Dear Family & Friends, 28 June
Lucia has her new car. It’s a tanzanite-blue Mercedes C180 Compressor which was delivered to her office on the back of a great big truck on Friday morning. (You can see a picture of her posing with her new chariot in the usual place at http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/llewellynijones.) Ironically it comes from the Mercedes-Benz plant at East London in South Africa. She didn’t tell me it was due for delivery preferring to keep it as a surprise. I took it out for a drive as soon as she got home and I was most impressed not to mention a touch envious. It’s comfortable and it goes like clappers with a little bit of pressure from the right foot. Otherwise is drifts serenely along. It’s got a few neat little bells and whistles which Lucia is learning how to use from the rather chunky manual that is delivered with the car. I think the styling is fantastic too; it exudes a rakish gravitas (if that’s not too much of an oxymoron.)
The other very important feature of the week for Lucia was her haircut last Saturday. You will recall that this was the third hairdresser Lucia was trying in her quest to find a stylist who understands what she wants. As my friend Denise in Cape Town said: “As for the quest for the least scary hairdresser, tell her I can relate! There is nothing more upsetting than leaving the house looking like yourself and returning much poorer with an identity crisis!!” An expensive identity crisis! -- I thought that was rather good and oh so true. So let me say here that we were both much pleased with the outcome. I think the photographs that Lucia took along of her last haircut in SA played an important part of ensuring that she got what she wanted. Lucia said the stylist referred to them several times. But isn’t that so true of everything; if you want something done properly, draw a diagram. Or maybe that’s just the male view. Anyway, the success at the hairdresser meant that a celebration was in order, so we went out for dinner to the Portuguese restaurant I found last week. It’s a really lovely little place and I’m certain we’ll be frequenting the establishment quite often.
I was watching the TV news on Tuesday morning when they had an insert about the town of Ironbridge just outside Telford which is about 50 miles away. (I remember watching part of the Euro 2004 soccer cup final between Portugal and Greece at the Telford services. I was driving back from the christening of Andreas and Michelle’s daughter Natasha at Dolwydellan near Betws-y-Coed in North Wales to Luton Airport to catch a flight to Portugal.) Ironbridge is in the Severn Valley and is named for the fact that it has the world’s first ever iron bridge. Wikipedia says it’s the “birthplace of the Industrial Revolution" because it’s near the place where Abraham Darby perfected the technique of smelting iron with coke (rather than charcoal), allowing iron to be produced much more cheaply. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ironbridge). So I loaded the dogs in the back of the car and off we went to Ironbridge. It’s a fantastic place; this is a beautiful part of the Severn Valley with a rich history and several excellent museums. (http://www.ironbridge.org.uk/) Having the dogs with me limited what I could do, but I walked around the area for a couple of hours and ended it with lunch at a pub alongside the river. I’m looking forward to going back with Lucia soon.
Closer to home, I was fascinated watching a funfair being set up in the Pump Room Gardens in Leamington Spa. First to arrive were the caravans of the funfair owners and staff although the word “caravan” doesn’t do justice to one or two of the mobile homes which need powerful trucks to tow them from one venue to the next. Then came the amusements bit by bit, slowly transforming the park into a funfair. We went along yesterday evening to see what the funfair was like in full swing. It was all lit up and sparkling with flashing lights and noisy music and piped laughter coming from all the attractions – but there was nobody there. Yes, okay, there were a few small groups of people milling around in a lacklustre way, occasionally trying out a ride, but that only emphasised the fact that there was nobody banging away on the dodgems, no shrieks from the octopus, no one buying candy floss, no one trying to win outsize teddy bears and other fluffy toys at the impossible (and probably rigged) games of skill. One ride carried the warning: “This is a very boisterous ride! Not suitable for persons of a nervous disposition, persons with a heart condition or expectant mothers. Watch before you ride.” But there was nobody there to pay attention. There’s nothing quite so sad as an empty funfair.
In contrast, the parade along the High Street in Warwick this morning to kick off the Warwick Festival was much better attended, but still a bit thin on the ground. Edgar and Hazel helped swell the numbers. The parade was led by the Town Crier in a bright blue coat and top hat who got the ball rolling with the cry of “Oyez, oyez, oyez.” Behind him was a fire engine followed by the Warwick Girls Marching Band and a couple of floats representing the Scouts and Guides, the Warwick Hospital ... and then we lost interest and went to Cafe Chai for a cappuccino.
Such was our week.
Love, light & peace
Llewellyn
