10 December days in England

Swiss air brought us to England

(Apologies for the formatting issues).

My six oldest friends live in England, within around 20 miles of each other, along with their six partners and 14 children.  We haven't been to England in the winter in nearly a decade. It was unsurpsingly grey and somewhat surprisingly very dark, very early.  Ottawa is on the same latitude as Rome.  Our "true North" is suprisingly far south.  All of this English gloom was no equal to the congenial cheer that was in full flow in the run up to Christmas - the sunshine of friendship radiating through the pale fog. 

We had a very smooth taxi-bus-plane-taxi trip from Chamonix back to Woking and were settled just in time to wave our generous hosts, Nick and Agnes, off to London for their Van Gogh and Shard dinner engagements to celebrate the anniversary of their first date.  We were comfortably house bound for the first couple of days awaiting what else but a covid test result. 

When it duly arrived we were like greyhounds out of the gates.  Well perhaps very slow greyhounds but nevertheless we were ready to wallow in all that England has to offer at this time of year: muddy walks, mugs of tea, warm ale, and crackling fires (although you can't hear the crackle now that everyone, including us, has hidden away their festive combustions in their lovely new high efficiency wood burners).  We had a nice walk with the Medhurts, the kids ran through the forest, the dogs did dog stuff, and we headed to the fabled White Hart in Pirbright for afters.

English mud washed from the fur of Barney whose mud carrying capacity is not proportionate to his diminutive size

The Gardner family consists of Mummy Gardner and Daddy Gardner, Juliette (9) and Emmanuelle (6), Marius (cat), Lily (cat) and Barny (dog, although he’s confused, he thinks he might be a cat). These seven mammals live together in a fun, jolly, bundle of comings and goings.  While they are at home music is played, art in created, toys are played with, jobs are navigated and a household and garden are run and tended to.  It all makes for a very welcoming, warm and easy going place for visitors, who never feel in the way or like they have overstayed there welcome, whatever the truth may be.

Lily

Marius

Barney

Harry Potter

On Monday I headed north on the M25 to Rickmansworth for a walk and a pub lunch with Chris.  I could write an ode to the British pub but suffice to say they are everywhere and the best are a cozy cradle of comfort and joy.  An ode to Chris would just make him fell awkward.  In the evening we went to the Paynes who are staying with Mummy/Granny Payne while they gut and rebuild their house.  Tuesday was a quiet morning. Time for a run along the Basingstoke canal before we went to the pantomime, Snow White.  Plenty of jokes for the adults, plenty of slapstick for the kids. We had a boys night at the Red Lion in Horsell.  Many a dinner table, many a pub, and many a breakfast table has seen these seven ugly mugs.  This time I had the affagato for dessert, the one where you pour the espresso and the amarello on the ball of icecream.  Hits all the bases, uppers and downers in one.

The Basingstoke canal

Wednesday was a grand day out at Blackwood Forest with Alistair and Auntie Anne and included a picnic lunch.  Ten days in England, mid December, almost no rain (no sun either but that’s ok), reasonable temperatures, and a covid pandemic keeping us outdoors perhaps more than normal.

Blackwood Forest

Speaking of covid, this was the week in which Omicron took hold and in which governments took flight.  Premier league games have been cancelled, France has banned British tourists, the Canadians have gone back to their non-essential travel advisory, and we can expect a PCR test when we land in Toronto.  This is the pandemic that keeps on giving, especially at Christmas. In the meantime, we did our arrival tests in the UK and then lots of rapid tests and we seem to have made it through the week covid-free.

On Thursday we met up with Alistair again, this time at Wisley gardens.  We did our pre departure covid tests in the carpark just to get in at the beginning of the 72 hour rule.  Wisley is the home of the Royal Horticultural Society and an impressive place.  I spent a couple of summers working in the cafeteria in my youth but rarely saw much of the gardens.  Must go back to see the other three seasons some time.  The girls took their turn for a pub night which did not immediaetly lead to any arrests or divorces.

Wisley's Christmas tree

The glasshouse was still tropical

Friday, and next on my hitlist was Damien who traded lunch and a run for help moving a very heavy matress between his house and their flat.  Longish story.  Nick came too.  The Hambledon village shop makes a delcious brie, bacon and cranberry toastie as well as a very tasty sausage roll.  A chance to see Rosie and the kids again too.  Back at home I got roped into the street’s beer advent calendar before we fired up the telly for No Time to Die. Or at least the first half.    

One more day (it’s ok we’re nearly there), Saturday.  To round things out and complete the set of visits, we had lunch with Tim and Celine, checked in with their boys post-nap and made it back in time to finish packing, have dinner, and complete Bond (no spoilers here, but it was impactful after a lifetime of watching 007).

Barney

So there we are.  A really lovely week of immersing ourselves in friends.  We’re heading back to Ottawa now where we will start the next phase of our journey with days of quarantine/isolation in an Airbnb in Dunrobin.  It will be a bit weird and no doubt a bit lonely after the last week but it should give us a nice break before we (covid fingers crossed) get on with a family Christmas and catching up with folks back home.