So much for my waistline – on Sunday, during an overnight trip to Winchester (absolutely beautiful and not just for its Cathedral), I managed bangers & mash for lunch in a gorgeous renovated pub, then a prawn curry a few hours’ later at the home of my friend Amanda’s parents. Cor blimey guv’nor, was I glad that I slept alone that evening…
The locals always look slightly quizzically at me when I recall my recent meanderings – NY, London, Pisa, Bologna, Siena, Pisa, London, Bilbao, London – but to an Australian these distances are literally of no consequence. We have to travel such an enormously long way to get anywhere that is not still in Australia, so a couple of hours to reach a new country is endlessly impressive. Winchester, of course, is not a new country, but it’s a part of the old country I had never seen before and suddenly had the opportunity to experience by a personal tour. For the first time this month it rained heavily, and I had only some sandals or well-worn ballet flats to choose from. The ballet flats turned out to be so well worn as to have holes in them.
