A weekend in the country
Last weekend was a long time coming. A had had a week off work, and we'd originally planned to join our friends in Spain. But accommodation was proving difficult and my job interviews fell in the same week. So we decided to make the most of the weekend.
In the event, we couldn't have timed the holiday better. On Friday afternoon, scant minutes after the interview, I was told that I had the job. Finally, after a year of renewed short-term contracts, I can look forward to a few years of job security or should that be drudgery.
So we left for Haverfordwest in an upbeat mood. Ha'ffordwest is an hour and a half drive to the west of Llangennech through rural Welsh landscape--green fields with farm animals and hay ricks, gently rolling hills and the odd farmhouse. And peppered with names like Carmarthen, St Clear's, Tenby and Spittal, which was just minutes from our destination.
We were to meet our friends J&T for dinner at this new place they'd discovered. We reached their place at 7.30 pm, to find J in an apron (over other clothes, I must clarify) and T setting the table! The meal was delicious--melon and raspberry coulis for starters, chicken in cream sauce with mushrooms and veggies for main, followed by strawberry souffle. Then a walk down T's delightful provincial garden. T is a professional gardener. And we (who have trouble keeping potted plants alive) could only marvel at the pastoral beauty of the setting sun on the manicured hedge, the dogs gambolling on the well-maintained lawn and the walk by the wall of shrubs in full bloom--pinks, blues, greeny whites and yellow. Too soon it seemed it was time to head for the (hastily booked) hotel.
The room seemed promising--it was kinda huge, and I wondered how we'd got it so easily when everything else in the town was booked out. It wasn't long before I found the two reasons: A lumpy mattress, with springs sticking out everywhere and no hot water!
In the morning we strolled into the town centre along the banks of a river. Breakfasted on eggs-on-toast and tea at a small cafe. Browsed through a few local shops with names like The Moon and Sixpence and Ocky White and then headed for Scolton Manor. Scolton Manor is an old manor house with its interiors preserved as it was in the early 20th century. The library/study caught my imagination. The leather chairs, the pipes and tobacco instruments, an old desk with many drawers and pigeon-holes and old books lining the shelves. Then we toured the servants' rooms and climbed up the backstairs to look at the bedrooms and the nursery. The childrens' study room with its croquet, board games, rocking horses, and Girls Own Annuals hinted at a gentler time. Then another book shelf--this one filled with Jane Austen, Thomas Hardy, Dickens, et al, a glance at the sweeping suspended marble staircase and at the Barasingha (Deer found in Kashmir) head mounted on the wall and we were out in the late afternoon drizzle to watch the model air show being held in the Manor's grounds.
The model air show was a good example of the average British family's day out. More caravans and tents than people. A handful of stalls, 3-4 vans selling ice creams, burgers, tea and coffee and candyfloss and some 100 people standing by the wired fence listening to the ancient commentator dissect the salient features of the models and their makers.
After watching a yellow plane, a blue, white and red plane and a helicopter being put through their paces, we headed to the Go-Karting Centre where A and T raced each other down the indoor course and I read my copy of Elle. Dinner was a light chicken tikka baguette. Except that this chicken tikka had a pink mayonnaise dressing! Then we were off to our new, more comfortable quarters (with hot water) for the night.
Sunday's highlight was a trip to Picton Castle. The castle is a biggish Manor House, which at one time had a portcullis. I am biased, but the library, elegant, warm and with magnificent views, was just about the best room in the house. Saw a Renoir in the drawing room! Emerging from the surprisingly light and airy cellars we headed off to the walled garden full of shrubs in flowers and a fish pond. A disdained the overtly romantic surroundings and insisted we left. So barely 10 mins later, we headed off to the car park to experience A's version of romance and adventure by vaulting a barbed-wire fence and then drinking tea out of a thermos flask rather than at the nice little cafe in the castle.
And then it was time to go home. To pick up the newspapers from the corridor and iron clothes and watch TV and worry about the week ahead.
In the event, we couldn't have timed the holiday better. On Friday afternoon, scant minutes after the interview, I was told that I had the job. Finally, after a year of renewed short-term contracts, I can look forward to a few years of job security or should that be drudgery.
