The oxygen tent

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After a respite with limited to no internet access, I am able to update you all on the past weeks' activities. I write from a rather lovely, if ever so slightly isolated, section of the Yorkshire dales. Myself, Abbie, Brooke and Ric are staying with Ric's sister very near Pately Bridge, home of England's oldest sweetshop, lapwings, and thanks to us, at least one dead rabbit (run over rather fatefully by our zippy little Renault hire car).

In the last week much has occurred. This said the best of it, somewhat predictably, involves me drinking much wine, getting some sleep for once, and generally living life at a pace less hectic than that of Bangkok. Whilst obviously never regretting a trip to Thailand, England (and Wales) have acted much like Wayne Rooney's personal oxygen tent, speeding a general psychological recovery and strengthening my metatarsals (those not in the UK may be confused by this section, as the strength of the national obsession with a single bone in dear Wayne's right foot is rightly alien to them).

I have had the opportunity to catch up with a whole host of relatives, including rather obviously my dad as well as various surviving grandparents, who all seem happy to see me and have complimented my increased stature (or 'you fat bastard' in less nice terms). Some have even attempted to read my thesis, a testament to the strength of family bonds over petty concerns like the possibility of death being induced by pain, boredom and 'disgusting neologisms' (surely you remember bursary English?.. look it up). We also caught up with Ela, who was happily ensconced in plush surrounds (Sloane Square no less), but still willing to indulge travelling riff-raff like ourselves, wasting large amounts of good alcohol in the process.

Today we visited the aforementioned sweet shop, and after waking from a diabetic coma joined the national trust (a heritage organisation which maintains all sorts of old buildings and ruins) at a local abbey next to a place called Studley (hat tip to Dudley who should visit, not least because we played his EP rather loudly when approaching across the moors). Excellent. Will now endeavour to post more frequently.

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Photos

Boy in a sweetshop
Overwhelmed Tan sought solace in a Diabetic coma.

Comments

[Preston]

Hey, some images
Though one of them is a little rude. Oddly, it is exactly how I pictured it.

[Bees]

Travelling
ah, mother england... instead of the sheep making corner of the empire. will send mutton... oh hang on... ah... kumera and blankets.

[JWB]

Hmm... no trade?
You don't like kumera and Blankets? How much for your women? How about 5 flax skirts and 2 taiaha? (nice chunky sticks for beating people on the head)? Cher bro.