On Our Way

We are heading away for a trip to the UK, so just getting everything in order before we depart. This is the latest development of the book pile on the bedside table. 

Bedside books

This is the first time we are travelling on our Australian passports, so we bought them a drink at the airport.

I really dislike airports, but I will make an exception for Singapore with its displays of greenery and its curry puffs.

It's always pleasing when the luggage arrives safely. The monkey luggage label (a parting gift from a friend) looks happy too.

Naturally our first stop was at home with my parents in Marlow. And that involved a walk to the pub for a pint and scampi and chips (with mushy peas). It's good to be back. 

 

In the morning I walked down to the lock; it's always nice and peaceful and still because I have jet-lag so I get up early before anyone else is about. 

Later Him Outdoors attempted to show Dad how to look up directions on his phone: it was less the blind leading the blind than the incompetent leading the ignorant, but they were both patient and I think the lesson was learned...

And then we set off to visit friends in Kent; we had arranged to meet three groups of disparate people and hoped that they would all get on. They certainly seemed to, but then again, other than us, they also have pubs and beer in common.

Friends from abroad in the Halfway House

And back at the cocktail parlour, (home of The Mover and The Shaker) our charming hostess made us negronis while we fell asleep on the sofa watching Strictly Come Dancing; good friends are a wonderful gift.

The Shaker at the home cocktail cabinet

The next morning we admired their wonderful house and then we all went for a walk round the leafy country lanes and the villages.

A selection of incredible wallpaper

The shed at the bottom of the garden...

...is actually some sort of Scandinavian smoking den

The orchard justifies the county's 'Garden of England' tag, and those apples were delicious!

Snigger

One of the things every English country village needs is a postbox in a hedge.

Another is a nineteenth-century Gothic-style church with a 'featured local' grave. St Luke's (built 1874-1876) graveyard includes the final resting place of Matfield resident Teresa Sassoon (nee Thornycroft), gifted sculptor and painter, and mother of leading WWI poet, Siegfried.

Any self-respecting village also needs a green on which to play cricket, park ice-cream vans, and position benches under spreading horse chestnut trees so that conkers can fall on one's head while one tries to indulge in quiet contemplation of bucolic life. Fortunately Matfield has all of this; in fact it proudly claims to have the largest village green in Kent. So there. 

Him Outdoors with The Shaker (waiting for the sky to fall in)

The village shop is obviously a local treasure, and if it is prepared to wrap your produce in paper and put your dairy products in bottles, then you know you're onto a winner. 

All this is all very well, of course, but the reputation of a village rests upon its pub - and The Poet (presumably named in honour of the aforementioned Siegfried) is very fine indeed. 

It was all too short a visit, but we had a great time. I love how our friendships remain through years and miles. We didn't know each other when we both lived in Marlow, met in Queenstown, and met up again in Kent; hence a photo beneath a picture of The Remarkables seemed appropriate.