Top 10 Things I Like about Hay-on-Wye

10. The name is pretty cute. Not as cute as, say, Bigglesbury, or Tootle, or Snooting Bogford, but pretty cute. And the town is devoted to books – must be 25 bookstores here.

 

9 . They have milk delivered (there’s even a glass bottle or two!) to your back door:

8. They sell fascinators at the local store. No sign of anything as fascinating as the complete set of women’s reproductive organs that Princess Beatrice’s wore to the Royal Wedding, but still…

7. You can buy gooseberries at the grocers. But here you must pronounce them ‘Guzbreeies’. I like to call them ‘grossberries’ myself but that won’t fly here.

6. There is a bookstore called ‘Murder and Mayhem’

5. You can actually buy beef dripping at the store. and guess what, it’s ‘Ideal for roasting and chips!’

4. There are several little tea rooms like this one, but this was the cutest.

3. There are random cute things like this brick:

 

2. There are lots of really great farms in the area  and a huge emphasis on organic sustainable production.

 

And the Number One thing I like about this village? It has chosen to twin itself with Timbuktu! Isn’t that awesome? How random! How odd! How delightfully useless!

Zoe could not get her head around the concept of ‘twinned cities’ and asked repeatedly if they looked similar. I suspect not, but I admire their tenacity.

We are off today to a food festival in Hay, and then to an area that is known as ‘The Black and White Villages’. More on that later.

Thanks for reading,

Cheers,

Jane

In Which we Leave London, Arrive in Wales, and find Paradise

Today was a long travel day that began with packing up and leaving our beloved London apartment, taking the tube to Paddington station and catching a train to Newport in Wales. It all went very smoothly except for a minor annoyance which was the handle on my suitcase breaking off. Makes it hard to carry your suitcase up and down the 862 steps that are involved in every trip on the tube. Ah well. Can’t all be sweetness and light I guess.

But speaking of light, Paddington station is quite beautiful. I love these big airy European train stations full of rafters and light and pigeons and lots of people all going in different directions. It makes for an air of anticipation which is much better than an air of, say, drudgery, or resignation that one might find at the greyhound bus depot in Surrey, for example.

We had a moment trying to find the right platform which resulted in a rather difficult conversation between myself and a conductor:

Me: Excuse me which platform is it for the 11:45 to Newport?

Conductor: It’s at 11:45

Me: Yes I know I wondered which platform. It’s not up on the board yet.

Conductor: It will come in at 11:30

Me Ok thanks but to which platform

Conductor: Which platform?

Me (getting a bit ticked by now): Yes. Which platform will the 11:45 to Newport be leaving from?

Conductor: Well you have to check the departures board

Me (in my head) Well here’s a bright one.

Me: It’s not there. There is a blank space next to the word ‘platform’.

Conductor: Oh. Well just go and wait on the main platform and watch the board. Then you’ll be alrigh ya?

Me (in my head) I’ll be more ‘alrigh’ than I am talking to you who clearly knows nothing.

Me: Thanks that was super helpful.

Why do English people always ask you if you’ll be ‘alrigh ya?’ when you are asking them for help?? I don’t know! Will I be alright? That’s kinda what I am asking you.

Anyhoo. We made it onto the train just fine despite having a few extra bags owing to a bit of shopping that was done in the days previous. We also had a bag of food brought from the apartment that my mother had itemised for me several times during the course of her blow-by-blow account of what she had managed to fit where while packing. Don’t get me wrong – she’s very good and very efficient. But it was a bit funny:

My mum: I’ve done all my packing and closed my case and I don’t have room for anything else so could you pack this one Kleenex in your case?

Me: Umm sure if you think you really need…”

My mum: And I’ve managed to fit the Weetabix in this part of this bag and my biscuits are over here and

Me That’s great I’m actually just….

My mum: And I didn’t bring the salad because it’s a bit awkward and

Me: Yes…very awkward I should think

My Mum: but the carrot sticks are here with the fruit. Shall we go now?

Me: Sure yes I’ll just get my things…

The ride was uneventful except for a rewarding trip to the Snack Car for some English treats that we only ever eat on the train, in England.

We arrived in Wales, and had to wait in the station while it rained the entire Atlantic Ocean outside in about 3 minutes. But it was Ok as Jacob was there to entertain us:

We picked up our rental car from the most helpful customer service agent ever at the Europcar location in Newport. This guy was a gem and dealt with an administrative error with amazing efficiency. I actually heard him say, on the phone to head office, “And what exactly are we going to do to solve this problem for our customer?” Brilliant.

So off we went in our Vauxhall Insiginia, which is my new favourite car. After a slight diversion down the M4 in the wrong direction, we soon found our way.

Wales is fiercely independent and insists on being completely bilingual in both English and Welsh so you can’t find a sign, anywhere, no matter how small, that is not in both Welsh and English. It’s all very interesting and would probably mean a lot more if I could pronounce it. But I’m pretty sure that I could spend the rest of my life in Wales and still not be able to pronounce a single word correctly. The closest I can get is to repeat the phrase ‘Szechuan is a dog, Ellen?’ over and over with different cadence and intonation each time. That’ll fool them for sure.

