Thursday, July 27, 2006

The West Country- Part I


Somerset 23-07-06, view from Cheddar Gorge. Click Image for more

Last Friday Tim and I hired a car and drove off to Bristol and the West Country for the weekend.

Scorched Earth

We picked the car up in Neasden (of all places!)The North Circular was blazing as we left London to the sounds of Lisa Lashes and Madonna. The term scorched earth kept popping in my head as we passed parched, yellowed grass, and even some trees seemed to be drying up in the heat. It was shocking.

It was after 7pm when we finally got on the M4 (the road that leads from London all the way to South Wales) but the Sun was in front us still strong and high in the sky. The mellow English Country side seemed drenched in a gold haze, it was cinematic.

As we drove on it became greener and there were more hills.

Bristol

We arrived in Bristol as dusk was setting just after 9pm. We drove around for a little while just checking the place out. There were some gorgeous houses left over from the riches of the slave trade. Still, there was a chilled out buzz to Bristol.

We arrived at Rich and Helen's home rather late (as I learned throughout the weekend, Tim is great at missing exits, turns, junctions....) They were very welcoming and dutiful hosts.

Their first floor flat was our home for the weekend. They had a little garden, and a futon for us to sleep in their lounge. Helen had prepared a risotto for us. Tim and brought 3 bottles of wine.

After dinner we went down to the pub to meet another of Tim's childhood friends Aidi, his brother and his boyfriend. Despite the warm evening the bar staff refused to let is open the plentiful windows that faced the street. It was very hot and stuffy so we only stayed for a little while.

We couldn't seem to find anywhere open after midnight so we decided to head back to Rich and Helen's flat for a night cap. Tim, Helen and I needed the toilet badly so we went ahead while the others went in search of booze.

Helen and Rich had only moved to Bristol from Bath 3 months earlier and only knew one way up the hill to their house (the West Country is basically hills.) For some reason known only to him, Tim decided that he knew a short-cut. I protested, but Helen-blinded by her bursting bladder no doubt- followed him.

We ended up wandering in a general upwards bit zig-zagging direction through what I think is known as Clifton. Eventually we just found a little alley way....and then continued our search for Helen and Rich's house.

We found some teenagers sitting on the kerb to direct us and after some more meandering (and a few giggles) we made it back. We sat in the garden with our wine, and the others arrived with beer.

Aidi, Rich and Tim reminisced about their childhood in Stroud, which was pretty crazy and involved the words "bongs" "wasted" "smashing" and "windows" quite a bit.
The neighbours got annoyed at us for being loud. Ok, annoyed with Tim, so we went inside where it all degenerated. All the wine was drunk and much of the beer.

The weed came out and it all goes a bit fuzzy in my head. I remember we laughed at Tim alot. He went off on one of his drunken rants which involved the words "spastic" "cunts" and "kill" quite a bit.

Around 3am I crashed out and went to bed. I don't think it was too much longer before Tim and Aidi came crashing into the room. Literally, there wa a loud smashing sound but we were never able to establish was broken. Tim plopped down next to me and refused to brush his teeth despite my request.

Aidi passed out on a sleeping back near our feet. And promptly began snoring. I don't know how someone who was popping caffeine pills all night could sleep so soundly.

I tried to sleep but between Aidi's snoring and Tim's tossing and turning I couldn't. I paced, I tried to think, and I tried to sleep. That failed so I went to the kitchen and tidied about all the glasses, plates, roll-up materials, cans and bottles. Eventually, I slept, but poorly.

Stroud

In the morning I felt near death. Rich and Helen were up when I went to the kitchen about 10. Rich had been due at work an hour earlier. Aidi came in and stated he'd slept like a baby. Good for him.

The rest of us felt and looked pretty wrecked as we sat around the garden table with our coffees and wondering where it all went wrong the night before. It was supposed to be the chilled out night.

Tim and I didn't have too much time to think. We were due to meet his Mum over in Stroud in te hospital car park. The very hospital where he was born...(all together now: AWwwww)

Stroud is in Gloucestershire, and only abou a 35 minute drive from Bristol. The way Tim described his childhood, I always imagined it would be a dive. One of those depressing, concrete British towns that was full of chavs.

It had been sunny in Bristol. The closer we got to Stroud the more overcast it became. Still, the landscape was beautiful.

In a nutshell. This was not chav country. Tim grew up in one of the loveliest places IÂ?ve ever seen. The kind of picturesque, green hilly area that makes American Tourists cream themselves with the overuse of the word Quaint, and the Japanese ones to use up all the memory in their digital cameras.

Stroud is actually in the Cotswolts. Sleepy towns with those stone houses and stone walls everywhere, and adorable country pubs hidden amongst green lushness in winding country roads.

Stroud is also very steep! The roads made me nervous. They had been there since before the time of cars and they were very narrow. With cars parked on either side, it was difficult to navigate with two way traffic.

Tim's mum was already waiting for us when we arrived in the car park. She introduced herself as Lindsay. She was a lovely, polite woman...maybe he's adopted I don't know.

We walked into the town centre in search for lunch. We passed through some very pretty streets and suddenly a torrential downpour descended on us.

We tried to hide under an archway before running into the high street and going into some tea rooms or a time-warp. I'm not sure which. The restaurant was upstairs, it could have been someone's living room. The tea rooms looked like a throw-back to the 50s. Dark carpets,wallpaper, dark wooden tables with people eating fry-ups, scampy and peas, and the staff acting very casually and taking their bloody precious time.

Despite the rain it was agnosingly hot in the restaurant. It brought out my hang-over and sleep deprivation. Tim's mum kept the conversation flowing (I see now where his talent for waffling on comes from) and didn't seem to notice that we were flagging badly.

After waiting for a long time our food arrived and it wasn't really all that. After lunch the rain had let up so we wandered in the town centre briefly before walking back to the hospital and driving up Rodborough Fort

The fort is on top of a hill and is a common. We climbed the last few metres and then onto the windswept commons. The low cloud have it an eerie but beautiful atmosphere. It made me think if Wuthering Heights, not in looks but the haunting feel and ancient beauty.

Despite this, it was relatively warm and the view was gorgeous and miniture. We walked around, spotted some big fat cows with short, stubby legs. Tim also talked his Mum from buying a rubbish bungalow in Cheltham. After an hour or so of wandering the common it grew cold and began to rain so we went back to our cars.

We said good-bye to Lindsay and went on our way back to Bristol. Or that was the plan...but oh the pies....

(tbc)

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