Wall of sound

We started the first week of August with more than just a little trepidation. This, after all, would be the week that the wall between our and our neighbour's properties would be removed. Apart from any other inconveniences, we weren't exactly looking forward to the lack of privacy we'd have to contend with in our kitchen - which has a big window looking out on the passageway - and part of the garden for several days.

Peace and quiet still reigned when we set out on the morning of Monday 1st of August, which would turn out to be another muggy day, with highs of 26°C. 

Cool cottons to the rescue once more! If hot Summers will become our new normal, I guess I'll have to change the name of my blog!

Looking at the photos, I realize that only one item in my whole outfit is vintage (the brooch) and that, apart from the top from the Danish ICHI label, which I charity shopped two Summers ago, everything thing else was bought brand new. 

The necklace, with its colourfully painted wooden disks, came from Accessorize and has been in my collection for many years. The gold tone Gabor sandals were a sales bargain in the Summer of 2019, while I plucked the tiered skirt from a rail of reduced items at C&A while we were shopping for Jos earlier this year. The raffia belt, which has a black twin, was recently found on the high street.

At the office, I tried to bear it as long as I could without having to put on the air-conditioning, but brain melt left me no other option after lunch. It was a bit of a dismal day, particularly as I was on my own,  with only yours truly to moan to, as my colleague had the day off.

Meanwhile, Jos kept me up to date about next door's proceedings. Apparently, our neighbour and his uncle and cousins, who'd come all the way from Austria to help him out, had started clearing the endless piles of rubble from their garden in preparation for the impending building work. So far, so good.

Tuesday dawned sunny, but with quite a bit of wind, which somewhat tempered the 30°C indicated by the thermometer. It was still stiflingly hot, so I needed another one of my cotton frocks to keep me cool.

This bright blue flower and foliage sprinkled one was a gift from Vix back in 2019 which makes it extra special. And how serendipitous that she is wearing the skirt I gave her that same year in her latest post!

Creature of habit that I am, I always seem to pick orange to accessorize it with. I've lost count of the times I've worn this orange belt lately. It's super comfortable as apart from its front panel, it completely consists of a supple elastic. In spite of having its origins in a cheap fast fashion shop, it is still going strong after more than 10 years. The buckle is showing a bit of wear and tear, though, which is easily remedied by regular applications of a dab of orange nail polish!

My necklace and ring were both charity shopped and the brooch is vintage, found on a flea market.

With another Think Twice sales in full swing, I literally hotfooted it to my favourite branch for a browse, and ended up buying two dresses for € 5 each. 

You'll get to see one of the dresses in a minute, but let's have a look at the wall situation first!

As our kitchens were now facing each other unhindered and we were feeling quite exposed, we kept our shutters firmly closed, with only some chinks letting in the tiniest amount of daylight. Initially, our neighbour had promised to screen off the area to make things a bit more comfortable, but it never happened, not even after we'd reminded him a couple of times.

The mess in front and behind our compost bin are the sorry remains of the ivy and climbing Hydrangea which were growing up the wall. When we asked our neighbour to put these on his skip, he initially refused, telling us the skip was meant for building rubble only. However, he later did get rid of it after all. With council collection of garden waste as good as non-existent here, this saved us quite a bit of  hassle! And only rightly so, I think. 

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The temperature rocketed up to 32°C on Wednesday, so one of the dresses I'd found at Think Twice couldn't have been more perfect for keeping it -  relatively - cool.

Lightweight, sleeveless and with a solid white collar, this greyscale dress printed with black squiggles has an extra trick up its ... err ... sleeve in the form of a pair of deep pockets. It's so satisfying to shove one's hands into them when standing around doing nothing but having one's photo taken!

Its only minus point is its elasticated waist, but that was easy enough to hide under one of my belts.

There was no contest for red as an accent colour, which in addition to the belt, I used for my necklace, ring, cat brooch and another pair of sales bargain Gabor sandals.

No outfit photos were taken on Thursday, so I haven't got the slightest idea what I wore that day. 

My diary tells me the temperature dropped to 27°C, and that it rained both in the morning and again at night.

On our way home, we could hear heavy drilling and the high-pitched screeching sound made by a grinder when we were just half-way down our street. I'll give you three guesses where this terrible racket was coming from ... Obviously it was even worse once we were inside. While the concrete for the new wall's foundation was drying, our neighbour and his three stooges were completely stripping the downstairs rooms. This went on until about 8 pm, but only because we complained, as I'm sure it would have gone on for much longer if we hadn't. 

I had the day off on Friday, but at that point I can't say I was looking forward to the long weekend ahead. There was nothing for it but to make plans to flee the house as much as we could.

