We took the train to Tring, in Herfordshire, where some of the Gentleman Friend’s relatives have moved to a toll house on the Grand Union Canal. It’s a very picturesque house, quite large, with a little toll room and some pretty outbuildings and a large pond where the previous owner kept some rather grotesque carp. The canal, with houseboats, flows along on side and on the other is what passes for rivers in this country. Inside the house is less lovely, with rather small and boxy rooms, and of course I immediately started planning how to open it up, tearing down walls etc, in a way that is probably completely prohibited because the house is listed.
Before going to the house we met them at a (quite poor) pub for lunch and then walked back through the woods. So I did get a countryside walk, and it was very pretty, though also quite muddy. I had to, unwillingly, admit that autumn colours are beautiful here in the UK as well. Not as vivid as in North America, perhaps, but deeper jewel shades. The walk was past some barrows which I was very pleased by.
In the house, the children treated us to a musical performance in honour of Armistice Day. It was distinguished primarily by enthusiasm, but was mercifully short. And they are very sweet.
We returned exhausted and watched an episode of Fleabag, which is extremely funny and sharp. A real pleasure, particularly after the flatness of His Dark Materials.