Stoupa Reunion, 27 June

The Swan Whisperer had been going to go for a run this morning, but it poured, so he didn't. We had arranged  to hire a car, so he went and got it and we were away by 09:45.  We were headed to Sparta. The Sat-nav said it was far quicker to go up the motorway and dien the other side, but the cross - country road said no tolls, and we didn't fancy motorway tolls so went on this horrible, horrible road with hairpin bends everywhere, worse than the road between Die and the Vercors, worse even than that road in the Dolomites!

The Sat-nav took us to the wrong entrance to ancient Sparta and  by the time we got there it s raining again and lunch time and the SW, who had a quick look, said he really thought one would learn more from Wikipedia.  So we came away and found a cafė where we had a delicious lunch and then came home not over the mountains - I slept most of the way.

In the evening it was the first of the two official reunions, at our friend's house. It had stopped raining by then and we had a very pleasant evening with food, drink, and Greek dancers who performed traditional dances from all over Greece. And lots of chat with friends....

Stoupa Reunion, 26 June

The weather forecast, which has been predicting rain and storms ever since we got here, finally got it right and it rained on and off most of the day. And I stupidly took an anti-histamine this morning - I bought the Boots ones didn't affect me but I was obviously wrong - and ended up sleeping most of the afternoon. So rather a nothing day.

ETA It would, of course, have helped if I hadn't accidentally bought Loritidine tablets from Boots - I know Loritidine knock me out.... thought they were the other kind.

Stoupa Reunion, 25 June

I slept incredibly badly!  I was too hot, it was either too dark (with the bathroom light off) or too bright (with it on). And I can't tell you how loudly the Swan Whisperer snored! I have moved back into the main room where one can keep the porch light on but there are curtains, and I can close the door between me and him.

I suppose I finally got to sleep as it was getting light, and had a severe headache when I woke. I knew I needed a quiet day, so after breakfast I slept for a bit and then took myself for a luxurious potter round the supermarket. Forgot to buy cheese, but got the makings of ratatouille and dinner ham and salami, etc, which we had for lunch.

Then after another siesta, we went down to the beach and had a dip in the sea, and an ice cream, and then walked slowly back a different way. And soon it was wine o'clock, And we drank a whole bottle with our dinner - I think (and hope)  I shall sleep well tonight!

Stoupa Reunion, 24 June

This holiday is a little different from our normal one, as we are in Stoupa, Greece, for a reunion of some members of the class of 1970 and their spouses, if applicable.

We were up at a disgraceful hour this morning, and took an Uber to Clapham Junction and then a train to Gatwick. We met up with a few people who were on the same flight, but didn't sit with them. The flight to Kalamata was an hour late, but we took off in the end and it was very smooth and uneventful, just a bit bumpy coming down through clouds.

Then a long coach trip across the mountains, during which the holiday rep would not stop talking! And then to our very nice apartment in Stoupa..

After unpacking we walked to the supermarket - only a few minutes away - and then down to the beach and along a bit to where we were meeting the others for a drink and a meal, which was very good. - I think the beer hissed going down - while  we caught up on tales of the Dear Old School and so on. And then a walk back with a friend who has taken an apartment next door, and a night which, although it isn't late by UK time, is definitely late enough for me!

The Rounders Match

There wasn't intended to be a rounders match.  We were just taking the motorhome for its annual MOT and service, but then the parents and sister were all going to watch my youngest niece play in a rounders tournament and suggested we go, too.  We agreed, with the caveat that if the garage phoned to say the motor home was ready, we would head off.  As it turned out, they didn't ring until much later in the day.

My brother had said that the afternoon's matches were due to start at 1:30, and it was not much past that when the cavalcade arrived, the wheelchair rolled down the slope, and we joined my brother and his wife and the other assorted parents to watch the match.

The school is in a wonderful setting, nestled into the Downs, very beautiful and probably totally lost on the children! This was the finals of some kind of tournament, and the school had already lost one match that morning, so were in the playoff for the Bronze medal.

When we arrived, the match was just starting, and the visiting school was batting.  My brother was explaining the rules to my parents, and exactly why the girl in question had or had not run.  It is well over half a century since I last played rounders, and I was glad to be reminded of the rules.  I'm always impressed how anybody manages to hit that very hard ball with such a narrow bat (for American readers, about the same size and weight as a baseball ball and bat); I never could. 

