I’ve begun to realize that my time abroad is coming to an end although it’s been so long since I’ve had a class that just seems wrong. In other things that seem wrong, the days off the UK gives for just about anything, (although I’m not in any place to complain as my only work is studying).
Last weekend we had off Good Friday and Easter Monday. I understand Friday, but I’m convinced Easter Monday is just a made-up thing. This past weekend the nation was given off Friday for the Royal Wedding. That one is a stretch, but I understood after millions of people flocked into the city, basically shutting down massive areas of London. What I do not understand is getting off the following Monday to continue the celebrations. But it did mean that I got to spend another weekend as The Three Best Friends That Anyone Could Have. By which I mean myself, Matt and Mo. We went to Devon Friday afternoon to stay with Matt’s sister Bec, his brother Rob, and his favorite 4-legged family member Diesel.
After getting in, we quickly changed into dress-up clothes and went to some sort of charity/opening/royal party event, complete with harpists and several piece orchestras and heralds that gave us royal titles. I became Claire Princess of Pennsylvania; I’ll allow you all the opportunity to bow down to me later. We had a wonderful time and closed several lounges before making a late return to Bec’s.
We spent the next morning lying on the beach and recovering, and Momo and I swam in the ocean, regardless of the freezing water without wet suits like everyone else. Several people commented on our ‘braveness’ which I take is BritCode for stupidity, and assured of after Momo had turned gray.
After the beach everyone was ready to have a barbecue, only to realize that there was no grill. While this would have ended all of my hopes of eating except possibly microwaved porridge, the Smiths were genius enough to put together a grill by playing the game ‘grill made out of things in the shed’. As Momo pointed out, the Smith family and anyone connected to them are capable of making anything, only to point out that we were clearly the exception.
The next afternoon we went to the village Clovelly, which was on at least a 45 degree angle to the water’s edge. I tried my first real Cornish pasty, and have since developed a taste for potato, cheese and onion filled pastry. Afterwards, two of the Bec’s friends from Wolverhampton came with their one-year-old son, who seemed incapable of being unhappy. We went out for Cream Tea (which is actually tea and scones with cream), although for the second time in a week Momo and I committed a faux pas and drank coffee instead of tea at tea time. I learned to differentiate ‘going for tea’ and ‘having tea’… No, wait, no I didn’t. Only that one means dinner and the other means proper tea.
The next morning while Momo and I were making ourselves breakfast we heard the unmistakable sounds of a certain soundtrack coming from the living room only to find that Rob was kind enough to put on Stardust (obligatory mention), as we had talked about it non-stop since the mini-orchestra had played the theme, and we’d insisted on reenacting the gatekeeper scene at every stone wall. We then went back to the beach to teach Harry to like sand and picnics before packing up and heading back to London. Our way back was lousy with traffic, and what had been a three-hour ride down was nearly doubled on the way back. The pluses were our impromptu dance party on the side of the motorway and a slow-moving view of Stonehenge, which I can now cross off my list!
Location: Devon, Cornwall, Clovelly, Stonehenge
