I hate to be so basic but I'm partial to chain restaurants. The predictability suits my anxious nature. I had come to Gloucester for some training and as lunch approached I googled for a trusty old Pret. But to my dismay I was informed that the nearest Pret was in Cheltenham. How do people of... Continue Reading →
Have you ever wished that you could submit your own falafel review to ratemyfalafel.com but struggled with the layout? Now we have this easy to use template to help you write quick and easy falafel reviews! You can copy and paste this template into Word or any other software of your choice. Send your review... Continue Reading →
That's right! I done and got hitched. And it wouldn't be a honeymoon without a falafel (or 4). We set off from the UK after a week of farewells that took us all over the country. We were off, on a road trip to Italy. We decided to take a detour and pay a visit... Continue Reading →
I was standing in what can be best described as 'pissing rain', in the middle of Preston new road, wearing a 'one size fits all' incontinence nappy. But why? Had I taken a job as a traffic conductor or was I on a mandatory work scheme from the job centre? No. I was there to... Continue Reading →
It was my last night in Berlin and falafel was needed to celebrate the end of....Let's say a trying week. Trying to work on a budget I had booked myself an airbnb for my 7 nights holiday. I lasted only 4. This airbnb housed a child who threw epic tantrums at 6am that DROVE ME... Continue Reading →
The first thing I noticed when I unwrapped my falafel from its neat little bag was that the “pitta” it was in looked nothing like any pitta I’d had before...
But I'd only had one beer. And it wasn't. Let me set the scene. I had made the unusual move of going out (and on a Wednesday, no less). The Canteen, on trendy Stokes Croft where we found ourselves, was teeming with drunken youths, some of whom (well, one) asked for our advice on places to... Continue Reading →
Brent Cross shopping centre is known for its shops. There are loads of them. 120 to be precise. There’s even a pop up beach in the summer, where literally 350 tonnes of sand and 100 palm trees are plonked into the North West London car park...
London. The Big Smoke. Mr Falafel. After a grueling couple of hours in the Science Museum, where we had seen Tim Peake's actual space craft (v. disappointing) and learnt that scientists do lots of weird shit to mice, enough was enough. None of this learning and 'culture' malarky. We needed to get down to it.... Continue Reading →