Let’s go to Halesworth.
When one arrives in Britain after an absence of a few years you expect things to have changed a bit (Indeed my friend
had warned me I might find London “almost sci-fi” different.)
Well I arrived after the usual travel fiascos I touched down at Heathrowe and London was still London. A bit noisier
(the constant sirens), a bit smellier – doesn’t anyone know where the public loos are? And the swarming crowds of
humanity did overwhelm me a bit.
But it was home. England my England.
In a haze of jetlag, I seemed to be immediately caught up in the thick of it (!) as my friends fairly immediately
whisked me off to a Jeremy Corbyn rally – this was just a couple of days before his astonishing victory.
After the first fifteen speeches I started to lose my enthusiasm, but it was great to see what the late great Tony Benn
would have described as “Marvellous, all these kids getting excited about politics” – this reference from his support at
one of our own youthful political forays.
Back to London domestic life. The friends were back at work and I was free to peruse the environs of Stoke Newington.
The last time I went there I was charmed by Church Street. Strolled through the cemetery (Hello William Booth, thanks
for all your good work), bought outrageously expensive gifts for my boys in the beautifully un PC High Street shops
(bought a Gollywog for my youngest and generally reveled in the thought of being back home.)
However. Twas time to go to Suffolk.
So then we went to Haleseworth
To be continued
ends