I arose to a vicious beating administered by my BFF. Okay, fine, it was just a hearty slap in the arm, but after 12 hours of fitful sleep on a lovely couch in my fancy sleeping bag, it felt a little like a beating. She brought me some Cadbury’s hot cocoa to make up the violence of my awakening.
After sitting around a little while, we cooked up some pasta and I tried random English things in the cupboard. Marmite and something called “pickle” were the two I can remember best. Neither were really any good, but would do in a pinch. The English are fond of bitter or sour tastes like vinegar, etc.
We chatted with the neighbor when he came over about maybe getting a ride to Bristol, but that didn’t work out so he gave us instructions in places to walk to, like the local village pub. Since it was raining pretty steadily, we decided to hang out a few more hours and see if it would stop. We got a little stir-crazy, listening to the types of CD’s that a best-selling British romance novelist would have. I have some video of our rainy interpretive dance to the flashdance song that I’ll be posting if we get permission to use the romance novelists computer, not just hack her wireless so I can use my phone to type these blogs.
After a few hours of reading romance novels and staring longingly out into the English countryside, the rain came sputtering to a stop. Freedom! We walked the “mile” to the center of the Compton Dando village and found the pub, the Compton Inn. We ate dinner, switching roles for the evening. BFF had chips with cheese and I had Eggs Benedict over bread with some sort of sauce over a nice bunch of salad greens with dressing. We listened to a few locals tell stories and then went up the road to try to find the next village. Walking on these roads is getting me all worked up for Rally Finland in two weeks. They are straight out of the British Rally Championship videos I’ve seen, barely room for a car and a person walking to pass each other. Luckily, no one drives around here. We even heard horses going by a couple times, but never saw them.
We walked maybe a mile down the road and never came to anything interesting, so we headed back by the farms and cottages. The sheep and orchards. It was pretty amazing. I took a few pictures that I’ll post on the Internet when I get a chance. I didn’t take any with my phone this time. All of those are on Flickr already.
To cap off our day of rest and relaxation and four miles of walking, we watched Atonement, another English film. It wasn’t very good, I’m afraid. BFF and both wanted the lady to go through more of a struggle. Like finding her way to the middle of nowhere, sleeping for 12 hours in a posh cottage, and then being lazy all day. Yeah.
Tomorrow we might go to Bristol or to the neighbor’s 70th birthday bash. We also get to meet the best-selling British romance novelist for the first time!
I think I’ll head to Paris on Monday and do some touristy things for a couple days. Then start heading towards my ferry ride from Rostock to Helsinki! Oops, I’m not supposed to plan. It’s hard work being spontaneous and accepting the unknown, but I’m trying.
Keywords: compton dando, europe, travel, village