Today the stars were against us... the tube was running slow, the train was delayed... we waited at the station for a good fourty five minutes, and when we finally hopped aboard, we had to get off again, due to the fact that it was actually the wrong train. But, no matter, I had a play to read! And friends to keep me company.
You know, this was my first time on a London train. As mr. Brower would say, they are "smooth like buttah!"... at least in comparison to the jostling experience you get on the tube.
Anyway, it was well worth the travel time, the sitting time, the waiting time, and the reading time... we alighted at Shoreham Station, and headed out on our country walk!
The English countryside was breathtaking from a tour bus window. ... But that view was nothing compared to what I saw as I spent the day walking through it. Somehow the addition of the cool morning air, the sound of birds, the water in a brook, and wind in your eyes, made a world of difference.
We stopped first at a small church cemetary. The headstones covered in lichen and moss, all grey and green and yellow... and the grass growing wild and thick. The wooden walls of the little church were old and cracking, and the trees all swayed silently to some unheard rhythm in the air.
For the first time in the last month, I could breath! You never realize how dirty the air is, until you get outside it. And let me tell you, the air in good old London Town is outrageously difficult to breath... But not out there, in the country. It's beautiful... and clear, and clean.
We walked out of the churchyard, and onto a little path. It led us slowly past rolling hills filled with tall, wet grass, and blue, burning skies. You'd see a row of poplars going off at an angle in the distance, separating this field from that, or perhaps standing sentinel over a small country lane. And then there'd be one lone tree: big enough, thick enough, that you could spend forever reading a book at its base. Branches spread low over the earth. It would stand there, dozing in the bluish, foggy mist. And I'd watch, and wonder how many picnics it had sheltered, or how many children had skinned their knees trying to scurry up its trunk.
There came a break in the endless hedge on our right, and the path led us through the opening. The clouds billowed and bloomed above me, and the earth swelled up and down like waves, and it was so wet, and quiet, and filled with sound. There was a little white bird that flew from one tree to another. And great stone bridges that crossed the stream we followed from time to time. Brick walls, yellow and red and brown and green and purple, all at once: as though daring a rainbow or a painter's pallet to rival them in color, or texture, or interest.
We stopped at a place called the "Hop Stop". Did you know that a "Hop" is actually the part of the grain that is used to make Beer? Well, it is. And I saw them. Though I'm sure it would have been more interesting if I drank every now and again. ;) Though part Brewery, the Hop Stop was also a Lavender Farm. They sold lavender bread, lavender cookies, lavender ice cream, and lavender extract. We had a hay day, sharing our purchases, and trying new things...
A home made HoHo--which was gigantic and covered in sugar.
Victorian Lemonade--which contains only .5% alcohol! ;)
Ginger Beer--which burns your throat on the way down.
Cheese Straws--which were crispy and delicious.
Pistachio Ice cream! Lavender ice cream! Rum cake! English Crisps! Dried butter beans! And lavender shortbread!
It was one of the few times I've really felt like all of us were... friends. Talking and laughing and sharing and eating. Spending the day in the English Countryside.
Later as we continued our walk, we came across some horses grazing near the road. There was one little foal in particular, who was getting a lot of attention, and giving no notice. Everyone sat there and clucked and called, but to no avail. I walked up, and said "hello! is your name Joey?", and his little head shot up, and he walked straight to my beckoning fingers. Well, we laughed quite a lot at that. It was almost an exact reproduction of a scene in War Horse, where Albert names his horse. Anyway, I guess that means I'm Albert.... hmm... haha
We visited an Archaelogical site for some Roman Ruins... which were quite educational. But the best part was the lift. (Jill and I discovered it, and had a party). See, you had to push the button the whole time, and if you stopped, the lift stopped. So you could be stuck, halfway between floors, and since it was glass, you could see into both the one below, and the one abve. It was totally AWESOME.
Unfortunately Lancelot gave us a parental glare.
Anyway, after that, a lot of the group headed back to the train. But a small bunch of us went on to see some castle ruins. And, of course, I'm always up for castles.
We jumped around for a while, exploring the ancient walls... And then we all slowly congregated in a loose circle in the shade, some sitting on the grass, some leaning aginst the stone, all talking and laughing. The sun was shining, and the sky was blue, and we were just... basking in the English Countryside, without a care in the world. We played some games, quoted some movies, and even made our own! (A new episode of "Sassy Gay Friend", starring Christian and Paige!)...
It was so wonderful to just sit there, and know that we were friends. I mean, REALLY friends. Even if we didn't know a lot about each other. Even if we hadn't spent more than a month in one another's company. We were friends.
We took the train home and chatted the whole way. We played a ridiculous game at the station, where you say a word, and the other person has to say it backwards immediately, without thinking about it. (Most of the time your replies make absolutely no sense at all, but it makes you laugh till your sides hurt, and it's a good way to pass the time).
"Pickle!".... "Icklicklip!"
"Education!"... "Nickelubedid!"
"Horseradish!"..."Sishdiserish!"
... As we walked home... our friend, the man in the red sleeping bag, lay snoring in his usual place--by the brick wall, near the tree, at the corner, a block from our flats. And he was familiar. And the street was familiar. And the bus stop, and the lamp posts, and the black gum on the cement was all familiar... And the people I walked with were familiar. And I thought... How good it is to have a friend.
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