A quick call after we'd checked in at the Travelodge ruled out further socialising, and we headed off fairly promptly down the road to Spice I Am for an early dinner. We had, after all, skipped lunch after a substantial breakfast and had plenty of gustatory action on the horizon. And, in any case, it's worth arriving at Spice I Am with a healthy appetite.
Madam, interestingly, had a go at an entree before her appointment with a whole sand whiting. I reckoned my entree of spicy sausages and salad followed by an interesting arrangement of prawns and banana flower would probably be enough since I'd probably have to finish off a bit of whiting at the end.
As it turned out I had half of the other entree, but Someone had picked over the fish very thoroughly. I didn't even manage a taste.
What I did manage was a leisurely visit to The Oak Barrel on the way back to base.
At this point, The Inquisitive Reader is probably pondering what might seem like a significant form reversal. Why, TIR might ask, did Hughesy save his visit to the bottle shop for the return journey? The answer to that question lies in the nature of the beast when you're dealing with Spice I Am.
For a start, there are no bookings, so it's first in, best dressed if you want to avoid a queue. It was getting on for six when we headed out, so there was a fair chance the tables would be full when we arrived. They do offer takeaways, so if you're not inclined to queue for a seat you can wait for a takeaway. And, of course, with a takeaway you can visit the bottle shop on the way home.
Secondly, when we're in nature of the beast territory, given the no reservations bit, they quite understandably push things through, so you don't arrive, bottle in hand, expecting to be able to polish the rest of it off at your leisure. Two with a bottle, fair enough, probably not an issue, but I've eaten there solo with a decent bottle of Riesling and ended up carting the bottle off with me because there was still a glass left.
Things you buy from The Oak Barrel deserve to be savoured at leisure rather than swilled to finish them off because you need to leave.
If The Inquisitive Reader is looking for a third reason for the form reversal, he or she can put it down to the possibility of takeaway.
Now, given those nature of the beast issues, TIR might be wondering why Spice I Am is an automatic default option when we stay at the Travelodge, which is my default arrive the night before the concert accommodation, which, in turn, has a fair bit to do with The Oak Barrel being around the corner.
To put it simply, it's the best Thai I've eaten, and they don't restrict themselves to the standard options that tend towards the stir fries and curries. Those appear on the menu, of course, but there are plenty of less familiar offerings to sample, and everything I've had there has been bloody marvellous.
And tacking the Oak barrel onto the return leg gave me time to take a good look around rather than heading straight for the refrigerated section and grabbing a bottle of Riesling I haven't tried before.
If I'd been there on the way, this time it would have been a Riesling Freak No. 4, but since we didn't necessarily want a chilled bottle, I got a chance for a good look around. Madam hadn't been there before, and took a good look around herself, emerging with the opinion that it's the best bottle shop she's seen.
Not that she's that big on bottle shops, you understand.
But the range is enormous, the quality high and when we're back on Tuesday I'll be tempted to buy a bottle of Wendouree red to consume at the Rendezvous as a nightcap after show #3 and on Thursday night.
Tonight's bottle was a rather enjoyable Yangarra Mourvèdre.