In Love Again

I am in love. I managed to take a slow train from Liverpool Street to Harwich International on Friday, passing through some lovely countryside and places with strange names like Wrabness. They seemed to have sent me a first class booking, which was very comfortable indeed, with a mini carriage and I had four seats and a table to myself. The two Johns met me and we got back to their house for a lovely cup of tea.

Their house is rented, but is the best rented place I have ever seen. Completely modern, it was built about eight years ago, and I had my own bathroom and a lovely large bedroom. There was a decent sized garden, which will please Miss Bettaware. After dinner at home we went to Frinton to meet Charles, who has been largely ostracised since his appearance on TV. Margaret, the sad woman in the show, has been happy as people have travelled miles to purchase bits from her shop and meet her. Charles is rather delighting in the current notoriety, which is however already beginning to wear off. He was delighted to see us, and will visit Miss Bettaware and John in their new residence soon.

But why am I in love? Who is the object of my affections? He is a wonderful huge black rabbit (shown above), Miss Bettaware and John's 'baby'. He is apparently a French Lop, and has huge hanging ears, a huge head and the softest fur ever. He is only a baby, but is due to grow to weigh 10kg. He lives in the garden in a hutch. However he has the run of the garden in the daytime, and spends plenty of time in the house. He is called George, and is gorgeous. We spent hours playing with him.

On Saturday we had lunch in a hotel called The Tower, which was quite ornate and interesting. The food was OK, but Miss Bettaware's lamb shank was a bit dry, apparently. We then had a drive around Harwich and I saw some very pretty properties all under £200,000. Actually I did not dare look around one which I loved which was very near Miss Bettaware. It looked like a little two storey gatehouse, totally made of traditional stone, in front of an old church, and only £165,000. I knew I would have been more than tempted. Impulse buying of clothes is one thing, properties quite another.

On Sunday we found a super little pub for lunch: The Cross Inn, at Horsley Cross, near Manningtree. I thought it would make a great venue for a pub lunch for the punters, so took a card.

Getting back to London was difficult as we discovered there were all sorts of railway works, so Miss Bettaware drove me to Mark's Tey to catch the train.