Playing Monopoly in London

Whilst heading towards daughter Paige’s 18th century pub the other day I made the comment “I wonder where the Vicar of Dibley was made’? Typical of this country, a quick Google search reveals it is only a 20 minute drive from where we are heading. A no brainer. It’s not the first time something like this has happened and it really is what makes England so great. On any day, anywhere, you are probably only minutes away from some historical (famous) building, monument or location or some world-famous event.

For example – want historical – oh we have Stonehenge, Hadrian’s Wall, the Roman Baths, Henry the 8th, Shakespeare’s birthplace, Glastonbury, castles and battlefields galore. And famous – how about Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Tower of London, the Harry Potter sights, cities like London, Liverpool and Leeds and lets not forget that retail therapy capital of the world Harrods – the list is endless. To stress the point further – this week alone (if we could have afforded the exorbitant ticket prices) we had the options of Wimbledon, the F1 Grand Prix, England verse South Africa in a test match or U2 and these are only what I know about! There really is something for everyone anywhere, anytime.

As a family we all love the Vicar of Dibely – it is one of those shows that appeals to both generations. Visiting Turville, location of the Vicar of Dibley was an unexpected treat for the four of us. After squeezing our car through long narrow hedges (hold your breath) we arrive at Dibley (sorry Turville). It is very small and very unassuming. Associated fame (read tourism dollars) obviously not wanted nor required here thank you. Imagine a tiny village green, flanked by stone, mossy tile, rose draped cottages and a Tudor pub. High on the hill above a windmill oversees everything and a 12th century stone church surrounded by scarred and weathered gravestones is your point of focus. This is Turville. We didn’t find Geraldine but we had a great time looking.

Last week we played Monopoly. Not as one assumes – sitting around a table throwing some dice but rather traipsing from Piccadilly Circus and Regent Street to Trafalgar Square via Northumberland and the Strand. And while they are not on the board we also landed on Buckingham Palace, Westminster and South-bank. Fleet street cropped up where we had a beer in a small, dark, dingy room two floors below ground level at Ye Old Cheshire Cheese – reputedly the oldest pub in London (and former work place of son Pierce). To our chagrin we found absolutely no free parking anywhere and probably spent $200 each time we passed go rather than collected it. And we absolutely loved it. London really is one of the best cities in the world (IMHO).

I have mentioned previously that the Thames is a short distance away from where we are living. It’s a beautiful grande ole dame of a river and its mesmerizing watching the long-boats putter their way upon her, the swans, ducks and geese living alongside her. So much so that last week we caught a converted steamer and four locks later ended up in Henley On Thames – famous for its annual regatta. A highlight of the trip was correctly identifying a Grand Designs (TV show for the uninitiated) build along her banks. Henley provided some beautiful traditional English architecture then later sausages, peas and mash washed down with a pint at a 300 year old pub.

Last Saturday our nearest local town – Caversham, put on a traditional English Fete. Complete with coconut shies, toffee apples, cream teas and Pimms tent it was an experience that we will not forget. It was positioned on the banks of the Thames, the weather was absolutely beautiful, the prizes were great and the Pimms was flowing freely. We really were in England.

Tonight we are going to sit outside – (I don’t think I have mentioned yet how bizarre we find the long days here. The sun appears to rise around 430 am and each night we go to bed (around 10-1030)and it’s still light) and have a few beers around the barbie. We do this not only as an ode to home but also because we are a bit afraid to use the absolutely spotless oven (my aunt is an amazing housekeeper) we are minding during our sojourn here.

Next blog – south-west England where we go looking for Doc Martin and maybe Basil Fawlty.

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