Aahhh, it's good to be back

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March 30th


George insists on going as early as humanly possible to catch flights (which, I guess, is why we didn't miss one) so we were first in line at Etihad. Although first class wasn't an option (it doesn't hurt to ask!) we managed to score ourselves some emergency exit row seats! We were right behind the bathroom though, so people kept disturbing us by cutting through and there was a 3 year old next to George. Going to make a mental note about that to try to avoid it in the future.

Once we landed in Heathrow and braved the non-EU lineup, we found Claire's smiling face waiting in the arrivals for us. She had headed out at two, and here she was, five hours later, to give us a warm welcome. We met her beautiful puppy Whisper, who snoozed happily in the back. Claire drove us through the night to her elegant home in Spixworth, Norwich, Norfolk, England. Everywhere was closed at nine, so we headed to the local chippy for a kebab. Then, just as the amazing sister she is, she made herself a make-shift bed with cushions and we moved in for the comfiest sleep we've had for a long time.

March 31st


The day started walking Claire’s lil Wispa. Then when Claire returned from work, we went on the hunt for essentials. Bought a mobile phone for £5 and helped Claire with her new kit. But the DVD player was not working. Jason, one of Claire’s friends who is/pretends to be a whiz kid sorted everything out. George was categorically not allowed to touch a thing. We're talking a 32-inch plasma TV with 5'+ speakers that seem to dwarf everything in the room. The DVD player looks like it came back from the future to gloat. Obviously, the first time we had set it up there were some "technical difficulties" relating to a blank menu screen.


April 1st


This afternoon, Claire took us for a truly British treat: a trip to a carvery. For those of you who weren't born and bred in rural England, this means a trip to a local upscale pub or downscale hotel where they serve a roast buffet complete with all the trimmings: gravy, Yorkshire pudding and all sorts of vegetables.

The three of us feasted for a mere £3.50 a plate. I think, unfortunately, that figure may also be close to the staff's hourly wage. When we asked one waiter for some cutlery so we could sit outside, he scowled and huffed off. The atmosphere suggested we'd insulted him so much he'd had to pop outside for a fag. Eventually, he returned and thrust the jumble of knives and forks into my hand, mumbling about how he'd have to go outside to get them at the end. "Oh, and also," I'd wanted to say, "can I get some fresh ground pepper and a sprig of rosemary for this? Thanks, doll."

We headed into the city (for Norwich apparently is allowed that label) to do a bit of shopping. George and Claire had some errands to run, but I saw a Primark and was gone with the wind. Forty-five minutes later, I had about 600 items in the basket, and was using all my rugby moves to make it through the line unscathed. Going round the corner? Drop your shoulder, put your head down and lean into it. When I finally muscled my way to the front a smiling man rang my items through for me.

"That'll be £20.15, minus your VAT refund."

Whose ever heard of a tax decrease? What a world.

"Fantastic," I said, "Primark is so inexpensive, I glad I got in here before you guys were closed down for all that child labour you're using, eh?"

His face fell about forty feet. "We buy in bulk, so we get big factory discounts" he protested meekly.

"I'm buying in bulk. Can I get a discount?"

" I don't think that would be fair to the kids."

Touché, Primark salesman.

Once we'd arrived back home we started the evil task of assembling Claire's brand-new home theatre for the second time. This set is kitted out, I tell you, and so after everything was repackaged and replaced, the second time around set up was faster. We broke in the set by watching Simon Pegg play a cop who's too hard-working for his own good and gets transferred from London to some rural town as punishment. Hey, it's not so bad here!


April 2nd


Took the bus to London, because the train was unreasonably expensive. Went to the park to enjoy the sunshine and a couple of bevvies. Relaxed at Jamie's.



April 3rd



George's birthday! The big 2-4. The day arrived with an invigorating chill. Went out to the local Mexican restaurant for some amazing birthday fajitas. Got home, started the party. Met Olga (eventually) and went to a bongo club, where Jamie and his sister met us and we whiled the night away dancing and merry-making.



April 4th



Woke up a bit groggy but headed out into the fresh air to find a football stadium called 'the Den'. Watched Millwall pound the opposition 3-1 and absorbed the truest of footy environments. I couldn't believe the mouth on the five-year-old behind me! The main chant of Millwall is “nobody likes us, we don’t care.” After the game we stopped in a bookmakers to see if our horses had won the National only to find that a 100-1 had come in and everyone had lost their money. Back on Chaldon road, we cooked up some beef garahm masala and went to the club where Jamie was playing DJ with a good old friend from Notting Hill Carnival days, Alistair, and partied the night away admiring the cool beats and vibrant fish tank.