Basically, Welsh consists of what seems to be a random string of consonants, and vowels (mostly a and e) but which upon closer inspection, I have determined must contain at least one ‘c’, one ‘y’, two ‘f’s and must start with two ‘L’s and end with ‘gog’ or ‘lyn’. So without having a pinhead of Welsh in me, I feel confident in saying that “Llaencryffgog” is most certainly a word in Welsh. It’s quite fun making up Welsh words. Go ahead. Try it. See?

Our drive was about an hour and a half and it was late afternoon before we arrived at our home for the next week: Nethouse near Hay-on-Wye, just on the Welsh side of the border. As we approached the house, which is on the Wye river, we all of us were speechless. It must be one of the most beautiful spots in this part of the world. I’ll not try very hard with words but will rely instead on the pictures.

My room…sigh.

Requisite patch of wild strawberries

 

Jacob’s room

Zoe’s little patch of Heaven

Not a TV, but rather the view of the River Wye out the window…

Zoe has taken up calligraphy in her little window seat.

Living room

Boots as needed…

The scullery

Fabulous kitchen. Love the sink.

The view across the river

 

The garden and the wheat field out back. I may try and make a crop circle one night…

I’m pretty sure I have landed in Wind and the Willows-land and will not be surprised if I see a toad walk by in a waistcoat. The house comes with fishing rods, and dip nets, and a little box full of flies for fly-fishing, a fireplace and stacks of wood, chintz curtains, whitewashed walls, flagstone floors, rambling roses, and clawfoot tubs. Moles are in evidence everywhere, herbs in abundance, and you can walk everywhere. I may move here.

Not internet though so I have to walk along the river into the lovely little town of Hay-on-Wye where I am forced to sit at a tea shop where they have free wifi. Well, someone has to do it. It may as well be me.

Thanks for reading – more tomorrow :)

Caerlladogalwn! (I’m pretty sure that’s Welsh for “Cheers” and if it isn’t, well, it is now!)

Jane

In Which we Shop til we Drop, and Discover many Variations on a KFC Theme.

Today was devoted almost entirely to the God of Shopping. All of us prayed at the altar of consumption and some of us left some fairly substantial offerings behind. It all started with a trip to Spitalfields Market a few blocks away in Shoreditch.

This place has gone through many incarnations over several hundred years and finally settled into a funky destination market where one can purchase almost anything.

Me: Is that Chucky?

Cockney Vendor: Is it wot?

Me: Chucky

Vendor: Chunky?

Me: The doll. Is it Chucky. Like from the Movie

Vendor: Wot you on about lufv?

Me: Forget it. Just wondered if the Doll has a name

Vendor: Not wot I know of lufv. Wouldn’t want to name that would you.

Me: Nope

Vendor: Do you want it then lufv?

Me: Oh no. Just thought it was a bit odd.

Vendor: you can hafv it for 20 quid

Me: Twenty for that you must be mad!

Vendor: Wot?

Me: Nothing. Have a nice day!

Much more to our liking were these Lucky’s fabulous little chocolate-covered cakes presented by the lovely Rosa from Espana. They are handmade in a little kitchen a few blocks away. Killer. I sampled a bunch then bought three.

Next to be found were some fabulous felted animals that were stuffed with wool and lavender, and sand bags. Loved the chickens, but they were a bit heavy for the suitcase.

There are some great stores, sorry “Shoppes”, around the outside of the market with some great finds including:

Fridge magnet battle bugs

and a London underground map shower curtain which I thought was funny as I have yet to see a shower with a curtain here in the UK as everyone seems to prefer to use these moveable glass walls that slide and swing as necessary from the edge of the bath to keep the water in.

We had a reviving cuppa and then left for the other side of town, and the other end of the spectrum, Harrods, with a stop at the Victoria and Albert Museum for lunch which, I might add, was fabulous.

 

Zoe and the world’s largest meringue. She loves these things. they make my teeth hurt just to think about them. And yes, she is wearing a raincoat as it was bloody miserable here all morning.

Thankfully after we finished lunch, the sun came out

Love this Courtyard at the V & A museum.

Not so crazy about this ‘fixture’ hanging in the entrance to the museum. It looks a bit like something Dr Seuss might come up with after a bad acid trip. Anyway. I am clearly not the curator at this museum and so what do I know about decorative arts.

Next was a walk down the road to Harrods

 

where I did not purchase this tea (which you are advised to drink without milk – whatever. If I’m paying 5000 pounds a kilo, I’ll put whatever I bloody well like in it thank you very much).

nor this horse

 

but I did buy these

Then it was back on the bus to the ‘hood where we had another delicious dinner in Brick Lane this time at Jungle Braii, which calls itself an African BBQ joint. Hmmm. Whatever. It was delicious.

The kids and I decided a walk was in order before retiring for the night so we went for a stroll down Whitechapel High Street where, to our delight, we discovered that while KFC itself is notably absent, there were many knockoffs:

 

Kinda Like Finger Licking Good but not quite….

Halal Fried Chicken!

 

Stands for Perfect Fried Chicken.

LFC for short…

Kinda like Kentucky Fried Chicken…but not.

 

And we are in London, so everything has to be Royal…

We have had a great time staying in the East End and I highly recommend it. There is a vibrancy and diversity here that isn’t always as visible in other more touristy areas of London.

Tomorrow we leave London for Wales. I feel like I need about another 10 days to get all the things done that I wanted to see but as my friend Lila says, she has lived here for 14 years and still hasn’t seen everything. So I guess I will have to come back.  Maybe the weather will be better next time…

Thanks for reading-

Cheers,

Jane