends well.

Today's good news

I can tell you that I have bitten off more than I can chew with my pledge to find some good news every day.
A trawl of BBC news and local paper websites revealed a litany of bad, bad news.  Eventually I found a heart warming titbit at the Croydon Advertiser.

For 70 years, the South Norwood and Woodside branch of the Women's Section of the Royal British Legion have been meeting up once a month to socialise and organise fundraisers.

The ladies are celebrating their 70th anniversary and preparing for Poppy Day. But they desperately need new members. "We've not had any young people join us for a good 20 years," said Secretary Ann Sparshott. "We need some young people in to help us with the fundraising and the lifting and carrying which comes with putting on our events.


"The support the Legion provides is going to go through the generations. It's rewarding to hear when people get the help they need. It brings tears to your eyes. I think it's a brilliant cause."

And now the good news

The triumphant rescue of the Chilean miners yesterday was a wonderfully uplifting story that had people all around the world sobbing as we shared in their joy.

It got me thinking about how rare it is that we rejoice in a good news story.

The media happily feeds us stories of hoodies with knives, drunken promiscuous teenagers, men killing their own children and so on without putting them into perspective. The impression is that society is out of control and nothing good ever happens.

Any good news stories are buried away or become "fillers" if they're used at all.

So I'm going to try to find a good news story every day. It won't be good news as in Tom Daley wins two gold medals, or interest rates come down. That's the sort of good news that is shared by the media. I'm talking about stories of human interest and kindness. Here's hoping I can find some! And please share any of your own stories.

One story that has stayed with me over the years was an item about an Albanian refugee ship. No countries would accept the refugees, who were on an unseaworthy vessel out in the ocean. They had been turned away by an Italian port. But when they landed at a Greek island, instead of turning them away, the locals rushed down to greet them with blankets and sandwiches.

In a similar vein, last winter's heavy snow brought out the goodness in people who offered rooms to strangers who were trapped in their cars.

That's the sort of stories we need folks!

Today's award for being out-of-touch and slightly preposterous: Andrew Marr

BBC political correspondent Andrew Marr is in the news himself today for describing bloggers as 'socially inadequate, pimpled, single, slightly seedy young men' who give journalism a bad name.

Speaking at the Cheltenham Literary Festival, Marr said: "A lot of bloggers seem to be socially inadequate, pimpled, single, slightly seedy, bald, cauliflower-nosed, young men sitting in their mother's basements and ranting. They are very angry people.".

Er, hello?

I'm not sure what sites Marr has been visiting, but Mashable, noted authority on social media, tells us the majority of bloggers are women.

There are a few "angry" sites: for example, http://ihateryanair.co.uk/ is also in the news today, which is a good example, but sites like these are usually doing a good job. Power to the people! Companies, utilities and politicians can't get away with anything lilke they used to, because of the vigilance of pesky spotty people on the web.

Of course Marr is approaching this from a defensive stand point. Does blogging present a challenge to newspapers and TV news over the next few years?

Undoubtedly yes, in terms of speed of breaking news. No TV station or news agency can respond as fast as Twitter, as we have seen with recent major stories. Nearly everyone has a camera phone, therefore we can all make and share news as it happens.

But blogs and online media present news in small chunks, and I believe that paper copies of newspapers will still thrive because people want their analysis and comment.

In the meantime, I suggest Mr Marr visits some of the blogs in my blog roll to see that some of the content is written by entirely sane people with perfectly good complexions, and none of us living with our mothers.

We go to Buckingham Palace

J's picture of the Queen Victoria memorial, Pall Mall

That's stretching the truth slightly, but we did go to the Queen's Gallery which is within the palace. We had a day off for J's birthday and I booked the visit to the  Victoria & Albert Love & Art exhibition a few months ago, after we saw the film Young Victoria.

I don't know about you but I've always thought of   Queen Victoria as a dumpy, sour faced woman in black. But it turns out, that was in the second part of her reign after her husband Albert died, aged just 42. In the years they were married they were very happy and the exhibition shows the works of art, sculpture and jewellery that they commissioned for each other.

Was the Queen at home?

 Victoria more or less lost interest in art after Albert's death. She commissioned some wonderful works to commemorate his life, including the Albert Memorial in Kensington Gardens, but the rest of her life was spent in mourning, with the room in which Albert died lovingly kept as it was.

I loved the picture of Victoria that was given to Albert as a birthday presen (left). Her shoulders are bare, her hair cascades over her shoulder and she looks sensuous and wanton.

Very few examples of her costumes survive but the exhibition had a sumptuous dress which showed Victoria had a tiny waist when she was slim.

I loved seeing the watercolours and drawings that she did. She was a talented artist but being Queen it was difficult for her to paint so she mainly indulged in her hobby when she was with her family.

The exhibition has been extended until early December. Check it out here

Who talks about sad men?

Reading a few biographies lately, I was struck by a recurrent theme. Fathers are nearly always described as remote, cold, unhappy, shouty.

In Lynn Barber's much trumpeted read, her father gets little compassion but is berated for drinking, shouting and rudeness. Barber doesn't attempt to analyse why this was the case and is equally scatching about her "sour, bitter" mother.

TV presenter Fiona Phillips talks of a happy childhood but her relationship with her father was also challenging. He was detached and remote.

Then recently, Liz Hodginson asked why are men over 60 so boring, with nothing to talk about?

I wonder what would have happened if a man had dared write that about women over 60. There is a lot of reverse discrimination nowadays which seems perfectly acceptable. TV ads can happily poke fun at men for being inept round the house. Feminists write endlessly about the lot of women, and it's a "lot" which has changed beyond recognition in the last 100 years.