Visiting school was finally out for 4 1/2 rounders, and then Our School went into bat.  The niece didn't particularly cover herself with glory, but played competently enough.  The last girl left in, though, managed to score three rounders single-handed, to massive cheers from her cohorts and the assembled parents, and the half-time score was 9-4.5. 

After a break for drinks and reapplying of suncream (both unheard of during matches when I was a girl - you got a segment of orange to suck if you were lucky, as it was thought that if you drank during exertion you would feel sick, and the importance of proper hydration hadn't yet been realised; as for sunscreen, I don't think it had even been invented!), it was time for the second innings.  All was going well when, just at the end, disaster struck - there was a serious collision which resulted in a girl on our side's being hit very hard on the back of her head with a bat.  The poor child who had done it trotted over to apologise profusely - it had been a total accident, everybody agreed on that - but the child was out of the match, and the substitute had already been substituted once as she had a strained and obviously painful leg.  The team was badly shaken by this, and although they vowed to go and win it "for her", they couldn't get past it, and, sadly, it was all over very quickly with only 2 or 3 of the 8 rounders they had needed to win being scored.  Great was the disappointment, and a fair few tears were shed - adrenaline crash, mostly, I suspect.  I know the feeling all too well.

But, despite the disappointing result, it was an enjoyable way to spend a warm summer afternoon.

Photo: Maggie Wright

Living History weekend at the Weald and Downland Museum

We hadn't been to the Weald and Downland Museum for years, and as this weekend was the Living History weekend, we decided to visit it on our way back from dropping the motor home in Sussex.  We were rather later than we meant to be, but arrived there about 13:30.  The first annoyance was that we were parked miles and miles from the entrance, but there was a buggy that kindly gave us a lift to it, so we didn't have to walk for miles before we got there.  Then we realised that, as it had been cool and cloudy when we left London, we didn't have sun-hats with us and only had a tiny bit of sun cream.  And it was hot and sunny, and hats would have been rather a necessity.  Sadly, the only ones on sale were either incredibly expensive or for children, so we had to do without.

We bought ourselves a venison burger for lunch (judging by the state of my insides this evening, this may have been a mistake), and then wandered off to see what we could see.  It was basically Re-enactor Heaven, including jousting, demonstrations of weapons from the Mediaeval period, and a great many crafts people, some of whom were better at talking about their work than others.  There was a fascinating man who made nets - I am not sure what period he was supposed to be, and didn't quite like to ask - and another woman who demonstrated 15th century food.

We ended up watching "Sir John Paston" have his dinner - ridiculously over-formal for Paston, who was, after all, only a jumped-up merchant.  Plus the squires were far too old - they would have been boys and young men not quite old enough to be knights.  But it gave a good impression of what it might have been like, although I think the women did eat with the men, at least at the high table, and there would have been lower tables where his people would have eaten.

Once that was over, it was almost the end of the afternoon, so we treated ourselves to an ice-cream and then the Swan Whisperer went to get the car, and we drove back to London via the A285 and A3, enjoying the sight of cricket matches on the village greens we passed - proper white flannels, not the pyjamas that international cricketers seem to wear these days!

Beer and Castles Tour, The End

And so we awoke, once again, in the car park at the Cité Europe.  As soon as we'd had breakfast, I rushed into Carrefour for some last-minute shopping, and while I was there went to get a second token for the trolley - they turned out to be free!  Imagine that, Tesco's!  And so while I was there I asked about the loyalty card you need to use the Scan 'n' Shop facility there, and the extremely nice woman set me up for it then and there, so I was able to use it for my shopping!  Of course, it was checked (mine always is, largely because our local Tesco doesn't have the facility so I don't use it very often).

Anyway, once that was done, we finished packing up and went to the check-in at the terminal, rather hoping for an earlier crossing, but we have never seen so many motor homes waiting to cross, so no chance of that.  There were 4 crossings that hour, though, so we didn't have to wait - they said our crossing had been "rescheduled" by 15 minutes, but in fact it did actually set off on time.

And then a long, slow drive up the M20 and across London, until we finally got home.  And then the endless hard work in unpacking the van and putting things away, but it got done at last.  And look - after five years, we nearly have a garden again: