Reggie Thomson’s Diary

I got up before six and drove off to find a sunrise photo. I could only find a gate with some dew, and it didn’t look so good afterwards. There were lots of small villages or hamlets around the Longleat estate. I found a nice house with fuchsias in the doorway. Then it was time for breakfast.

I had lots to eat back at the farmhouse, though wanted to leave some space for the main meal of the day in Longleat. After a bubble bath, I went out to take some more photos of the village. However, the screen suddenly died on me. I can still see the image looking through the viewfinder. I hurried back to my room. The photos are as before, except I can’t review them on the screen. I always use the screen. It’s a bit of a disappointment to lose it.

I joined the folks at the Bath Arms. Morag received a phone call from Peter. Apparently, Tim’s shop in Manchester, which is due to be opened on Monday, had been fire-bombed. He would still be able to come to the golden wedding celebration, but would have to drive up to Manchester immediately afterwards. Morag was somewhat upset. Fiona calmed the situation.

Fiona quite liked my purple shirt - the colour of Harmony, apparently.

Miles drove Elspeth, James and Philip up, but didn’t wish to join in the meal. They are now divorced. Hamish returned from a nearby second-hand bookshop. Aislinn amused Dugald, or Dugald amused Aislinn, by saying: “Old man,” to which Dugald would reply: “Who said that?” and proceed to chase Aislinn.

Mum and Dad were driven to the Bath Arms by chauffeur. The horse and trap then arrived for them. I took a few snaps, but had to take lots - I didn’t ask people to pose, or even turn my way. I tried waiting for pleasant poses, but they were rare.

I rode down to Longleat with Rona and Tony. The staff had closed the driveway, and a lion was directing the traffic to an alternative exit. Elspeth wanted a photo of Philip next to it, but he didn’t wish to cooperate.

Mum and Dad arrived by the pony and trap. The piper was awaiting by the step of the front door. I took a few snaps there, and then preceded them round to the Orangery. Someone visiting the house started doing an attempt at a “Highland Fling..” in the doorway. It seemed rather thoughtless, and perhaps typical of English humour.

The Orangeries, fortunately, is bordered by a thick hedge and all but one entrance left open, so it was perfectly private. We took some photos together, and were allowed into the rose garden maze, though nobody went round it. We also took some group photos - or rather, one member of staff did. She took several photos of the whole group on my camera. Nobody has taught British people that a question in the mind produces an ugly face. Questions are the most important things in British thinking, outranking beauty by a factor of 100 to 1.

There were two tables inside, split roughly by age. I was at the lower table. The food was delicious. From time to time, I jumped up to take some more candid shots, especially when the sun gave a great background with fill-in flash. Some of the snaps were incorrectly focused - it’s harder to check through the viewfinder, though I’ll admit that even with the screen it was sometimes difficult - the monkeys of Kamikochi are out of focus, for example.

Fiona was in charge for the “speeches”. She made us hold hands to sing a simple song. Various people presented cards or presents. Dad gave a speech about the overdraft that we will all be inheriting, and was quite emotional about seeing us all together. I was sprung upon to propose the toast, which was a bit awkward because I don’t know what to say in such situations. I mumbled something about “Let no debt remain except the continuing debt to kindness.” It turns out to be a misquote from the bible (”Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another. Rom 13:8 NIV”) .

We had a few more minutes to talk, eat the cake, and take photos before we were required to vacate the room and gardens. I walked back with H amish to put some stuff in the back of the car. We then returned to near the Orangery to wait for the others and find out what they were going to do - but by then everyone had separated. I quickly found myself alone.

I wandered round the gardens, took a ride on the train, and went into the children’s zoo. I also queued up for the “Ugh” show - but it was mainly for children. I withdrew some cash from a Links machine - even though it cost £1.50. I had forgotten my cheque book.

In the evening, we sat in the private lounge in the Bath Arms. I brought my computer to look at the photographs, but we weren’t able to show them on the TV, which had all sorts of complicated SCART interfaces, but no simple video in. Fiona was amused by my verdict on most of the photographs. I kept saying that we looked “grim,” because we weren’t smiling. Tony later remarked that his one regret was that he hadn’t hired a professional photographer.

In the course of the evening, or perhaps on the previous evening, I learnt that one of my great aunts had committed suicide. Fiona had tried to probe Dad on the reasons for this, but had just been told that she “couldn’t cope.” Also, one of my great uncles is apparently buried in Japan.

Morag and Peter went off to a supermarket for some sandwiches. Tim, Amy, Gillian and Phil had all left soon after the meal, and Elspeth departed later with Miles and the children. Morag and Peter were delayed in returning by a slight accident with a motorcycle.

We tried to make some music in the evening. Rona and Tony had brought an electric piano, but we didn’t seem to have any music for Morag to play. Dad wanted to do some Scottish dancing. Perhaps I should have brought the CD drive for the computer and some CDs of Scottish music. It would have been better than my attempts at whistling.

Fiona then asked us to make up a story, in which we had to build on the previous person’s contribution, and add our own. We had to go into a room in a house, and give some reason why we came out again. It seems, as she summarised afterwards, that we have a problem with drink - whisky, wine or beer. I was the end of the chain, and, as Fiona rightly assessed, “played safe.”. I brought a notepad with me because it was what I should have used when taking the photographs. I sanitised a scene from a window by suggesting it was just a realistic DVD on a screen made to look like a window.

At the end, we sang “Auld Lang Syne” and retired to our rooms or separate B&B’s.

So, from hitchhike to hired car in two weeks. I guess I won’t have golden weddings to get to very often. It cost £120, and with petrol and the B&B at £25 per night, I will be spending in a weekend more that I went through in a month in Japan.

When I hired the car, the salesman tried to put pressure on me to buy an extra insurance option for about £40 that would remove the £250 excess on the policy. If it was £4.00 I might have taken it. He told me that most claims are not actually the fault of the driver - for example, windscreen chips. “Surely a windscreen chip isn’t going to cost £250!” I argued.

I set off at about midday. I decided to avoid the boring M11/M25/M4 route, and instead went up to Northampton. and tried to find the route via Oxford. I took an early turning for the Oxford route by Northampton, but went up the M1 to get back on track. Around Oxford, I saw a large sign that told me to go straight for Swindon. I followed the sign, but it turned out to be two sides of a triangle, and though a better road, was quite a bit longer. I stopped on the M4 for a break, then continued to Bath, refuelled on the way to Horningsea, and found my way to the Bath Arms. There was no one around, so I drove down to the Mill Farm Bed and Breakfast. I was shown to my room and dumped my stuff. I took some photos of the farmhouse, then walked back to the Bath Arms. Rona and Tony went by and peeped. Hamish drove past and picked me up.

We had a large sitting room area to ourselves, with several rooms off it including a kitchen. Morag drove me over to the hotel where mum and dad were staying - a remarkable house.

We had a meal together in the Bath Arms. I took some snaps, but should have used the red-eye reduction on the flash.

I bought a telephone extension cable and nailed it into the wall round the front door, drilling a hole through the ceiling to take the lead into the boiler cupboard. I thought I would be able to punch a hole through to my room, but the wall seemed to be brick. I started drilling, but went though one drill bit width before realising that the house had a small alcove at the front. I drilled from the cupboard in my room, and was soon connected.

The NTL internet connection doesn’t work - it just redirects me to an advert page. It’s as well I signed up for a new Freeserve account. Hamish has written, offering me a lift to Longleat if I contacted him by yesterday morning. I decided to hire a car - buses and trains seemed expensive and inconvenient.

I printed out some photos of Japan as a present for mum and dad. However, I don’t have all the originals - some of them are at Jonathan’s in Tokyo, and others are with Andrew and Sarah.

I’ve asked Dale to leave. Andrew had specifically mentioned that it was let out as a single room to a single person. He seemed to suggest that Andrew only told him after he had signed the contract.

There was an advert for a Assistant Computer Officer in the Cambridge Weekly News. I cut it out. They want someone part-time.

After waiting for an hour on the telephone, I eventually got through to NTL to pay the bill by credit card. In theory, it was supposed to be the lodgers’ responsibility to pay the bills. Perhaps I need a clause in the contract that says that the deposit will only be returned in full where there is physical proof of all bills paid. It cost me an extra £60. On the next bill, in September, I had to pay a £40 reconnection charge for the two lines.

I phoned Andrew in the evening to confirm that he had made it quite clear that the large room was let out to a single person.

I met Dale in the kitchen in the morning, but there seemed to be some strain. Later, his girlfriend said hello as they left. It seems I have an extra lodger.

I tried to use the internet, but kept getting a recorded message. It seems that the telephone bill hasn’t been paid for two months.

The house is fine. I think it was a good idea to buy the microwave, as the cooker is in better shape than I expected. The dracena hasn’t fared so well, though I’m pleased it is stll alive. It has lost a lot of leaves, and one of the stems has died. Otherwise, it all seems in good order. The front door was left unlocked, though.

I went shopping in Budgens for the basic necessities. The bike is fine.

In the morning, I used the internet to find out about buses to Cambridge. Luton was the most convenient, though a little further for Robert to take me than Bedford. I ordered and paid online, and printed out my ticket. I also signed up for a Freeserve account, in case I don’t have access to the free ntlworld account.

Soon, I was on the bus back to Cambridge. From the bus station, I tried contacting Andrew, but there was no reply. Since it is a bank holiday, the buses to Girton didn’t seem to be running. I decided just to walk. I think I saw a single bus when I was about half-way up the Huntington road. My suitcase has two wheels, but when I got to Thornton Road, I noticed that it was getting difficult to pull. The wheels had heated up and melted the bearings. I had to carry it for a while.

Andrew and Sarah’s new house is very spacious. I had a quick look round, and opened some of my mail before we set off for Balsham. My IBM microdrive has been replaced - so now I have 1.25 Gbyte of memory for the camera.

There was a crowd of about hundred people there, and plenty of excellent food as a buffet. Ian talked about how Alex wanted to set up a website as a guide to the whole world - quite a task! Roger and one or two other folks talked about Daniel’s computer - the one I had sold him last year. The electricity supply had been hit by lightning, which had knocked out the computer. Various people were helping to get it reinstalled.

We were all asked to make a limerick about Tom, who is leaving for Norwich shortly. I declined. Julian gave a speech, to which Tom replied.

Andrew and Sarah now have language students in their new house. We drove back at six to give them their evening meal. I stayed to chat and catch up on the latest news - more about the flood and stories about lodgers. Andrew tells me that the new lodger in my house seems OK, but he had made it clear that the room was let on a single basis.

So, late at night, I returned to my own room in my own house. Andrew gave me some new sheets and duvets, which they had bought for my house at a cost of over £100.

We walked to church - just up the road. A couple lead the service, starting off by saying the children could draw something - whatever came into their minds. The service was about “the lost” - sheep, coins and son. The older children drew to the theme, but the younger ones just scribbled. At the end they all had to bring the art to the front and explain it.

We played houses in the living room after lunch, making walls and roofs out of the cushions.

In the afternoon, Robert, Madeleine, Ruth and I walked up to the park, meeting a very big, friendly cat. However, the girls were a bit frightened of it. One of Robert’s friends was also pushing his child on the swings. He recognised my Northern Ireland accent, since his sister has recently moved to Lisburn.

So, it was swings, slides and then the roundabout. We stopped at the ice-cream van on the way home. Robert treated me to a Magnum white, and chatted to the guy about his new van. He makes all his own ice-cream - and gave me a spoonful sample.

On the way back, Madeleine was getting tired. Robert, normally jovial and easy-going, seemed to get a bit annoyed. It lead to a bit of a discussion about comparisons with bringing up children in Japan. I mentioned that children in Japan seem to get a lot more attention when young, so that there is less likelihood of them creating a scene to gain attention later in life. Robert, at one point, thought that I was almost accusing him of neglect. I, therefore, had to mention some of the examples of how Japanese parents can sometimes (maybe often) sit a child on their knee while driving or in the passenger’s seat. It would be illegal in this country.

We had pork pies left over from last night. They seemed typically English to me - going back beyond the Mrs. Beaton days.

Robert had a problem with his computer, where it sometimes didn’t start when switched on. I ran a disk check and did a defragmentation, after clearing out lots of unused temporary files. This seemed to solve the problem.

I telephoned Andrew and Sarah, and they suggested I came at 2p.m. and went with them to the Catherwood’s.

My job for the day was to entertain the children, and a pleasant job it was, too. Madelaine and Ruth would hold up a doll, and I would hide my face. “It’s rooode!” I would exclaim, because the doll was naked. I think they enjoyed the freedom to be in control of an adult. Well, maybe I’m not a real adult.

The bouncy castle arrived in the morning. Robert had to persuade the gentleman to collect it in the morning, rather than taking it away at 9 p.m. I spent most of the day on it. It was great. We played games. I would bounce in rythmn with the children to help them bounce higher. Then there was bouncy castle non-contact sumo - the first to fall or touch the walls lost. Another fun game was just running round to touch the four posts - again you were out if you fell. In quieter moments, we tried headstands or just rolling around.

I brought the camera down and started taking some photos. They liked looking at their photos on the viewfinder straightaway. Madelaine was easy to photograph. Ruth kept asking “Have you taken it yet?” However, the question was written on the frown on her face, so I couldn’t take the photo. We started talking about “Mrs. Carrot,” and other funny names, and then the eyes started to twinkle with the fun of amusing thoughts.

In the evening, when the guests started arriving, I put the camera away. There was lots of delicious food. I chatted with a few people, but I don’t think I’m a “party person.” I went on the bouncy castle and gave piggy-back rides. The older children were sometimes a bit rough. Sometimes, the power went off and it began to collapse. This frightened some children, but it was quite fun when the power came up again.

One lady was about to go abroad for some time, and wanted a few tips. I’m not sure I was able to suggest much. I think I said that it is good to keep a whistle in the pocket in case of danger.

Later, when most folks had gone, down to about a dozen, the guys went onto the bouncy castle. So we played “touch the walls and you’re out” and “run round the posts without falling.” It was quite a laugh.

Two hours after going to bed, I was up again. I still had to pack everything away. After a quick breakfast, I was driven to Kishiwada station, calling by Reiko’s house to see her and her dog. I said my goodbyes, and purchased a ticket to the airport.

I checked in my rucksack and suitcase, which they had scanned and taped up. However, I noticed that you aren’t supposed to carry nail files. I had to take mine out of the small backpack, and squeeze it into the suitcase. Only my checked-in luggage was weighted, so I didn’t have to throw away any of my clothes.

I had several hours to spare, so I typed a few emails and wrote a message for the homepage. I logged onto the internet for the last time from a public telephone in the airport. Then, I boarded the plane.

There were three Italian-looking gents in the row in front of me. Actually, they turned out to be from Basque. As I went past, they broke into laughter, presumably at some prejudicial remark based on appearance. They had to stifle their mirth when they discovered I was sitting directly behind them. Welcome back to the world of facial discrimination.

I think the check-in lady had misheard my request - I was placed just beside the wing, though I had a window seat. I could see down a bit.

There wasn’t much to do. I wrote down some notes about things I might wish to comment on in a Christmas letter, and read the Japanese version of the Yomiuri newspaper - or rather, skimmed bits of it. The food was good and I went for the wine to accompany it.

The gentleman next to me found another seat. The other gentleman on the aisle seat spoke French to one of the stewards, but there seemed to be a bit of a disagreement at one point - something about the food. Another steward had to calm him down. At first, I thought about doing the “Japanese” thing - ignoring (i.e. ostracising) him for breaking the peace. However, he later turned to me as if to back up his case. I ended up chatting to him in French, although I am considerably rusty. He was returning from a karate (or was it judo) tournament in Kyoto, with a group of students from a university in Basque. He was interested in the photos - and took one of my namecards.

It was cloudy below, so I didn’t mind keeping the shutter closed - all the way across Russia. We touched down in Frankfurt mid-afternoon, and I had an hour or so to wander round the airport. I don’t have any Euros, and had no need to change any.

The flight to Heathrow was similarly pleasant but uneventful. I retrieved my baggage and went in search of a cash machine. Finding the bus station was difficult - it didn’t seem very well signposted. Then, I had to figure out where to buy a ticket - in a small office hidden away.

I caught the Luton bus. I misheard the bus driver telling me which compartment to put my baggage in. “I said ‘the small one!’” Welcome back to the country where there is only one possible, plausible reason why someone has to ask again - because the listener is stupid.

The bus was packed full. A gentleman came round taking orders. Perhaps I should have mumbled mine and called him a moron for not getting it first time. I wanted a hot chocolate.

I phoned Robert from Luton bus station. There didn’t appear to be a connection to Ampthill. He drove down to collect me. I wondered where I was. About 75% of the people around the bus station were of Asian origins.

So, we chatted for a while, I had a bite to eat, and I managed to keep awake until just after ten.

I put all my clothes into the wash in the morning. It meant we were slightly late leaving.

I didn’t quite realise at the time where I was going. We drove to a nearby city hall, and went down to a basement room. Some ladies were waiting. I was asked if I could give them an English lesson. Oops! I was quite unprepared! Still, they didn’t mind just talking - mostly asking me questions about what I have been doing in Japan.

Afterwards, I was treated to a meal at a nearby restaurant. I wasn’t particularly hungry, so just ordered a side dish. We then came back to Etsuko’s house. She had made some delicious cakes. One of the ladies purchased a CD, and they gave me some money for taking the class.

Another friend called round later in the afternoon - more cakes! Mmm! He owned a camper car, so we were given a tour. I think it could sleep six! He also purchased a CD. Now I have some spare cash. I’ve left my bank book with Noji-san, in case I wish to allow Japanese people to order and pay directly to my Japanese bank.

There was lots to eat in the evening, too. So much, that they phoned some friends to help finish it off. They discovered, or rather, I happened to mention that I like chocolate. We ate some white chocolate after the meal, and I was given two large bars of Meiji chocolate to take back to England.

Etsuko is very keen to improve her English. For the most part, in conversation, she can communicate well. She is probably of an upper-intermediate level, and the jump to advanced is quite a struggle. Perhaps part of the reason is that there are always more students at a beginner level, and hence most classes are for beginners to intermediates. We looked on the web for some of the individual learning programs that you can sign up to over the internet, but I didn’t find anything suitable. I downloaded NetMeeting, but in the absence of a microphone, we didn’t really achieve much.

We also talked about some inter-cultural communications difficulties that resulted in surprise reactions. Perhaps western ladies are overly conscious about their figures, and apt to interpret innocent comments as criticism.

I stayed up to four a.m. in my room, continuing with some typing. It is the equivalent of 8 p.m. in England. Tomorrow I shall have to stay up until at least 10 p.m.