Back Down South

Dad had suggested an afternoon tea somewhere (very cute of him to ask mum, "Do you think Katie might like...?") I did like. Very much. We had pots of tea and plates of sandwiches and fancy tarts at the Compleat Angler, looking at the river as it flowed past, although we weren't seated on the terrace as it began to rain. It really was a most enjoyable way to spend an afternoon.

Mum is overwhelmed by the tea tray

Dad plays peek-a-boo with the scones

The company is great and the view's not bad either.

All Saints' Church, Marlow

Dad at the Compleat Angler

Dinner with friends at Cousin Rachael's place was a lovely way to spend an evening.

Our Man in London with the little person

Family portrait

Cousin Rachael and I went to see Henry V at The Globe. I will write more about this spectacular performance, but here are a few pictures of the venue. As we were groundlings (standing in the yard for $5) our pre-show drinks of Pimm's and cider cost more than our tickets. For some reason this amused me.

The Globe Theatre

Cousin Rachael checks out the programme

We ended up with a lovely walk from Marlow to Turville. The Chiltern Hills are absolutley gorgeous!

Looking back at Marlow

Dad and Cousin Rachael in the leafy lanes

Half-time refreshments at the Prince Albert

Fingest

Turville

The windmill at Turville

Highlights from Home

Mother has hung the flags out, ready for Olympic supporters from around the world.

The garden looks full of life - both plant and bird.





Whenever I get to Marlow, one of the first things I do is walk down by the river, where I have spent many a happy hour.



According to my brother-in-law, my father has the worst collection of tools ever. He has a strange assortment of odds and ends, not wanting to ever throw anything away. But should I ever need an old plug or door handle, I know where to look.



Another great thing to do in Marlow is the Rebellion Brewery Tour on the first Tuesday of the month. Highly recommended by Dad and me, as you can see.



Mark Gloyens gives a talk to the punters

Week Thirty-Nine: End of the line

On a walk around Cookham I love the lines, shapes and patterns, made by the Chiltern flint in the buildings, brick alleyways, light through trees, ploughed fields, reeds in water, and red kites and vapour trails criss-crossing the sky.

 

 

In Pinner, we stayed with friends Jen and John and admired their conservatory and their local shop, which apparently stocks all you could possibly want.

 

On our last day in Blighty, we went for another walk along my beloved River Thames. It's a great way to bookend our visit.

 

Week Thirty-Five: Half a World Away

Driving up to Christchurch airport we pass Lake Dunstan. It is cold, still, and clear. I am not going to see conditions like this for a while, so I whip out the camera kerbside and snap a few scenic shots.

Singapore airport is hot and steamy and in the butterfly house there is a lot of feeding and breeding going on. I have to wait for my lens to demist.

In Marlow, walks with family take us along the river, through the woods and into pubs - funny that.

Of course, we linger to reminisce by Bisham Church where we got married eight years ago.

I've always loved haybales, or Dougals as they are more familiarly known. There is something about their symmetry and shape which feels very picturesque - although I'm not so keen on seeing them in their black plastic body bags.

Marlow Church, bridge and lock look stunning in the morning light.

I once read a novel by Colette in which a character who grew up by the Marne says that he thought Marne was the word for river - I understood how he felt. The Thames was my river; it underlined my childhood like a wavy blue/green highlighter.

We had our wedding reception at Court Garden, although the statue of Sir Steven wasn't there then - I think it makes a pretty good addition.

Whenever Him Outdoors sees Chiltern stone buildings on the TV dramas, he helpfully points out, 'That's Round Your Way'. He's right; here is a fine example of said stone.

 

And here are my neiblings (a nice combined word for neices and nephews) playing at Burnham Beeches (they were fine after the initial shock that it wasn't 'that sort of beach'. How young is too young to know the word homonymn, do you think?