April 5th


Lazy Sunday. Hung around Jamie's yard watching football and generally lounging around. At one point, we even made it down the road for McDonald's. George and I went to Pizza Express for dinner - it was a real treat, familiar and comforting.



April 8th


Collected the rental car and drove to Dad's for supper. It was fantastic to see all in good health and Sika, who was just a puppy the last time I’d seen her, had doubled in size and maturity.


April 9th


Drove to Manchester to hang out with Bebe! She took us out to a medic party, where George saw his friends Luca and Craig. George Allison, George's flatmate from St. Andrews, was also there, as was Niamh. It was a great reunion! The downside was that the bar which was hired for the event, Sublime, was too small for the amount of people. It is such a nice feeling having so many future doctors around should anyone drink too much, it was a moral hazard though as they were the ones who were stumbling around shouting at lampposts and what-not.


April 10th


Intimate double-date with Bebe, James, Katherine and George. Bebe cooked up an absolutely famous steak dinner, complete with hand-made chips that I MUST make when I get back home. Thank-you Bebe, for adding to the list of foods I now cannot live without. (On a side-note, Pret a Manger has come to the U.S. and has been rated by Zagat as “The best British import since the Beatles.”


April 11th


We packed our bags, and got some provisions for the journey. About 45 minutes into the journey, Bebe called and announced that she’d just found George’s camera while cleaning up the attic. After much deliberation, we turned around and headed back. I got to hug Bebe again (bonus!) but half an hour later she called again. Our hearts dropped when we saw the call display. Katherine’s ipod had been discovered in the speakers… $%*£ !!!!! Happily, Bebe agreed to post it to West Overton, so this time we were on our way for real. There’s always something pulling us back to Manchester, though.

We dropped the rental car off down an obscure alley in Bath, and waited at a picturesque pub on the river Kennet for Charles. I dove right back into my deliciously trashy book, Eclipse, which had been sadly neglected. We enjoyed an early dinner and then watched The Apprentice, which I have no patience for. All these whiny people should be fired, I think. ‘Sir Allen’ (as he pompously insists on being called) can do it all himself if he has nothing nice to say.



April 12th


In the morning, we discovered the Easter Bunny had come! After we ate a bit of chocolate for breakfast, the three of us dressed in our Sunday best and headed to the local church in Neston, where George had been baptized. The service was very interesting, and in many ways similar to the Catholic service. Everyone drinks wine from the same cup (swine flu, anyone?) and the words to the hymn were sometimes the same but the tunes were all off. Strangely, the hymn book doesn’t have the notes, so everyone sings whichever tune they feel like.

Afterwards, we went and visited the family plot out back. There’s a huge gravestone saying GEORGE MICHAEL FLEETWOOD FULLER with an empty grave (just kidding about that part, I might have pushed him in to lighten the mood.) We stood around pondering the meaning of existence and the timing of lunch.

After lunch, we squeezed in the car with the dogs and headed to the cousins' alpaca farm at Ashcroft for supper, near Nailsworth (in case you want to check it out on Google Earth, dad).

Kit cooked up a most fantastic meal ("You like the venison? I marinaded it buttermilk for three days...") and ten of us sat around a huge table in their beautiful, stone-cold mansion drinking wine and passing the gravy for warmth.

The group was George's loud and beautiful extended family and one house-master. Conversation was hilarious, and the girls rotated seats at dessert.

After dinner came after-dinner drinks (naturally). Over whiskey and coffee in the charming sitting room, we chatted and got progressively warmer. Once we were too warm, we took the dogs (>8) on a walk through the country-side, swathed in darkness.

It was treacherous, but we felt bad for Thisbe and Sika, who had been confined to the back of the Merc and were glad of the fresh air. There were they only white dogs, so they were the only ones we could see! April 13th We missed the morning walk but feasted again at breakfast after meeting the alpacas. We drove to Bryony's to celebrate Easter Monday at the Lemon Tree Cottage. She cooked us a beautiful roast lamb, and we sat bathed in candlelight and the warmth of the fire drinking champagne until the wee hours.

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Photos

Milwall
"Nobody likes us, we don't care"

Alpaca
Cross between a camel and a sheep, really.

George clips Freddy
and they both love it