Going down south

Oct 17 2010


Now, don’t get excited. I’m not talking about Memphis where we’re heading this morning (I’m writing this in the car) but Brighton on the south coast of England where an old school friend lives with her husband. Valerie and I re-connected via Friends Reunited 2 years ago. We hadn’t seen each other since we were 14 years old, Those who know me can work out how long ago that was!

First Class worked this time on the train from Newark to London. Enjoyed my free coffee and the decent loos. Just as well. Things were chaotic in London thanks to a strike by underground staff… so plan B; catch the 73 bus to Victoria wherefrom the train to Brighton leaves. Naturally it was crowded with people like me trying to figure out how to buy a ticket for said bus. In the end it didn’t matter, no one bothered to look.

So I saw a bit of London I did not expect to see since my London friends moved to Sheffield: Oxford Street, Piccadilly Circus, Marble Arch, even the gold helmets and bright red coats of the Horse guards trotting into Hyde Park.

Like Preston, another smart car was there to meet me, this time a snazzy red Volvo, lovely!

We went through Valerie’s old autograph books, remember them? I was surprised at my neat hand writing ta age 13 or so. One of my entries read, ‘Valerie now, Valerie for ever, Dennis now but not for ever.’ Dennis was her surname. (In the spirit of the times we gals were not expected to keep our maiden names for long.)

A series of coincidences, spooky moments, degrees of separation, call them what you will, happened on this visit. Valerie’s husband is currently concerning himself with local apples, the kind whose seeds need to be saved and cared for in order to keep propagating them. (Hope I got that right) Naturally I told him about our ancestor and her Bramley apple seeds, (See blog Sept 30 2010)

Next, a relative of Valerie’s parents recently died. Turns out she was the wife of my sister Maxine’s local doctor in Saxilby where she used to live. In fact said doctor was present when her second child was born. As to the third coincidence, read on…

Valerie and I took a trip to Lewes, a place I’ve never been. It has many steep narrow cobbled streets, a bit like Lincoln. Among many historical buildings it has a castle and the Fifteenth Century Bookstore.

 In there I found a very 20th century tale, namely ‘Last Train to Memphis,’ the story of Elvis Presley’s early life. How cool was that! Valerie very kindly made a present of it for me. It is detailed and perfect for my trip. Naturally I am reading it as we travel through America.

Back to Lewes: we sweet talked our way into the back garden of Anne of Cleves House, circa 1540. She was one of Henry the eighth's wives, lucky enough to escape with her life. Her house, which she never lived in, is a building site right now and we were supposed to wear hard hats. I took a few quick photos and retreated.

Anne of Cleves House

Back in Brighton, we walked around the Pavilion, George the fourth’s weekend retreat. Wondered if he started the trend of using Brighton for dirty weekends? In the sixties, Brighton was well known for it.

Brighton Pavilion

A lovely meal at a Tandoori restaurant finished off my stay very nicely thank you Valerie and Brian.

With Brian’s book about South East England in my luggage I boarded the train at Brighton, managing to catch one that took me all the way to St. Pancras (next door to Kings Cross) so did not have to negotiate the underground at all, nice one.

With a nod to Harry Potter on Platform 9 ¾ I found my first class seat for the journey north.

Platform 9 3/4

We streaked through the fields of North Hants to the accompaniment of loud business discussions. Over numerous cups of coffee three exec types sitting across from me talked as though they were the only people on the train. They were supermarket men, two Americans, ex Walmart one of them, and one Brit. The ex Walmart guy described their employees as Walmartians. I ask you, Walmartians! They were on the way to Leeds. Fortunately I got off before that.

That was the last of my train journeys in the UK, and I’m wondering if buying first class was worth it since many trains don’t have first class carriages, with trains from Lincoln a prime example. On balance it turned out alright but I have learned not to expect too much, and that travelling on a weekday out of rush hour is the best time. There are plenty of seats available without having to book.

I’m trying to think of some nice rounded ending but I’m too tired. We’ve reached Memphis and I’m full of southern fried chicken and my eyes are getting heavy……….