Including Wonderful Thanksgiving in Bradford-on-Avon!
Following is an account of our trip to England, with some of the pictures.
Week One--Trip to Canterbury
After a few days in our snug cottage on the coast in Rustington , we journeyed to Canterbury, to vist our dear friends John and Jane. There was something of a mad dash to make the train, and in the excitement, we allowed the ticket seller to persuade us that it would be quicker to travel through Brighton rather than London. Wrong. Particularly as the train idled languorously on the track between Rustington and Brighton so that we arrived in Brighton a minute after our connecting train had left. Sigh. Not the quickest nor yet the most efficient way to travel between the two points, but a very agreeable ride all the same. Beauteous sweeps of green country, pretty towns, and for a little way, along the white cliffs of Dover, and they rising majestic on one side of the tracks, with the sea on the other. John and Jane greeted us at the train station, their kindly faces so dear and familiar, and we drove back to their house for a sit by the fire and a glass or two.
Eventually, we set off for Broadstairs, where we had a glass at the Tatar Frigate, a dark and cozy pub, and then another at Nelson's Ball, and then to our restaurant next door where they gave us a splendid dinner.
Next morning we had a pleasant breakfast and then whipped off to Faversham for a tour of the
Shepherd Neame Brewery, guided by a bright and lively young woman who knew and loved the place, and who led us through the intricacies of the ancient place with a charming verve.
Always accompanied by the strong smell of roasting barley.
Well, roasted boiled barley, which is--
malt! Had no idea. She gave us some to taste: odd grainy taste, like sunflower seeds as it might be, and then hops too--which are bitter, very bitter. That is what gives the boost to beer, gives it that bitter accent underneath. The tour ended with a beer tasting, and I bravely tasted 3 beers, to discover that unfortunately I still don't like beer. A sad failing on my part.
Then a really fine lunch at the 3 Mariners, and then they dropped us off at the train station, and we set off to vist our friends in London.
London
We met friends for dinner in London--such joy, the Brummers were celebrating the birth of their granddaughter; we all toasted little Natasha, opening (yet another) bottle in her honor.
The next day Mike and Pat took us to the Babylon exhibit at the British Museum--whoa, what a show!Though the curators of the show were at pains to illustrate its enduring influence, the incredible oldness of Babylon is what chiefly amazed me--the clay tablets we saw were from 3 thousand BC, but they in their turn referred to famous events 3 thousand years before that.Ignoramus that I am, I was quite taken aback to discover that our familiar Bible stories are part of Babylonian history--Daniel in the lion's den, the brothers in the burning fiery furnace, the moving finger writing on the wall at Balshazzar's feast.A well put together exhibit, not surprising considering that it draws on one of the finest collections of books and art objects in the world. And--a delightful touch at the end of the exhibit--there was the Babel fish, from the Hitchhiker's Guide, demonstrating the perseverance of Babylon in story and legend--an inspired addition!
Joy and James visit us in Rustington
Joy and James arrived for a brief shining moment on Saturday--such a treat to see them! And to see how happy Joy is, how happy they both are to be together, to be young, to be in love. We gave them a porky kind of lunch (pork pies, eggs and bacon), and then we went for a walk by the sea, very beautiful it was too, the gentle curve of the horizon a purple line enclosing the milky sea, the sky huge and filled with speeding clouds, and the wind blowing us to and fro.
We walked to Little Hampton and had a coffee in what is perhaps the ugliest structure on the coast (but I know the competition is keen)--in the shape of what Joy called a turd, but I would more politely call a pile of sliced liver.
Then back along the shore to our cottage. The next day was startling weather! It rained, it blew, it was spectacularly bad! And Joy and James set off bravely in the teeth of the gale, as he had to play in a football game that afternoon.
Thanksgiving in Bradford on Avon
The next week we drove up to Bradford-on-Avon, where Joy and James live while he is attending classes at Bath University.
Our brilliant GPS system gamely talked us through the labyrinthine British road system from Sussex to Wiltshire, from one roundabout to the next--though she called them rotaries, being American and all.We could have downloaded a British voice, but choose to stick with Bonnie and her clear Yankee tones. In one of her more charming maneuvers, Bonnie led us RIGHT BY Stonehenge. Totally inadvertently.
We stopped and took a few pictures from outside the fence (being too cheap to pay the £6 per person entry fee), and then continued on our way.We stayed at Alisa House, a nice little B&B.
Aaron and Tory flew in from Estonia, and we went to Bath to pick them up from the train station. There was an uneasy moment when they thought they had lost their tickets and might be sent all the way back to Luton, but they found them and all was well.
Joy and James live in Frankleigh House, an old manor which has been broken into apartments.A beautiful place, if a teensy bit dilapidated. It is a sort of hippy commune now, with everyone chipping in to pay for repairs on the roof or whatever else is falling down. Tory and Aaron found the heating a little lacking, but the Charm made up for it.
The next day was Thanksgiving! We all gathered for a splendid feast at the Fat Fowl, the very appropriately named restaurant that Joy had found for the celebration, which she organized herself and very fine it was too! We had a grand Thanksgiving with Peter and Jane, Aaron and Tory, and some other friends as well-an excellent dinner!It was a fine moment when the buxom hostess tottered in bearing the TWENTY-TWO pound turkey! She told me that she had researched this exotic American holiday online to find out what Holiday games we played. I told her that generally the hostess was expected to dance around the table wearing a turkey feather headress while making turkey calling sounds, but unfortunately she didn't buy it. Well, we toasted each other, Peter carved the bird, and we all ate with a will. A wonderful and very happy Thanksgiving!
Then back to the cottage, a last visit to Lawrence's mom in the hospital (doing much better, thank goodness) and off to Heathrow.
Slightly stunning that it is all over! And that this is the TENTH time that Lawrence and I have visited England together!
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