Once in a while we go out for lunch on Saturday. Not a pub lunch followed by a brisk walk but a leisurely lunch in a smart hotel. It is the sort of thing that you do on holiday but MrM has decreed that it is a shame to restrict such things and so we treat ourselves. This weekend we went to Hotel Endsleigh, a romantic hunting lodge which was built for the the Duke of Bedford between 1810 and 1816, now run as a country house hotel by Olga Polizzi. The dimly lit dining rooms look out over a deep valley which was wreathed in mist and it seemed quite possible that the Valkyries would arise at any moment singing grim Wagnerian choruses. We did justice to the menu and then retired to the sitting room to drink peppermint tea in front of the fire. An elderly man snoozed under his Saturday paper. It was all very civilized.