So we left for Haverfordwest in an upbeat mood. Ha'ffordwest is an hour and a half drive to the west of Llangennech through rural Welsh landscape--green fields with farm animals and hay ricks, gently rolling hills and the odd farmhouse. And peppered with names like Carmarthen, St Clear's, Tenby and Spittal, which was just minutes from our destination.
We were to meet our friends J&T for dinner at this new place they'd discovered. We reached their place at 7.30 pm, to find J in an apron (over other clothes, I must clarify) and T setting the table! The meal was delicious--melon and raspberry coulis for starters, chicken in cream sauce with mushrooms and veggies for main, followed by strawberry souffle. Then a walk down T's delightful provincial garden. T is a professional gardener. And we (who have trouble keeping potted plants alive) could only marvel at the pastoral beauty of the setting sun on the manicured hedge, the dogs gambolling on the well-maintained lawn and the walk by the wall of shrubs in full bloom--pinks, blues, greeny whites and yellow. Too soon it seemed it was time to head for the (hastily booked) hotel.
The room seemed promising--it was kinda huge, and I wondered how we'd got it so easily when everything else in the town was booked out. It wasn't long before I found the two reasons: A lumpy mattress, with springs sticking out everywhere and no hot water!
In the morning we strolled into the town centre along the banks of a river. Breakfasted on eggs-on-toast and tea at a small cafe. Browsed through a few local shops with names like The Moon and Sixpence and Ocky White and then headed for Scolton Manor. Scolton Manor is an old manor house with its interiors preserved as it was in the early 20th century. The library/study caught my imagination. The leather chairs, the pipes and tobacco instruments, an old desk with many drawers and pigeon-holes and old books lining the shelves. Then we toured the servants' rooms and climbed up the backstairs to look at the bedrooms and the nursery. The childrens' study room with its croquet, board games, rocking horses, and Girls Own Annuals hinted at a gentler time. Then another book shelf--this one filled with Jane Austen, Thomas Hardy, Dickens, et al, a glance at the sweeping suspended marble staircase and at the Barasingha (Deer found in Kashmir) head mounted on the wall and we were out in the late afternoon drizzle to watch the model air show being held in the Manor's grounds.
The model air show was a good example of the average British family's day out. More caravans and tents than people. A handful of stalls, 3-4 vans selling ice creams, burgers, tea and coffee and candyfloss and some 100 people standing by the wired fence listening to the ancient commentator dissect the salient features of the models and their makers.
After watching a yellow plane, a blue, white and red plane and a helicopter being put through their paces, we headed to the Go-Karting Centre where A and T raced each other down the indoor course and I read my copy of Elle. Dinner was a light chicken tikka baguette. Except that this chicken tikka had a pink mayonnaise dressing! Then we were off to our new, more comfortable quarters (with hot water) for the night.
Sunday's highlight was a trip to Picton Castle. The castle is a biggish Manor House, which at one time had a portcullis. I am biased, but the library, elegant, warm and with magnificent views, was just about the best room in the house. Saw a Renoir in the drawing room! Emerging from the surprisingly light and airy cellars we headed off to the walled garden full of shrubs in flowers and a fish pond. A disdained the overtly romantic surroundings and insisted we left. So barely 10 mins later, we headed off to the car park to experience A's version of romance and adventure by vaulting a barbed-wire fence and then drinking tea out of a thermos flask rather than at the nice little cafe in the castle.
And then it was time to go home. To pick up the newspapers from the corridor and iron clothes and watch TV and worry about the week ahead.
posted by Sabiha | 11:39 AM
6 Comments:
Congratulations, Congratulations! So now the job is officially yours. Very good, I say. Off home tonight to spend the weekend en famille. Will speak to you from there
nish
hey congrats! does this mean you don't get leave for a year?
No I think that rule doesn't apply in the UK. Which makes me think Indian employers are unduly exploiting their staff. I intend to take a month off in Dec (the tickets are booked, actually). But I think I'll check now just to be sure.
congrats on the new job, have caught up with your blogs
hope to post comments on a regular basis as have the internet home
whats the job like for what is the profile diff
Hey Sabiha! Congratulations!
Thanks Mads, Sheetal. Mads (is that Madhu or Madhav?), the job is much the same as what I was already doing i.e. PR. But now the Marketing role--events and publications--is added on as well.
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