Cliveden and the Lostness of Mr Him
Dear reader, more excitement ensued this last weekend. Mr Him and I escaped the household and went for a trip an hour and a half up the road to Marlow to meet friends for the weekend. Marlow is halfway between our two towns. We met at Cliveden. Mr Him and I argued about the pronunciation. I said Cliv-er-den. He said Clive-den. We were both wrong, which is a relief otherwise the weekend could have been ruined. Cliv-den is the way it's pronounced.
Summer ended much like it began, with a walk around floral gardens. I refer you to my Hampton Court blog here. This time the gardens were a bouquet of begonias.
Cliveden is a National Trust property. Gardens and woodland are open for walks. The house is an upmarket hotel. We were lucky enough to see this old Mercedes sweep in and stop for a photo opportunity by the fountain. The owners were kind enough to let us capture the moment.
The river Thames runs along the bottom of the grounds. Yes, the Thames is also a rural river. These water particles don't know what's about to hit them as they reach the great metropolis.
We had afternoon cream tea (diet be damned ) in the Orangery. That's a tea room in a greenhouse.
Our friends pointed us in the direction of the field we parked in. Through woodland, across a valley and keep going. Not that they were trying to get rid of us, of course. Perhaps they knew Mr Him's penchant for taking me on unexpected walks. Suffice to see we saw the Thames once again, we trod in woodland previously untrod by Mr Him, we viewed landscape previously unviewed by Mr Him,
we climbed hills previously unclimbed by Mr Him. I heard words uttered previously unuttered by Mr Him. I saw a demeanour previously undemeanoured by Mr Him. By the time we reached our car our friends were in the bar buying the first round at our hotel. That was when I saw spittle and foam from Mr Him previously unspittled and unfoamed.
Later, much later, we arrived at the bar to join our friends for a drink.
We chatted together on all things (long walks) (unexpected walks ) (hill walking ) (unexpected hill walking) (friendship ) (the longevity of friendship) (the curtailment of friendship.)
Once topics were exhausted we went out for a curry . Mr Him had booked the table weeks ago. It was still for four people as he couldn't get a signal in the woodlands!
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