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Just Another Night In The Pub
There’s a keyboard in the corner of the bar, a bright blue guitar leaning up against the wall and an electronic drum machine glinting in the glare of the pub spotlighting. A short stocky guy holds a pint of cider in his left hand as he adjusts the height of the mic stand with the other. Around the room there’s a scattering of couples with fish and chips or a home made pie – short cut pastry according to the menu – and an older guy sitting on what is obviously “his” bar stool, engaging the bar staff in chatter. We can overhear part of the conversation and glean that…
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Floods And Frosts In The English Winter
The new year period trudges by and the dawning of 2024 passes with no great celebration, Michaela’s cough has turned out to be a nasty little chest infection which has taken a proper grip. As we watch London’s new year fireworks on the TV, we muse on the fact that we saw in 2023 in Pedasi in Panama and the previous year in La Fortuna, Costa Rica, this time it’s a matter of grabbing a GP appointment and snaring a dose of antibiotics. With the cough still barking but the spirit enjoying a measure of medically induced uplift, we head to Northamptonshire for my granddaughter’s third birthday party where River…
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Buried Ships & Blessed Fish
There I was, all poised to do a post about how miserable it is to return to England, heading home from Heathrow through the rain, checking the dates of the next rail strikes, reading depressing news items, waking up to dull grey skies and drizzle, when from nowhere England unexpectedly throws open its arms and says, welcome home you guys….this is what’s great about where you live… The history of Sutton Hoo is so rich that they made a film about it, but really, the absorbing part of the story is all condensed into the last 85 years or so. Edith Pretty and her son, recently bereaved of husband and…
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The Norfolk County Show
There are few things more endearingly, quintessentially British than a County Show. There are possibly even fewer things absolutely typically English than the Norfolk County Show, a county steeped in agricultural history and even on occasion the butt of affectionate humour through its connections to farming. With a slice of serendipitous timing, Michaela was last week able to join her Mum at what is one of Norma’s favourite events on the calendar, a chance to wander among prize animals, music, food, and that essential part of an English day out – eccentric characters who in their own esoteric way define Englishness. Joined by Norma’s lovely friends Daphne and Val, the…
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What Do We Miss About Home?
Funnily enough, it’s not usually the very first pint of English ale which goes down a treat and makes me realise what I’ve been missing: no, it’s more often than not a few days after we’ve returned and we’re now settled in a pub somewhere, absorbed in chatter whilst quaffing beer and scoffing peanuts and saying to ourselves, “yeah, this feels good”. That’s the moment. These days though, we don’t miss much about home when we travel, and it’s with a little sadness that we say we don’t miss too much about England either. Since we left these shores on our first post-retirement adventure in January 2020 we’ve spent over…
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February Days In England
The stillness of a windless February day in England is a stillness unlike any other. Even the most stirring of places becomes a sensory underload, sound deadened by the absence of birdsong, colours diluted like too-thin water paints, no breeze to carry scents, no leaves to decorate the woodland. Gorse splashes its yellow blotches on to the clifftops but carries no fragrance, its delectable musk scent absent yet for another month or two. Gulls’ cries sound forlorn and lonely, the occasional rasp of a jackdaw only serves to accentuate the stillness. If a skylark takes flight, its song is truncated, a burst of panic more than a trill of joy.…
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These Cornish Things
In our last blog post we discussed how unseasonable the current weather is, feeling far too mild to be cusp November. After over four decades of visiting Cornwall I really should have known better, for my comeuppance arrives swiftly and with a vengeance, in the form of howling gales and unforgiving hailstorms. Walking from Rock to Polzeath is a doddle, the morning clouds banished by the strong winds which, coming from behind, propel us along the coast path at roughly twice our normal walking speed. The return walk couldn’t be more different. Just in time for reaching the part of the path furthest from shelter, those winds, now head on…
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Borderline Ridiculous
I think it’s fair to say that my relationship with technology is an unsteady one. Machines and gadgets which work perfectly well in the hands of others quickly malfunction once I get involved. It’s not just technology either: for instance, hand driers in public toilets often don’t respond to my presence and I’ve sometimes had to ask some mystified stranger to put his hands under the sensor in order to get the damn thing to work. Touch screens, even at cashpoints, are unpredictable, iphones and ipads pass into mysterious phases which only Michaela can dispel, and when I was working, my ability to bring any machine or IT gadget to…
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Art, Wine And Walks In Suffolk: Italy Next
After leaving Phil at the airport for his boys trip to Spain, I headed to Lowestoft in Suffolk to spend a few days with my Mum, needless to say it was a somewhat more sedate trip than Phil’s. So many trips to our English east coast have been blighted by the English weather but on this occasion I was lucky enough to have beautiful blue skies for most of the time. I always enjoy time spent with Mum and with the weather in our favour we enjoyed plenty of coastal walks and the Suffolk countryside. Art featured lots too, with Mum being an established Suffolk artist @normareadartist we spent time…
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Green Days In England
Can you imagine going to buy a coffee at Heathrow and being told they don’t accept British currency? Or that JFK Airport doesn’t take dollars? As is customary we entered Tunis Airport with a handful of local currency left in our pockets, probably just enough to cover a bite to eat and a coffee before we boarded the flight home, trying to strike that balance between not running out too soon and not having any left at the end. All we got for our last remaining dinar was shakes of heads and wry smiles: once you’re airside, nobody accepts them. You can pay in euros, you can pay by card,…
