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Published: August 30th 2018
Liverpool Rail Station
I was the first passenger on the train.
Oh, my giddy aunt, what a sweet little house I’ve lucked into! My “host” Christina (an Egyptologist professor at East Angola Uni) is a young woman of exceptional taste - as you can see from the accompanying photos (some are panoramic, to give a sense of whole rooms).
After a final neighborhood stroll through Notting Hill this morning, I headed for the Tube and national rail stations, with only slight confusion, few missteps, and as always, lots of help. One off-duty railway attendant carried my (37 lb.) bag up a flight of steps, across a bridge, and down a flight to get me to the correct platform/train. When I asked him, “Were you going that way?” he replied, “I am now.” 😅
The journey through Suffolk (Constable country) took two hours, and I had the Quiet Car pretty much all to myself.
Christina generously ”collected“ me at the station, gave me a tour of her village of Bawburgh (“BoBbrrro”), the nearest shops, the basics of her car and her home before scooting into London herself, on her way to her flat in Turin. I wasted no time unpacking, settling in and starting a load of laundry 😉
Miss Winifred, 13, is a calm, loving, cunning ball of shedding fur. She spends her time napping, patrolling the bird feeders, and mousing in the garden. She’s already managed to move supper up by half and hour...
And so, I’ve a month to explore Norfolk and Suffolk, and I suspect they’ll be more charming and quaint than their Virginia namesake counties... (no offense, Commonwealth friends). I’m happily ensconced in the conservatory, doors flung open for evening air, with a glass of Sangiovese and the Bose streaming jazz from Portland, Oregon.
Lord, you could take me now...but wait just a while, more, OK?
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