Three full cooked breakfasts and one bacon baguette. There was a good reason for the last one. We'll get to that later.
"Breakfast smells good." I remarked to Mikey in our hotel reception the first morning.
"They want 16 quid for it. I'm not paying that."
"The thieving bastards."
We already had plans that day, anyway. A morning ride up to London and breakfast in a Toby Carvery.
Mikey convinced me with: "They have bacon Yorkshire pudding."
After driving around some random bits of South London, we rolled up at the carvery.
It's a buffet breakfast. So I loaded up on the bacon. The rashers of which, as often in buffets, were often half crispy, half barely cooked. I picked carefully. The fried eggs had hardened under the lights. Another problem with buffets. You need to pounce just after a fresh lot has been put out and the yolks are still vaguely liquid. It brought back the horror of Columbian hard fried eggs.
I finished cramming my plate with mushrooms, tinned tomatoes and some potato stuff. With bacon in it. Yum. Almost forgot: I had a sausage.
I've learnt to be wary of breakfast sausages. Unless I'm in a nice hotel, I usually steer clear of them. Horrible offal and sawdust tubes of terror. Mikey said they were OK. I took a punt on one. Perfectly edible.
The bacon Yorkshire pudding was a slight disappointment. Just a standard pudding with a bit of bacon in the bottom.
We had a pint in a random pub on the way back. Some place on Shooter's Hill. I see we had a pint. I did. Mikey was driving. To make up for him not having a pint, I had a double whisky as well. That balanced things up.
Mikey had a whole breakfast schedule worked out. On Saturday, it was the turn of the Black Bull.
We've dined there many times before. Pretty reliable. I get one of their specials. Not exactly what I would have ordered, given the choice. Two slices of bacon, a sausage, a fried egg, black pudding, hash browns, baked beans and tinned tomatoes. I could have done without the beans. And have another egg.
The egg was a bit strange. But the yolk was liquid, which was the most important. The suasage was even weirder, looking like the victim of a slasher attack. It doesn't taste too bad. Obviously, the bacon is good. And evenly cooked.
The owner is a friendly chap and chats away with us.
Toby Carvery Bexley Heath
Black Bull Cafe
49 Black Bull Rd,