An English (Wintery) Adventure, Part 2 – guest post by B_Twin

 

Hampshire and Beyond

Of course, despite my obsession with castles and historical buildings, the main reason for my visit was to catch up with friends. This meant that one evening there was a Meeting of the Mods and Hellgoddess. I’m actually surprised the sudden spike in Associated Energy didn’t throw us into next week.

As Robin has mentioned previously this meeting involved Southdowner, AJLR, myself and Robin. It was a very pleasant meal. I do recall champagne and brownies. (And the paintwork in AJLR’s hotel room was…. more suited to a vampire movie set. ;) )   As I had expressed a desire to go and see the (famous) monks I was ferried* down to the abbey. With a spare blanket. Just in case my thinned blood couldn’t cope.**

Let me just put in here that Robin is not exaggerating when it comes to describing how cold the abbey is. I could barely see the hymn sheet for the foggy breath I was exhaling. And I needed that blanket.*** It was the blanket though that ultimately got me into trouble. The service books are rather large and unwieldy and with one hand frozen in place clutching the blanket I had decided that the seats in front were level enough to rest the book on.

You know that little (dry) voice inside that likes to encourage you to change course? Hmmm. “But what if the book slides off the chair in front?” “Don’t be silly – I’ll catch it.”

Oh sure. Catch it. With one hand buried in a blanket.

And when the book, inevitably, slipped off towards me I reached out with my other hand* and I did catch it. Sort of. It would have been fine if the seats in front had been solid pews. And not individual solid wood chairs.

On a stone floor.

In a room designed to have acoustics good enough to hear a pin drop.

Have I mentioned that this happened in the middle of prayers?? ****

So as the heavy wooden chair in front shot forward over the stone floor, nearly tipping over in the process as it crashed into its neighbours, with a sound akin to a cannon firing** I was kind of wishing the wretched stone floor would open up and swallow me^.

Then I dropped the blanket.

I have been told that my membership in the Hellgoddess’s Klutz Club is now assured for decades to come.  *le sigh*

The trip to Hampshire was depressingly short-lived before I was whisked away to a seaside resort in a different part of England. (I don’t think it was because the rulers of Hampshire were concerned about the structural integrity of their county with my continued presence.)  And into the most inclement weather of my trip. Let’s just say that I am currently very impressed by the fortitude that must have been had by the soldiers atop Dover Castle in all weathers. The gale was so strong up there it was difficult standing upright. (Great castle though. :D )

Dover Castle on a wintery day

A wonderful trip – too short, as always – and plenty to look forward to on the next one. More bellringing^^ and even more photos. but probably in a summertime. ;)

 

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* which would have had icicles on it except for the fact I was wearing wool wristwarmers and fingerless gloves.

** very similar to a large, heavy oak door slamming shut on a large echoing room. Which may have happened on my way out. I don’t know if I will get a return invitation…#

# monks need a good laugh occasionally too you know.  I’m sure they’ll be begging to know when you’re coming back.

^ the self-control shown by the Hellgoddess at this point in not laughing at my misfortune shows how worthy she is of devotion.#

# awwwwwwww.~

~ please inform the hellpack.

^^ definitely need more. Especially after I’ve now experienced the amazing Dover Ringing Centre. (I managed 3 towers in 3 days which is pretty good considering I barely had any ringing this last year.)

* ha ha frelling ha.  Did I tell you about the lake?  You don’t know from ferried.  A fortnight ago you would have been ferried.#  –ed

# Aaaaaaaaand it’s back.  –ed ed

**  ‘thinned blood’ my blue freezing feet.  I am familiarly known by the monks as blanket woman.  And I live here.  And I’m from Maine.  Where we have central heating.  What I want to know is if novice monks being interviewed for suitability to the monkish way of life are asked if they’re good at being cold. 

*** yes.  I kind of thought you were humouring me when I gave you the blanket back at the cottage and told you to bring it along.

**** hee hee hee hee.  It was as good as a play.  Sort of a thriller where things jump out at you suddenly.