I got chucked out of The Ritz.

Well....I sort of did. But apparently this is how we write blog titles these days. Soz about that. 

I was off for a family birthday at The Ritz, to celebrate with afternoon tea. I didn't arrange the booking, and honestly didn't give my plans too much thought. Found a dress I liked ('cos you don't wear jeans to afternoon tea) and off I went.

We arrived, and the doormen swiftly told me that there was a strict code of "No Trainers." He advised me that they had shoes they could loan out, but gosh no thank you. So it was time to find a pair of shoes nearby and with haste.

Managed to find a Cath Kidston store, and within all of the baseball shoes, I found these flats in their sale. Sold!

So I rushed back, made it in time, and enjoyed our afternoon tea. I'm not against places having a dress code, I just honestly wear the same shoes every day (they give my back good support and my damaged ankle doesn't move about too much in them), however what seemed odd was that people were allowed to wear boots. Very casual, and vaguely scruffy boots. Just not trainers (mine were all black, including laces). Anyhow, their house their rules I guess.

Afternoon tea is a rather odd concept really. You pay quite a lot of money (for the plush surroundings largely) and then you eat a ridiculous amount of food. Some sandwiches, fine, then scones (plural) and then cakes. Then an extra round of cake. When did we sit down to eat three rounds of cake? My teeth felt pretty furry by the end!

We enjoyed the pianist playing happy birthday and bringing out a cake for our table, which had a lovely (and very polite) applause from the other tables, which is pretty cool. And I ate a ton of food. Blimey. A ton of food. And I now own some new pumps. With houses on them.