Chantek, Truro

James. Even after all these years, he never fails to surprise me. Once, in the vestibule of hlavni nadrazi, I asked him, sheepishly, if he had his passport. Of course not. So he taxis madly back to Nusle at high speed and is back with a grin
and an extra something
he needs next day.
Another time he missed a flight so got the next plane to Botswana instead;
the only thing flying that Christmas Eve, he said.
I felt that girl wasn't good for him. He moved in.

He doesn't just talk, he does.
He is like the comforting hum of a fridge with an eccentric looking button which is not for ice.
His head is so full of dreams and he churns out ideas and plans, with pictures and places and people who fit
together
somehow,
and it's all justified by logic and coincidence and a little bit of science.

So when he told me he was packing in the day job and getting an alarm clock,
moving to Cornwall to oversee the complete building works refurbishment and then recruit for and run his own two-storey Asian fusion restaurant in the heart of Cornwall's capital with a cathedral,
I almost asked him for a job.
So it was great when we all ate there on his birthday. I had the Pollock.

Rob preparing for a self-portrait.

Dishes being delivered. Adam enjoying his.

The system.

Cooking up the next batch of orders.

Food coming out at quite a pace.

All hands on deck, and at the end waiting patiently is

Marek, from Hradec Kralove, amazed when suddenly everyone started speaking Czech!