Looking back, I wonder if the unhappy fathers of biographies were tired of being the breadwinner; of having to perform routinely dull 9 to 5 jobs to ensure their families were fed? There was little opportunity in the 60s for breaking out of the mould. Generally only the priveleged were well educated.

Did the grind of a dull job and the retirement with little to offer except a nagging wife and a shed lead to the "boring men" that Hodginson talks about?

My own father fizzed and enthralled as a younger man, a Royal Marine with the charisma to host events and chair local community meetings. But after leaving the services at 37, he gradually lost his joie de vivre as he took on a succession of jobs he didn't enjoy. His health began to deteriorate and he became a classically grumpy old man.  We knew so little about him. He rarely talked about himself or his past.

Younger men today, we read, don't have it any easier. Their role has been changed, probably against their will, as women were liberated from being housewives or typists. They have to compete for the best jobs against women as well as men, and some companies impose numbers on how many men can be hired in order to hire more women, regardless of who's best for the job.

From a young age boys constantly hear how inferior they are to girls. It was apparent in the TV programme "Gareth Malone's extraordinary school for boys" where the boys could scarcely concentrate and were largely incapable of reading, let alone debating with girls of the same age.

Allowing boys to hide behind Wiis and other gadgets clearly doesn't help their interpersonal skills. The nanny state of compensation culture doesn't allow them to burn off energy and parents get castigated for letting their children walk or cycle to school on their own, even if it's only a short distance.

If all this was happening to women, and women were so unhappy, there would be a huge inquest. But who feels sad about the men?

Give Ed a break

My personal preference was David, but what's really getting my goat is the vitriole aimed at Ed Milliband because he thwarted his brother's ambitions by standing for the Labour leadership in the first place.

What?

Now with certain things - inheritances and the monarchy - the eldest son always gets priority. Some weird old feudal thing.

But I don't see why, if Ed made his career politics exactly as his brother did, he can't go for the top prize too.

Leaderships don't come round very often and particularly not when there are meglomaniacs like Mrs Thatcher and Tony Blair.

I'm sure the psychologists are going to have a field day. There was excited gossip on the Andrew Marr show today about how Ed always copied David. But here's the thing. (An expression I hate). David had his chance a couple of years ago when he made an attack on Gordon Brown, without naming his prey, but then backed off. He could have made his move then and maybe Labour wouldn't have lost the election. But we'll never know.

My only advice to Ed, following his appearance on the Marr show today, is that he doesn't want to sound like he supports the Coalition government. I know it's hard to find differences between the three leaders, all young, highly educated middle and upper class men as they are, but unless Ed finds a differentiator, we'll be stuck with Cameron and the gang for years.

Thank goodness for Harriet Harman is all I can say: the only senior woman politician and a good #2 to Ed. She is the only minister to have effected any real change for women in over 30 years, with the last being David Steel and his abortion act.

A great performance from Joaquin Phoenix

I find Joaquin Phoenix far more interesting and appealing than cute boys like Brad Pitt. He's edgy and enigmatic.

I just love the way he and Casey Affleck successfully pulled off a massive hoax, lasting for two years.

It started when Joaquin appeared on the David Letterman show and was virtually monosyllabic with wild hair (left). He was retiring from films and promoting his new career as a rapper. Letterman, in frustration, ended the interview "Joaquin Phoenix could not be with us today".

Now Phoenix has apologised to Letterman. http://www.hellomagazine.com/celebrities-news-in-pics/23-09-2010/54750/

It was all part of him creating a character.

A "documentary" directed by Affleck shows the breakdown  of the star and his descent into drug taking. When "I'm Still Here" first came out, it seems a lot of people were fooled.

Even the Sunday Times was unsure if it was a spoof, but the writer, a couple of weeks ago, revealed that Phoenix had slipped into the cinema where a preview was being shown and was laughing at all the amusing bits and looking pleased with the reception the film got.

I'm relieved that it was all a stunt, and that Phoenix has been having a bit of fun. It was very brave of him and it's probably been one of his greatest roles.

Getting to know Raquel



Glam at 70



That's Raquel Welch, not Raquel Wolstenhulme.

I've just been reading her book "Raquel: Beyond the Cleavage". It's not exactly an autobiography: there's quite a lot of biography, but then it suddenly becomes a treatise for women with Raquel's views on all manner of things, plus a few chapters where Raquel gives her beauty and fashion tips.
I've always been a bit fascinated by Raquel Welch. As she says in her book, she's been fairly enigmatic without giving many interviews throughout her career. She's able to give a list of men including Richard Burton, Burt Bacharach, Burt Reynolds, Warren Beatty (it goes on) and teasingly asks us which one she had a relationship with. And we probably don't have a clue.
I find that she's even more of an enigma after reading the book.


The other Raquel (Wolstenhulme)



Made famous by that shot of her in a fur bikini, Welch apparently became very stroppy whenever directors expected her to take her clothes off. Maybe that's how she got the reputation she has for being difficult. Anyway, you have to admire her principles. It seems that she wanted to be a serious actress, and indeed, has always thought herself to be a serious actress, but because of that wretched photo, everyone treated her as a sex symbol. Very irritating.

In her beauty and fashion tips, she talks at length about plastic surgery and injectibles, but doesn't say whether or not she's had any of it. She does own up to using "Frownies," tiny bits of cardboard you stick on wrinkles at night. I think she's trying to kid us all that she's had nothing done. But you don't look like she does at 70 without a bit of help.

I did warm to her after she admitted to putting on 15 extra pounds during the writing of the book, because an injury meant she wasn't able to exercise. Phew, the woman is human! I was beginning to doubt it after she gave a example of her daily diet. You know the sort of thing: breakfast, egg white omelette. Lunch: salad. Dinner: steamed fish.