More about Leeds

The Royal Armouries, it must be said, were hard to top, but the artsy craftman's market and the painted timber Covered Market (the largest in Europe, apparently) gave us more than a morning's browsing.

As you can see, Anthony spent the morning pulling faces - although he downright scowled when he realised I'd posed him under this sign on purpose.... Modern Leeds is a carelessly cool city - a whole lotta Victorian stone edifices meet industrial revolution hits urban chic, that reminds me a bit of Melbourne. The reclaimed waterfront is clearly becoming a hub for trendy bars and renovated factories-turned-studio-flats.

And damn but the eating's good! Having turned up at a spanish place I'd found on the web and found it packed on the Saturday, we wandered around for ages trying to get a bit to eat - Anthony's (which I've since learned has a michelin star!) was booked out, and there was nary a table to be had even at Loch Fyne or any of the better 'national' restaurants.

We were getting desperate, when we found Georgetown. Set inside a former watchmakers shop, this restaurant was still all kitted out in Victorian opulence (etched mirrors, chandeliers, dark timber and pretty porcelain), serving up seriously good Indonesian, Malay and Chinese dishes in a quirky, but workable, 'civilised dining in the colonies' kinda theme. The asian flavours tasted authentic, the service was darn good, and after our champagne, three courses and wine, we adjourned to the piano bar for coffee, digestifs and a smoke. Piano bar? Yes, an asian chap played for about 3 hours to an almost empty dining room. At the prices we paid, I don't understand how this place wasn't packed.

From there we found a groovy bar where we drank cherry beers from Belgium before staggering into the shrieking cacophony of chavs and mingers that litter the streets of English cities everywhere on a Saturday night...

This was a new breed of chav though. Leeds counts, to most English folk, as 'up north' (some people consider Brummies to be northerners - blimey!) and is fulled with an odd mix of accents - I'd just gotten used to the slightly nasally singsong of Lancastrian-like accents, when a cab driver's broad Yorkshire drawl made me sit up and have to check my ears. "Y'want 't Brookfild 'otel? On 'Unslet roood. Aye ah noo the won". Maybe you had to be there...

Anyway, we rounded out the weekend by heading back to the Spanish place on Sunday, where we learned they did "Tapas for a Tenner" on Sundays... bliss!