by Saturday the 28th was when Dad brought up three-quarters of a century. In the morning us four men, including the little man, went to the car boot sale. (The previous time I was down there it didn’t run because the field was flooded.) Then it was off on a steam train as a birthday treat of sorts for Dad, though it was really more of a treat for my nephew. He was clearly enjoying himself. The train ran from Norden to Swanage, which is by the sea, and made three other stops along the way. They run old diesel trains on that line too, but you know in advance when you book which type of train you’ll get. Our steam train didn’t have open carriages like the narrow-gauge mocăniță I took in Maramureș in 2021, and though it topped out at just 25 mph, that was very speedy compared to the one in Romania which also had a much longer line.
We got off at Swanage and headed to the beach where my nephew built sandcastles (tap it!) and we ate chips. A typical British seaside town, not down at heel like so many these days, not full of ghastly posh shops either, but simple and really quite lovely. It was a cloudy day, so it wasn’t busy. It brought back memories of the wonderful simplicity of the seaside when I was little. I can see the sea! Rock pools, shells, sea anemones, the cycle of tides, so much time. When my brother and I were small we sometimes camped at Sheringham in Norfolk. My brother would like to take his kids back there, or anywhere by the sea really, when they get a bit bigger, but his wife never went camping as a child so it might be a hard sell. On the train back we stopped at Corfe Castle for cream teas. Jam and cream oozing out of our scones. A delight. There were some wonderful family photos from that day: the ones on the train and of all seven of us at the beach. (I had actually been to Swanage once before, at the time of the Easter floods in 1998.)
Sunday was another “hot” day. My nephew had a meltdown and got stung by a bee. We had coffee at Wetherspoons. I had a depressing discussion of the Ukraine situation with my brother who understands it all much better than me. Then on Monday, after a fifth night on an airbed in the study, another episode of Nick Cope’s Popcast and my nephew’s latest tantrum (my brother is a brillant dad really, dealing with it all), I went back to St Ives with Mum and Dad. This was a tiring trip that involved being stuck at Cambridge North station for half an hour (one of the doors broke) and being in rush-hour traffic in Cambridge on the bus.
The next day I had my day trip to Birmingham. I left at 6:30 am and got back at nearly 10:30 pm. Given the extra time I spent at my brother’s, it was really one trip too many, no matter how much I like Brum and wanted to see my uni friend. What were the highlights? Well, one was having coffee on the top floor of the Cube building and the view from up there. Edgbaston, the Old Joe clock tower. So much green around where I went to uni, but the centre suffers from a lack of it. Another highlight was lunch my friend’s girlfriend had made for us and all her positive words about her recovery from cancer. I suppose the Jewellery Quarter was a highlight too, though I’d seen it before. Judging by the cars, there’s an awful lot of money in jewellery.
I was in St Ives for my last day. No obligations. I had coffee and a muffin with Mum and Dad at a newish place called the Ivo Lounge, then I met up with some family friends (the ones who came to Romania in 2017) and that was very enjoyable as always. We even talked about meeting up in Budapest which would be wonderful if it could ever happen. Later we ate at Wetherspoons (yes, Wetherspoons featured extensively) and watched bits of Wimbledon. The match between Taylor Fritz and Gabriel Diallo was of high quality and a pleasure to watch. Fritz won in five sets and barely three hours, reminding me of the good old days when games and sets flew by at Wimbledon.
I was up early the next morning for what would be a long day. I’d picked up a cold, ultimately from my nephew I think. As I just about had one foot out the door, I had another quite major run-in with Mum. It was all because of how horrible and unreasonable she was being to Dad who had only asked her a simple question. I just couldn’t let it go. She talked about wanting to die. Why does she do that? She had stomach pain which didn’t help, but bloody hell. See you whenever, she said. Whenever is likely a year away, maybe more. Dad walked with me to the bus stop.
I took the bus to Cambridge, then a train to Bishop’s Stortford because a broken rail had put paid to the one to Stansted, then I got a replacement bus (I was lucky to get that) to Stansted. A good job I’d given myself some time. After my flight to Budapest I took a bus and then the underground to the main bus station called Népliget. I had loads of time, and because it was so hot and I had a cold, I was glad to just mooch around the underground part of the station which was full of funny places to eat and drink, all designed for locals. A seven-finger signal from the barlady meant that a beer cost 700 forint. I didn’t really want a beer, but I did want the loo which would otherwise be a minimum of 300. The bus to the Normandia bus station (a 15-minute walk from my flat) took 4½ hours. I got back at nearly two in the morning. Kitty was happy to see me.
It’s good to be back, or at least it will be once I’ve stopped coughing up green gunge. I’ve talked to Mum. It’s as if the business just before I left never happened. We get on fine at a safe distance. I’m having to seriously think about what to do next year though, because things can become very unpleasant whenever I get within a mile of her.
They’re into the fourth round at Wimbledon. I haven’t seen much of it, though I did see the end of Cam Norrie’s admirable five-set win yesterday over Nicolas Jarry. Norrie had had a match point in the third-set tie-break and faced a barrage of huge serves from the other end. His own wide lefty serve was extremely effective though – it got him out of trouble in the final set.
We’ve had very hot weather. No surprises there. But we’ve just had one of those ear-splitting mass alerts informing us of a storm about to rip through, and one of my students has postponed a lesson to tomorrow.
Here are some non-family photos:
