My dear family & friends
I realise my missives have become less frequent. I can give you three possible and very good reasons for this: 1) I may not have done terribly much and have had little to report; 2) I may have been very busy and not had the time to spend a few hours on a letter; or 3) I may not have felt like it. I think that about covers it.
That said, we’ve had a busy two weeks of entertainment, entertaining and travelling about the countryside with Lucia’s mother, Ann. I shall begin at the beginning two weekends ago when Lucia and I went to London for the annual Daisy Ball at The Grosvenor Hotel on Park Lane. The Ball is the main revenue source for a leukaemia foundation called The Anthony Nolan Trust. Lucia’s company buys a table at the ball each year and sends some senior directors along to entertain major clients. Lucia booked us in to the hotel overnight which required some logistical manoeuvring to ensure that our family of dogs and cats wouldn’t feel abandoned. In the end, Lucia easily persuaded a member of her team, who is a dog lover and whom she felt to be eminently trustworthy to dogsit overnight. We caught the train to London on Saturday morning carefully carrying Lucia’s dress and my tuxedo in suit bags and pulling a small suitcase behind us. At Marylebone Station we opted for a taxi rather than lugging our evening wear around on the tube. I was surprised at how cheap the fare was; I’d expected it to be much more expensive. At the hotel a doorman took our few pieces of luggage and gave us a chit to claim them back later when we checked in. We went straight out for a sight-seeing walk. I led Lucia to Marylebone High Street were we enjoyed morning coffee at a favourite coffee shop of my sister, Barbara.
In the early afternoon we met our London-South African friends Johan and Linda after they had written their “Britishness” exam which is a requirement for UK citizenship. They tell us it was easy, both of them finishing the 45 minute multiple choice test in under 15 minutes. Lucia was much relieved to hear it as she will also have to write the test next year.
We got back to the hotel late afternoon in order to give Lucia enough time to get ready - which seemed to involve an awfully long time in the bathroom. Understanding that this would be the case, I took myself for another exploratory walk in the rarefied air that is the wealthy ghetto of Belgravia. The cold wind that rattled down roads and alleys and around embassies was only occasionally broken by the soft whisper of a passing Bentley or the throaty roar of a Lamborghini. I wound my way down to the expensive bodegas and restaurants around Shepherd Market, passed the heavily guarded Saudi Arabian embassy on Curzon Street, and back up to the hotel.
The evening was interesting and quite a bit of fun too. Obviously one had to be aware that this was a business do for Lucia and thus remain “professional” while being entertaining. You know what I mean. (You can see a picture of our group here.) But I must say that the ball was a really slick performance. The food was good, the wine was above average, and the entertainment very worthwhile with everything from singing and dancing troupes to tumblers and acrobats. The main event of the evening was an auction which was a bit boring but is obviously the big money spinner for the foundation. For any rugby fans out there, the auctioneer was Martin Bayfield, former British Lion and England International. No, I hadn’t heard of him either, but I did rather enjoy his story of how he learned that he had been dropped from the England team at some point: “The coach put up a list of the team, and I wasn’t fucking in it.” The coach was in the audience. The evening was rounded out by a concert which included a performance by Heather Small of MPeople. Lucia and I eventually traipsed off to bed at around 2AM.
Next morning we surfaced at around 9AM to give us enough time to have breakfast and checkout. I only mention this because we were seated near a woman whose table manners had us both choking down our gag reflexes. Honestly, we would have done better not to have bothered with breakfast at all. It left me feeling queasy for the rest of the day.
I’ll jump a couple of days to Wednesday morning when Lucia and I rose with the sparrows to fetch her mother at Heathrow Airport. One hears the stories, but I had no idea how busy the M25 ring road around London would be at 06h30. The traffic was bumper-to-bumper moving along at 30mph. Still, we made it in time to greet Ann as she walked through customs. Well, when I say we made it in time, I mean we made it with about three minutes to spare, just enough time for me to answer a call of nature. We hustled Ann out the airport double pace to minimise the extortionate parking fees the Spaniards need to charge to pay for buying Heathrow. I hope they go bust.
We stopped at Oxford Services on the way home to catch our breath and have a cup of coffee ... I mean a soup bowl of coffee, the smallest size they had. Why do they do that? I’m sure they think they’re giving customers value, but actually it’s just annoying.
Let me step up the pace here just to focus on the highlights. At the weekend (that’s two weekends ago) we took Ann to Stratford. (You can see the pictures in the usual spot at http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/llewellynijones.) We visited the church on the banks of The Avon were Shakespeare was christened and buried, and strolled around the medieval streets absorbing the bustle and ambience. We took lunch at the cafe of the Royal Shakespeare Company’s temporary abode while the Company’s traditional home is being redeveloped. It was such a glorious day that we stopped at Sainsbury’s on the way home to pick up the goodies we would need for a braai (Brit: barbecue), only our second of the year. On Sunday morning we took Ann to the large car boot sale at Leamington Rugby Club, and then whisked her in to Leamington to experience what turned out to be the rather forgettable Leamington Spa Canal Festival. Well, forgettable in my opinion, but then I’ve got used to the canal and the boats as I walk the dogs along the towpaths nearly every day. Ann loved seeing the boats. We also stopped off at the Pump Room Gardens to view the wares at the regular summer plant sale. Edgar annoyed one of the stallholders by nearly knocking him off his feet as he chased after Hazel on open ground. It was one of those situations that I struggle to read here. You get some people who gush over dogs, and others that display extreme dispassion towards them and their owners, and seem to seek confrontation. This twit fell into the latter category. I have learned to dismiss them with a look: you look them up and down, and then ignore them. It relies on all sorts of social signals that we are slowly learning. In South Africa we would just tell them to fuck off (although I hasten to add that’s the royal “we” as I’m sure Lucia would insist on being excluded from that sentiment.)
Lucia took leave last week and put it to good use showing her mother the sights of the surrounding area. On Monday they toured around Leamington Spa/Warwick and on Tuesday they went down to Broadway, Chipping Camden and Hidcote Manor Gardens while I hacked away at the neighbour’s Leylandii hedge which was creeping into our garden. I can’t remember what happened on Wednesday, but on Thursday we took Ann to lunch at Hatton Locks and on Friday we took her to Oxford.
On the way to Oxford we stopped at Wytham, a village owned by the University of Oxford. This was a trip down memory lane for Ann who stayed at Wytham Abbey in 1950 when she was studying in London. The then owners of the Abbey and the village, the ffenells, were friends of Ann’s family dating back to the time just after the Boer War when Lieutenant-Colonel Raymond ffennell was the commanding officer of the Witswatersrand Rifles. The village and the estate were bequeathed to the university on the death of the last of the ffennel family. Nearly sixty years later Ann was thrilled to relive the exceptional experience. The grounds of the abbey are surrounded with "private property: no trespassing” signs, but I found someone who told us to go right ahead anyway.
And all that brings us to this past weekend. On Saturday we had Roger and Judith Foster around for lunch. Roger and Judith are parents to Charles who was Lucia’s boss in SA. In one of those amazing twists of fate they are also acquainted with Ann through one of Ann’s childhood friends. On Sunday morning we all took the dogs for a walk around Newbold Comyn and down to the river near Offchurch Bury. Sunday afternoon Lucia and I were glued to the Spanish F1 Grand Prix.
Tomorrow morning I’m driving Ann down to Cardiff where she will spend a week with her sister-in-law, Lorna. After that she’s going to spend a couple of days in London with more family before returning to us here in Leamington Spa.
That’s it for now
Love, light & peace
Llewellyn
