It may be noted by regular readers (my family) that I am a miserable whinging Pom as the Australians would have it. Which is a but rich coming from them. Coming from a country rich in sport and even richer in excuses.

Current research, I am led to believe, suggests that that far from growing into the mantle of grumpy old git all i did was grow old and I was a grumpy git to start with.

Fair point.

Well, now for another moan.

the whole reason to visit Cornwall again was to visit the Eden Project. It is thoroughly absosrbing attraction, even for a dyed in the wool gardening phobe like myself.

However I want to moan about the food they served therein. My son had been licking his lips at the thought of the Cornish Pasty he had had there and the enormous wedges he had enjoyed.

At this visit though it was all gone replaced by some sort of poncy open air eating. Yu collected a wooden pallet and helped yourself to the colourful preparations. But why the silly wooden blocks for plates? the food itself was "wholesome" in a middle class sort of way but not hearty. Gone were the wedges. In its place was an over peppered and over priced vegetable soup, cold pizza slices, bowls of salad with a lot of red and stuff and wedged sandwich's which were so wedged there was little room for filing

It was all too poncy by far and pricey. My son was bereft. No potato wedges.

In fact it placed him in such a disconsolate state that he was very curt in his assessment of the choir performing in Mediterranean dome.

It was all a Guardian readers paradise but left me somewhat stupefied. I am not sure how much African choral songs sang by Cornish men are relevant in a Mediterranean setting.

The rain forest section though is worth the admission price all on it's own.

I thouroughly reccomend if ever you are ever in Cornwall