Pleasures of the Zimmer Zone (1)...

Happiness also came from accepting that I needed a ‘zimmer zone’. So from the moment we moved into our small, furnished pad on the cusp of Hove we decided that in its immediate vicinity we would put ‘doing nothing twice’ into cold storage and could drink, internet-café, shop et al as often as we wanted. We could relax and I would re-charge my batteries – it was like playing hookie. We could also integrate with the local community, enjoy its conviviality and friendliness, and in a pub experience a curiously comforting sensation when the barman would say on our arrival, ‘It’ll be the usual then.’ Although the best dose of repetition occurred every morning and within seconds of leaving our flat - the sight of the sea, always blue, always sparkling - the oft-visited cafes and pubs in the zimmer zone weren’t far behind it in making us feel fab.

Late morning lattes at The Mad Hatter or afternoon glasses of wine under Barney’s awnings were simple pleasures, but magical. Later in the day, but maybe because it was too close to home, the regrettably ill-frequented, warm and friendly, Montpelier Inn, where minehost was out of the top drawer. On one of our first times there Suzi asked for a Drambuie, which he didn’t stock – but that didn’t stop him buying a bottle just for her! Shame on us: we can’t remember if she ever had a tipple from it. So if you’re in there and the Drambuie remains disgracefully full, just blame her.

Evenings, though, are inextricably linked with memories of our favourite pub - opposite Norfolk Square and on the corner of Western Road. We loved its décor, ambience, its artistes, its tasty chips and the large wooden tables, on which we often played, not chess or backgammon or any of the other board games that fine establishment had made available to patrons. Instead, it’s where I introduced Suzi to Two Man’s Whist.

Both players are dealt 12 face-down cards – not in a pile, but separately – hence the need for a large table. On each card another card is placed, this time face-up. Each player has 4 cards in-hand. You can play trump, no-trumps, and/or declare you’re going to win more or less than 13 tricks.

Play can be made from a card in-hand or from a face-up card on the table. If the latter, after the trick is completed, the face-down card that was below it is turned over. Who ever wins a trick, leads. That’s the gist of it – I’m sure you get the drift. It’s a card game kids like too – come to think of it, maybe that’s why Suzi’s taken to it!

It was taught to me long ago by a man whose English was not so good. I met him only once. I was fourteen at the time and he was a friend of my father and he lived in a block of flats in the Nydalen district of Oslo. Maybe it was kind of appropriate then that I taught Suzi how to play Two Man’s Whist in the Atlas.

(For new readers this is my 8th post. Our first evening in Brighton - 17 May 2005 - is described in the opening two posts, ‘Arrival!’ and ‘And We’re Off.’)

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