Thursday June 24th.
It's only a week since we arrived in England but it seems a lifetime since we left Melbourne. I'm missing the cats terribly, especially Oliver, and wonder if he will haver transferred all his affections to Vanessa with me gone so long.
Today was another of those days where I played the dutiful wife while being pissed off inside. It's not ego to say I am more than a little charismatic - but here on his home turf Beloved truly is master of all he surveys and this part of the trip is pretty much about him doing what HE wants to do. That's okay - I've put him through the mill the past two years but now I see, despite his great love for OZ, that he indeed an Englishman...and every castle is his home. What's more, he is astonishinmgly dynamic - like and exiled king returning home. Everybody loves him and bends to his will and wit. Not complaining....it's just a novelty I'm not sure I want to repeat.
WE left Hartley Wintney for six days of touring... mostly to see his old sailing buddies. First stop is the village of Messing to see his old boss and I'm not looking forward to it.... Tony and R will talk sailing.... I will be left to entertain E - whom I have not met and who knows nothing of my existence - though she knew wives 1 and 2!
The day starts badly - Margaret is late home from her lunch and. although we did get to see the end of the Isner/Mahut match from Wimbledon ( true heroes, both) we didn't get on the road till 3.30pm. Not used to the route we took the northern instead of the southern branch of the A25. Apart from seeing an horrific smash in which a car was torn in half, another crumpled like a sardine tin, and bodies everywhere - the peak hour traffic meant we took 2 hours to travel 30 miles.
Finally we arrived in Messing, a charming village in Essex - where R and E live.
The cottage is like something from Britian's most Beautiful homes or Escape to the Country.... thatched roof, painted pink, roses climbing up the wall...it's 500 years old and is attached by one wall to a similarly aged old pub called The Crown Inn. Picture postcard stuff ...it takes your breath away.
R and E come out to meet us. They are....um...charming, sweet, ....and DECREPIT! They are OLD - older than I can possibly imagine. The good news is that they make me feel suddenly impossibly YOUNG - almost adoloscent. Tony and I always say age is just a number and means nothing. But looking at these ancient people I remember how terrified I was of maths when I was a kid.
We are shown the garden - which is to die for - full of big trees - roses - an ivy covered deep well, and a hedge that backs on to corn fields. Magic.
As predicted Tony and R prattle on about the past and I try to entertain E - who starts discourses on many subjects only to abandon them mid sentence. It's tiring trying to keep a conversation going. We have a drink in the pub next door but nothing is said about food... 7.30 turns to 8 - and then 9 - and finally we are taken into the cottage and served chicken curry - COLD with a cold rice salad and some lettuce leaves. Since we're ravenous and would happily have eaten the apples on the tablecloth, we devour it gladly - and there are at least English strawberries ( does anything taste quite so good) and cream and a good stilton to follow. The English seem to drink a lot of orange juice with lemonade...a habit I hope not to pick up.
Since there is nothing worth reporting on the meal or after dinner conversation - let me describe the marvellous higgledy piggledy cottage. It's grade two listed and so original features cannot be moved. There are beams and timber supports everywhere - huge chunks of old oak that have held the house together since the early 15th century. When the floor was dug out downstairs to makeway for more headroom upstairs, the beams had to stay in situ. So Upstairs - in the charming guest bedroom we are assigned... there is a beam, some 18inches ( 45cms) thick that is suspended 1 foot ( 30 cms) above the ground and TOTALLY BLOCKS THE DOORWAY! No kidding, you have to climb over it to enter or leave the bedroom. We are offerred a chamber pot to avoid trips to the bathroom during the night, as forgetting the beam is there could result in you breaking your neck! But the bed is comfortable and Tony and I got to fall asleep in each other's arms without a single cat coming between us. We did however agree to a suicide pact if we ever got to be that decrepit!
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