So, as Delia described in her blog last week, we had ourselves a Farewell UK Tour. Here is a bit of photographic detail – not a comprehensive diary like Delia’s (so don’t feel left out anyone if I didn’t have my camera handy).
After arriving at Liverpool Street station from Stansted, Delia had wanted to have lunch in, of all places, a Wetherspoons pub. Not renowned for its style, this particular site was rather speccie (see what I did there for my Aussie readers?).
We planned to look at some of the architecture on our way to a place I had arranged to fix the broken screen on my smartphone. Weather mostly dreadful, Spitalfields mostly closed and Leadenhall mostly under tarpaulins. I did, however, manage to take some photos of the remarkable architectural style juxtaposition when I came back to pick up my phone.
A night in Wimbledon and off to my brothers in Buckinghamshire. Food, walks, great nephew and more food.
Back to London to meet up with K at St Pancras, hotel then back to the station for afternoon tea at St Pancras Hotel. Champagne, cucumber sandwiches (and more) a variety of teas including cold sparkling Jasmine – petit fours and scones with cream.
Theatre that evening (photos not permitted 🙂 ) and then meetup with H on the Friday and off to the Wallace Collection (no relation unfortunately, though we made much of having our own Wallace Collection back in France – my, how we laughed).
Greek dinner that evening then goodbye to H off home to Aberdeen and us off to Leicester. We went onto T&R’s whilst K went to an ex-work colleague’s. That evening T&R and us met up with B&S for some pub grub. Brunch with K the next morning she headed off home herself. We though, headed off to Bradgate Park for a bracing walk.
On to Nottingham for our last stop at M&S. More relaxing though we did have a day out at Ilam and Dovedale.
And so back to France tired but happy.
Back to preparing for leaving for Oz. Things on Facebook marketplace. Including, I felt a bit late, our car. But no, before I had a chance to advertise it elsewhere I had a buyer from the other side of Limousin. I had spent quite a bit of time cleaning inside and out. I totally forgot that there had been some seed pods and leaves stuck down the bonnet hinge line. When I opened it there was a whole batch of hazelnut shells. And the under-bonnet insulation was bulging with leaves and the like. I was a bit embarrassed and made a joke that I wouldn’t charge extra for the nut shells. All was fine, even with the hour or so it took us to go through all the bureaucratic rigmarole the French make you go through for the selling process. Our faithful Fiesta headed off into the sunset in good hands. It was only after they had left, seeing the handfules of fluff and nuts that it occurred to me that it was a squirrel nest. I have wondered about the leaves and such since we seldom parked actually under a tree. But we had seen a squirrel out and about the garden, and there was a hazel tree near the car. So either there’s a hibernating squirrel having had an unexpected trip or one at least wondering where his home had gone.