A prodigious adventure

Tuesday, February 13th., Cadogan Square, London.

How one changes over time! I was browsing in my old journals and found that 25 years ago I had taken it into my head to live 'in the country'. Specifically at Trinity Hall Farm in Bedfordshire. In fairness it was partly to do with my father's ill health and the need to find somewhere quiet and suitable for him to be looked after. But I had some romantic notion about 'the country' and seized it by the throat. Of course I soon discovered that there is no such thing as 'the country', which is an entity only existing in the brains of an urban population. Still, I was pleased with myself.

I well remember my first day. I, who had never owned an orchard before, stood in my orchard. Behind me were phalanx of fruit trees - my fruit trees. Also a double-greenhouse, and a meadow upon which I discerned the possibility of football or cricket. And visible through a high hedge a very white highway; not just any highway, but Watling Street. I have to admit now, though I would have resisted the admission then, that the idea of living actually on Watling Street, a real Roman road, was a powerful factor in my choice of abode. Who says there is no romance in my soul? Only persons of imagination can enter into my feelings at that moment.

Keep in mind that all this happened before the advent of the nature-book, and the sublime invention of weekending. The motor car was a thing oftener heard of than seen. London seemed not just over the horizon (at the end of Watling Street) but on another continent. I plunged into this unknown, inscrutable and recondite 'country' as I might have plunged fully clothed and unable to swim into the sea. It was a prodigious adventure!"

I called to see friends before the day of exodus. They favoured me with knowing looks. "Goodbye," I said. "Au revoir" they replied with calm vaticinatory assurance "we shall see you back again in a year." They were right of course.

      

Away from home

Friday, October 19th., Trinity Hall Farm, Hockliffe, Beds.

Wallpaper is a problem at present! I am experiencing difficulty in ensuring that the terms of an agreement I made with Adams to obtain particular wallpapers from Essex & Co., London, at an agreed price, are adhered to. But I am nothing if not determined, and it will be done.

In the meantime, because only two or three rooms can presently be lived in with dignity, I have taken a holiday in North Wales and returned yesterday.

Predominant colours, grey and green. Grey of the stone, especially the ubiquitous slate, and green of the vegetation which thrives in the damp climate. In fact there was not much actual rain, and the rivers, streams and lakes were rather less full than is usually the case in my experience. Much fungus, especially in the woods around the Conwy valley. Some spectacular toadstools, bright red with yellow veins, larger than a tennis ball, like a child's drawing of a toadstool. And colonies of smaller, dark, sinister looking fungi on the forest floor, or infesting damp, dead trees.

Conwy and Caernarfon both dominated by their castles. I prefer Conwy of the two. Circuit of walls largely intact. Like looking down on a model town. Grey streets. Spectacular views out towards the Great Orme. Much Welsh spoken in the north west Wales area, including Anglesey. Most people seem able to move easily from Welsh to English and vice versa. A sort of sense now and then that the staff and some customers in cafes deliberately move into Welsh when English people are present. Given the treatment of the Welsh by the English over the centuries I can hardly feel surprised by some lingering hostility.

Telford's suspension bridge over the Menai Straits is a triumph of engineering in the landscape. Not so the nearby railway bridge, which is functional but not beautiful. And of course the A5, Watling Street, connects this place to Holyhead as directly as could reasonably be imagined by a visionary engineer.





Additionally for October 19th., see 'Americans' -
http://earnoldbennett.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/americans.html

Lunch at Harper's, with chief members of staff including Major Lee, under presidency of Colonel George Harvey. I liked Harvey. Quiet, ruminative, accustomed to power and so on. Good laugh. Good story.