Flying Solo

So B is going away this weekend and we got speaking about being alone. Last time we were single was more than 9 years ago and he had eaten (and watch some exotic dancers) at a little pub called Silver Wings at the Springs Airfield, I had to see this so off we went.

It was a small place with about 10 wooden bench style tables around the pub. Two of the tables were already taken so we opted for one on the other side of the room located near the door. I sat looking towards the windows, which gave me a bird's eye view of the airfield, watching Gyrocopters and light aircraft taking off and landing. B, as always, sat so he could watch the entrance (a curse of serious military training).

The service astounded me! We got the most efficient service I have had in years. The waiter was over within a minute and took our drinks orders. A Coke each and gave us a menu. We pondered over the menu, umming and ahhing, as we tried to decide what to choose. We giggled as we noticed each item on the menu was cleverly named after a type of aeroplane, Leer jet breakfasts and chopper burgers. We had both settled on a burger but when I turned over the menu in finality we discovered they served baskets. After a quick glance we both decided we would rather share a basket called a Spitfire. Fussy me had to ask for items to be swopped but the waiter was on the ball and nothing was too much trouble.

It was brilliant, a large tray with a barbeque dip in the centre. The tray was heavily ladden with goodies to eat from onion rings and chips to Russians, cocktail sausages and chicken wings, not to mention the chicken nuggets and fish bites, everything a great platter should comprise.

The waiter still quick on his feet, got a second round of Cokes whilst we sat chatting about the last time B visited the Silver Wing pub. B headed off to the toilets, his regular haunt, and upon his return commented on the clean but rudimentary toilets. He told me I just have to take a look before we leave so I agreed to go on our way out.

After a while we were both to full to finish the tray so we left some of that devine food and asked for the bill. When the bill arrived B nearly fell off his chair, how cheap was that, for a mere
R 92.00 we had had a feast. I wished I could take my kids to enjoy this feast but it really is a pub and no under 18's allowed.

We headed for the door and I slipped into the bathrooms to examine B's rudimentary comment and to my surprise I could not have thought of a better description. The place was clean but the doors we non existent, the basin was moulded from concrete with a plain silver drain in the middle, definitely no plugs used here and in the mens the urinal was a concrete tiled drain. So simple so functional, so much work to clean.

As we headed for the car I commented that we would once again be flying solo this weekend but the Silver wing was no longer B's solo spot.