Another embarrassing delay for the blog output, but we have been busy and down to London… and today was changeover day, and tomorrow is the first day of Parwich Wakes so there have been other priorities.
And it is nearly midnight now but I just wanted to bob my head up again and briefly break the silence. ‘Went the Day Well’ in St Paul’s went very well, and more of that to come, tomorrow I hope. London was good; Wimbledon was on and the Pensions strike was on so we expected the train and things generally to be more crowded. Everywhere was littered with policemen but we saw and heard nothing of the march other than two decidedly nearing pension-age teachers in the tube, looking very clean and orderly, proudly sporting badges asking us to protect their pensions.
There was another incident which we completely missed and John didn’t even know about until I arrived late at our planned meeting for lunch on St Pancras station (who would have dreamt ten years ago that lunch on the station could actually be a treat? In the past all one could have was a greasy burger and chips, with a rather distinctive smell of artificial flavourings and slightly stale hot fat, which the (myriads of) pigeons would do their best to pinch off you).
This other incident was a ‘fire alert’ at King’s Cross. Those of us in the tube hoping to dscend at King’s Cross for St Pancras were told in an announcement – fortunately repeated ad nauseam because it was almost incomprehensible at first – that because of the said alert the tube would not stop at King’s Cross and those that wanted to get off there should descend at Euston. Fortunately I was in good time (train-catching if not lunch-wise) but there were numerous very harrassed looking passengers hurtling along the pavement, pulling behind them suitcases-on-wheels which were lurching wildly from side to side and toppling over in their owner’s haste.
On the road were ambulances and fire-engines and police cars… Whether it was a real fire or a ‘fire alert’ – whatever that technically is – or a training exercise I have no idea. Anyway, I got to St Pancras without any problem, too late for lunch but with several minutes in hand before our train left. Since then we’ve heard nothing more about the incident; it’s almost as if I dreamt it all (which I did not!).
Back to Parwich. It’s always the same: you open the car door and instantly smell that lovely fresh, green, sweet air and hear all the birds. Tomorrow with the Oddfellows’ March, a band, a’village market’ on the green, a mini fun fair (if maxi-noisy) for the children and young at heart, a fancy dress parade and lots more, the centre of Parwich will not be peaceful; up here on the edge of the village peaceful it will remain, but the jollity is not far away for those that want it.
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