Most
people would probably say that our move from Cornwall to Bower Hinton in
Somerset was the most significant event of recent weeks but I persist in being
perverse and thinking that my not particularly significant birthday took pride
of place. The highlight was dinner at Joes Stone Crab in Miami and being
serenaded by three waiters who looked as if they would extract stens from their
violin cases and finish off their rendition in a blaze of terminal gun-fire.
Alas it was no more than a candle in a slab of their signature Lime Key pie and
a hand-held video on Leonel's cell-phone. A fine culmination to a good day and
the crab claws were delicious. I do like Joe's which is paradoxically far more
effectively old-fashioned and traditional than anything we have in the UK. To
which I have been anyway.
Emma
dropped us off in a state of the art urban car park in Miami beach which has
won prizes but gave me the creeps and we wandered down the Lincoln Mall, had
lunch (more singing waiters) at a posh Italian where we began with a glass of
Alfred Gratien to begin a delicious meal. Saw the King's Speech for which all
should have Oscars. Incidentally there are obvious historical inaccuracies but
the essentials are correct and, while C Hitchens is basically right about Churchill,
he is wrong about the King and Queen and Hitler. Part of their dislike was
based on Bowes-Lyon snobbery. It was like Mannheim, the Finnish boss, who said
sniffily as Hitler ran towards him "Only other ranks run." The point as far as
the K and Q were concerned is that he was a common other rank even if he did
make the trains run on time and spoke fluently. Besides, he was a foreigner and
declared war on Britain which was very bad indeed. On such simplicities are
great events founded, alas. But then Hitchens didn't read Modern History even
though he was at Balliol!
So
I had my birthday in Florida where it was warm enough to sit out and we really
ought to be home shivering amid the cardboard boxes. Actually though it was a
month late the move went pretty well. The delay was one of those tiresome
things and it was probably a touch optimistic to expect the new beds to arrive
when they were supposed to. Or for the man from Sky to do what he said he had
done. Or for me to have uninterrupted wi-fi. Essentially it was OK, thanks in
part to terrific movers (removalists in Ozspeak) from Newquay. They struggled
up and down the footpath in Fowey in a howling gale. Admitted that they never
wanted to see another book (4,500 at their estimate). Packed anything that lay
in their path including things we meant to throw out but were generally
wonderful. If you intend moving just let us know.
The
other huge plus was the White Hart in downtown Martock. This was the local pub
where we were forced to bed down on account of the non-arrival of the sleeping
stuff. The pub had been an almost next door favourite of my grandfather many
years ago and was now obviously very different but they were incredibly
welcoming and we felt instantly at home.
Gradually
we started getting to know our new surroundings, aided, of course, by the fact
that so many of my family are crowded into the church-yard - my father on one
side; my aunt and uncle, Betty and Basil, and their son, my cousin David on the
other; with sundry Vaughans including grandparents and great grandparents in
the middle. Naturally I paid visits on both Sundays to the glorious church of
All Saints, second largest in all Somerset and for years the place where my
mother's family all worshipped. In a very real sense I felt as if I was coming
home.
This
was assisted, naturally, by our quick two-hour trip from the car park in
Wincanton to Hammersmith bus station. One of the benefits of my talk to the
annual dinner of the Belgian Cambridge Society was the chance to try the London
trip. This was by Berry's bus. When I was at Connaught House school. Bishop's
Lydeard, many years ago Berry's used to take us to swimming in Taunton, up to
the Quantocks and to away matches against St. Dunstan's and Perrot Hill in
their buses of which there were two. Old Mr. Berry drove the elder bus which
could barely make it up Cothelstone Hill; young Mr. Berry who had
Brylcreem-black hair drove the new bus - a mighty, throbbing behemoth, which
did Cothelstone Hill with ease.Now old Mr. Berry is long gone and young Mr.
Berry has become old Mr. Berry and the company has masses of buses which speed
up and down the A303 to and from London
bearing OAPs who pay astoundingly little for the privilege.
A
quick digression on the marvels of modern science. I couldn't find the "Write
Entry" button in orange/red. I needed
this to post my latest blog entry (this!) on-line. I asked Matt in far-off
Fowey what to do and he said could he come on line and fix it. This he did in a
matter of moments even though he is many thousands of miles away Magic! Like brain surgery, only by remote control
and computer.
So
we have moved to Bower Hinton and the best of many pluses is that it takes
under an hour for me to reach my Mama and between the 12th when we
moved and the 25th when we flew to Florida I saw her three times. Each
visit was an hour or so whereas in the past I was going for two or three days
about once a month. More visits less time seems the prerequisite. And preferable
all round.
On
the work front I am beavering away on my Queen book and sending regular
missives to London. Hope and believe it's OK. Have made corrections and
additions to "Death in the Opening Chapter" which is scheduled for March 31st.
Apparently that's the same day as Methuen are now going to publish my account
of Douglas Jardine's tour in India. Hope so, not least because I have arranged
the first of what I hope will be many talks about it some time in April. In
September Severn House say they will be publishing "Poison at the Pueblo"
though I must make revisions and additions before the end of March. Murray
should do my Queen in the autumn and Frances Lincoln my Richard Cobb letters.
Which makes five books. Plus my work for "The Lady" with a Royal Wedding and
the Duke's 90th both looming. And Sue at the Tablet has just emailed
about a review. In addition I have arranged talks in St. Ives, Fowey,
Bournemouth; I am keen to see cricket in Taunton in July maybe with family and
I have booked for the Indians at Lord's.
All
in all, especially bearing in mind the last birthday, I am now an old man in a
hurry. Brrmm, brrmmm. Scribble, scribble, drone, drone, Stirling Moss eat your
heart out!
