Flying over London in the final approach the familiar skyline appeared to me to be unchanged over the past 4 years despite the Shard and the Olympics. The undercarriage clunks reassuringly as I take my last look at the Thames glinting in the dawn sunlight.
I dread Heathrow with its low ceilings, poor lighting, and endless walkways. This time however it's A Singapore Experience without queuing I glide effortlessly through Passport Control flashing the red royal coat of arms, my two suitcases jauntily present themselves as I approach the baggage carousel and whoosh in a blink of an eye I am through Green Customs and instantly spot the tall familiar figure of My Friend Barry.
Within 25 minutes I am drinking a hot cup of strong English tea chatting to Pam and Barry in their cosy Teddington kitchen.
Although the sky is grey and there is a persistent London drizzle, shirtsleeves are the go. I accompany Barry The project manager down to The Paddocks Allotments to meet an architect and builder to discuss the rebuilding of burnt out tea room stables. This act of vandalism occurred seven years previously but such is the nature of local community democracy,historic buildings,and royal park administrators it is only now that the "can do"Lithuanian builders are on site with their mandatory hi viz vests and helmets and, incongruously, flip flops on their feet.
There is much amusement at the expense of the heavily muscled builders as the architect relays the story of the breathless fifty year old allotment lady who insisted on them stripping off their tops for the photo shoot to appear in the allotment web newsletter.
I soon tire of talk of purlins and payment schedules and wander off to look at the abundance of veggies fruit and flowers growing in the beautifully cultivated English home county soil. It is so quiet as the Paddocks Allotments border the Bushy cricket club and the royal park beyond, we could be in the middle of the countryside.
Returning to the site meeting I hear about the issue du jour which is taxing the Lottie holders that of a gooseberry thief, apparently some immoral person or persons unknown have been stealing gooseberries from the plants stripping them of all the fruit.
Mmm much head shaking.the Lithuanians look non plussed.
Barry and I move onto Kingston town centre to buy a phone and SIM plus shoes for the forthcoming wedding. I was struck by the politeness of everybody and their helpfulness.
I succeeded in staying awake until 10.30 pm but am wide awake at 3.30 am, oh well. At 9.30am Barry and I depart on our journey north. Pam is much relieved as she is creating a masterpiece of a wedding cake for a friend's wedding in 3 days time, she needs total concentration with no distractions.
We drive up the North Circular past Hangar Lane which must be one of the least attractive areas of London it seems untouched since the last time I was there thirty years ago.
Driving up the A1 to Peterborough I am impressed by the discipline of the drivers and their courtesy to each other. Peterborough is a cathedral town and the final resting place of Henry VIII First wife, Catherine of Aragon. We meet Olive, Barry's Mum off the York train, and drive across the country to Norfolk where she lives in a little cottage set in a delightfully English cottage garden.
However, an incident mars the day, weak with hunger we go to a pub that Barry knows which does great food but alas we arrive at 1405 and the triumphal barmaid informs us the kitchen closes at 1400 well it was a Michael Douglas moment as we hadn't eaten since breakfast luckily no pool cue in sight so grumbling like grumpy old men we set off in a spurt of gravel with Barry swearing he was going to write to the chairman of The Greene King brewery.
The next day we left at noon after a lovely time with Olive who is a most hospital and kind lady,Norfolk is a pretty county and boasts being the home and birthplace of Nelson and as I later discovered from my nephew Simon the home to Robert Walpole the first British PM.
Barry and I have lunch within the curtilage of Heathrow in the Renaissance Hotel, the third Test is being televised and the Aussies are looking confident at 2 for 99.
The smiling face of the gorgeous Birgitte greeted me at Copenhagen Airport and we train into the centre where the place is humming in the warm night after a quick beer with Birgitte and Martin.
I sleep well in my tiny cabin room at the Budget Hotel and after a terrific breakfast I am off to the Central Railway Station where it's Intelligence Test Time to buy a ticket. I pass! But can't say the same for a Danish couple in front of me who prodded every button on the machine with increasing frustration and with one last vicious double knuckle punch walked off swearing....
The 25 min flight to Bornholme is hot, the air con is out,my companion is a young motor cyclist who stuffs a huge motorbike helmet under the seat I wonder aloud if he is a nervous flyer he burst into laughter and we had a good chat it turns out he is a doctor at the local hospital.
Vivacious and tanned the lovely Lisbeth (the MOTB) is there to greet me with the MOTG. Everyone is in a holiday mood, Bornholm is a holiday island, and the day is perfect no clouds no wind 25 c. Lisbeth takes the scenic tour along the coast pointing out the wedding church.
All the wedding guests have been put up in a boarding school where of course the students are on holiday it is a stroke of genius as there is loads of space for the marquee,games of football,croquet and whatever else takes your fancy, Martin is soon planning 3 legged races,sack races egg and spoon and the recently introduced backward running 100 m sprint.
It is warm so we all decide to go to the beach for a swim a 5 min walk along a wooded path. Fresh is a good word to describe the Baltic water just what the doctor ordered after the sweaty flight.
The Rehearsal Dinner is a fantastic BBQ we all have a great time with lots of laughter,foolishly I am press ganged into a game of football I have to record this.....I scored a hat trick there is much talk of a future at Real Madrid. Simon arrived during the afternoon it is great to see him as he is a wonderful raconteur and wit but he didn't score three goals.
After dinner the entire 75 guests walk down to the beach and under Lisbeth's tutelage we light Thai paper lanterns and in the light of the setting sun they float gently up and across the sea to Sweden it is a wonderful sight.
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