Seven days in dear old Blighty (and getting dearer still as the Euro plummets): four different beds slept in, five different places visited, ten friends encountered and thirteen assorted relatives gathered. It was a busy, tiring and highly enjoyable week.
After a Tuesday afternoon pilgrimage to the Home of Good Football to watch the mighty, all-conquering young Gunners win their second successive championship in an eight goal thriller, Wednesday morning was spent anxiously watching ash cloud reports. The wind stayed beneficent and the flight of la bienheureuse arrived on time and she duly arrived chez the hospitable J&C in good time and a large hire car without a handbrake. A convivial, if over-lubricated evening ensued. Le grand chef cooked courgette soup and venison for nine, Mlle Beaucoup entertained, ma bien-aimée provided champagne and cheese, and the sundry guests (Professor Margarita and accompanying tax lady, the JEboy & his Jlady, and last but not least Mlle H) brought wine, flowers and drunken conversation.
The following morning we walked into Cambridge to clear heads and do some window shopping in John Lewis. The evening was a distinctly quieter and drier affair between four, but leftover venison tasted just as good. In the morning we bade farewell to our generous hosts and set off for Cheshire in our swish limousine, avoiding hill starts at all costs. Via a stop for provisions in Whitchurch, we reached Tattenhall, settled in and supped on takeaway curry with frère numéro un who was the first guest to arrive for part one of the great fiftieth celebrations (family edition). Baby bro and la colombiana número dos arrived later in the evening, and Saturday morning dawned bright and dry. A squirrel survived a close encounter with a cat and le frère ainé was dispatched to Gawsworth to collect les nièces et neveux while la bienheureuse and I fretted, fiddled and improvised in the kitchen, carrying out preparatory cuisine for the evening banquet.
The afternoon was taken up with a visit to Chester zoo. We met la soeur et les enfants there, and spent a pleasant four hours watching animals, braving bat caves and licking ice cream. Thence back to la maison de la belle mère for dinner. Tartiflette and tarte tatin went down very well, holiday photos from Patagonia were admired, and by eleven pm young eyelids were drooping. Four children and six adults found floor or bed space and slept on full tummies and memories of a happy day.
Sunday morning we all set off for east Cheshire, to meet frère number 3 and la belle-soeur at the Leathers Smithy for a grand lunch en famille. A table for twelve had been booked, la nièce numéro trois took orders, and we feasted on steak, duck, thai green curry and salmon, followed by chocolate fudge cake, sticky toffee pudding and ice cream. After a family photo session and recovery period in Gawsworth, we said our goodbyes and went on our separate ways. La bienheureuse and I drove straight to north Wales for a second family meet-up and yet more food and beer. Digestion continued unabated through the night and into the next morning.
Ma bien-aimée spent the morning restoring her mother's house to order while I helped, hindered, and organised accommodation for the next two nights. Le grand dude and lady K offered us shelter and delicious fruit cake on Monday night, baby T provided entertainment, and the evening was completed by a curry dinner with the Margarita Man and the Caipirinha Kid at Cocum.
On Tuesday we shifted base yet again, in my case completing the circle to return to the house built by the gardiner. Another chicken and salad dinner followed with the former Jogwig, Ken the customs lady and our host. A week of wining, dining and socialising takes its toll, so we felt exhausted as we rose early the following morning. After getting fleeced by the low cost orange airline for 3 kg of excess baggage, we arrived home to sunshine and a chilly northerly gale. It seemed strange to find Lyon cooler than Cambridge, but today the weather is warmer. Summer is at last promised for the weekend…
