More Tea, Vicar? or Poop poop

This post is dedicated to Jackie and Simon. There they are, posing with Ben and Tifanny (Ben and Tiffany are the ones with the fluffy ears).



Aren't they adorable?

I thought to give you a wordy account of my trip, starting from when I arrived at the airport (Heathrow, of course) and got mangled in a throng of the patiently weary travellers (so much so, that poor Simon who had arrived on time to pick me up had to wait all of two hours and drive back to Poole for about one and a half hours) to Jackie (who would have come but she was working, also she didn't realise the immigration would take as long as it did), but after making such a promising start (in wordiness, if nothing else, I am Indian after all, and wordiness is in the blood) I have decided to spare you.

OK Jack and Simon, this was going to be longer but I just received a call from the airport which has confirmed that my bag (oh happy day calloo callay) is in and I am off to get it.

I had a great time. We saw lots of things. They took me for tea in a variety of twee places. We went to Bath and Chawton and Steventon and had a real Jane Austen fest (during this time, I re-read Pride and Prejudice and watched the Colin Firth version as well as Emma Thompson's Sense and Sensibility) and indulged in an orgy of Austen-ism. Jackie and I have been fans since we were kids.

(Now that I have read her biography, I think that...OK, OK I won't spoil it for you. Just to tell you, I finished, this AM)

Simon and I earwigged on a variety of interesting conversations (Jackie is not as nosey as we are) and compared notes later. He was more discreet than I was. Hmmmm...have to work on that.

They both showed me the best time. This is the most fun I've ever had in that sceptred isle. (I think I got that quote wrong but I only read Richard II four times, only enough to pass the test, after which I forgot the quotes...yes? no?)

OK, off to airport now. Hope the customs people are kind. I am a bedraggled sorry sight and have not brushed my teeth in 48 hours (because my toothbrush was in my bag and I was too lazy to buy another)

Update: My suitcase (or rather, Julie's) is now safely in my hands. It has been unpacked. It is broken due to rough handling but the airline has promised to either fix or replace it. On the road to the airport the ornamental bougainvilla bushes started shedding petals which skittered across the street in a truly ghostly fashion, as if strewing the path for a wedding. I felt a little freaked out. Partly cos I had lost my way and ended up driving to Negri and doubling back.

I found the downy feather I picked up in a field near Longworth in my bag. Also the flint from Burley, the twig from Oxford and the conkers from wherever Simon's mother got them from. And the lavender from Sussex. But I lost the fragrant pine leaves from the tree at the back of Jane Austen's house. They all go into a magic England box. (I know I said I was no longer into kooky stuff...I lied)