I watered the garden first thing, then, after our customary fruit & yoghurt breakfast, we slapped together a couple of sandwiches and were off for a day of rummaging, picnicking and sightseeing.

In between charity shops, we stopped off at one of the forts turned nature reserves surrounding the city of Antwerp, where we found a bench for our picnic. 

With the temperature down to 23°C, I could safely be a Polyester Princess again without breaking into a sweat. For some reason, this vintage frock, its pattern a patchwork of dotty squares in greens and yellows, hadn't been out of my wardrobe for a couple of years at the very least.

This one too has an elasticated waist, which I covered with one of my stretchy belts.

I love the dress's square necklace, although in the above photo I can see one of my bra straps wanting to make an escape. Oh well. 

I kept to greens and yellows for my accessories, and was carrying my current favourite weekend bag, a fast fashion find from the high street back in that age of innocence, Spring 2019.

Here's what I found in the charity shops that day: a silky Summer dress, a lightweight cover-up and a pair of mock croc ankle boots by Van Dal.

There was a short-sleeved shirt for Jos too, which you'll be getting to see in my next post, 

as well as a long-sleeved wrap dress, which I just realized I forgot to photograph.

With most of the afternoon still in front of us, we then continued to the charming little town of Lier. 

In spite of it being less than half an hour's drive from Dove Cottage, we do not visit it very often, unless it is for a social call, as Jos's younger daughter An lives in the town. In fact, we'd made arrangements to meet her later for a drink.

From the car park, there is no chance of missing one of the town's landmarks, the imposing St. Gummarus Church, and particularly its tower, which is popularly known as the "pepper pot".

From 1378 onwards, the former parish church was converted into this beautiful example of Brabant Gothic style. Construction took about 200 years, and influences of baroque and rococo are therefore visible. 

After passing the church and admiring its amusing gargoyles, we walked into the direction of the River Nete, which flows through the town. The striking building with its cheerful red and green shutters is called De Fortuin and was built in the 17th century. Over the centuries it has been used as a grain store, a coal depot, a lemonade factory, a cabinetmaker’s workshop, a town warehouse and a restaurant.

We've now arrived at the Zimmer Square, where the Zimmer Tower, with its captivating Jubilee Clock showing 13 different time indications, is taking pride of place. Both the square and the tower were named after the clock's creator, Louis Zimmer (1888-1970), who donated it to the town of Lier in honour of Belgium's 100th anniversary in 1930.

Too early for our rendez-vous with Jos's daughter, we then walked towards the beguinage for a stroll.

On the bottom left is the central part of the façade of  St. Margaret's Church, built in the 17th-18th century, and dedicated to St. Margaret of Antioch, martyr and patron saint of the beguinage.

The beguinage itself has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1998.

It is a typical 13th century street beguinage with 11 narrow streets and 162 small houses. Most of the houses date from the 17th-18th century. The narrow passageway on the bottom right is called "Hemdsmouwken" (meaning "shirtsleeve") due to its shape, and it is only 98 centimeters wide at one end. It was originally meant as a fire-break to stop fire from spreading from one row of houses to another.

We were gasping for a drink by now and although there was still no sign of Jos's daughter, who had been detained, we made our way back to the square, where we enjoyed one of Belgium's excellent range of non-alcoholic beers. 

Isn't Jos looking splendid in his vintage shirt from Think Twice?

Jos's daughter arrived just in time for another drink and a chat. Then, as our parking ticket was about to expire, she walked us back to the car park where we arrived just in the nick of time.

On our way home, we made plans for next day's escape from the wall of sound - wall of noise would have been more apt here, but doesn't sound as nice -  which you'll read all about in my next post.

At the close of July

Finishing the last chapter of my travelogue has been a bit of a wrench, leaving me with the feeling that our longed-for and long-awaited UK holiday is now well and truly a thing of the past.

The upside, of course, is that I can now continue with a catch-up of what the Summer of 2022 has brought us and, obviously and most importantly, what I've been wearing.

But what a Summer it has been so far! For someone who struggles with temperatures from the high twenties onwards, the on-an-off heatwaves haven't exactly been a gift. On top of that, we have been subjected to our neighbour's extensive renovation project for weeks now, with no end in sight. The constant, day in-day out noise going on well into the evening has made us flee the no longer safe haven of our house on several occasions.

But all that was still in the future in the last week of July as, yes, that's how far behind my blog is.

Monday the 25th of July marked the start of yet another working week, although having a free Friday to look forward to was making things ever so slightly better. Much to our relief, we were also treated to a drop in temperature, Monday's 24°C being so much bearable for both Jos and me.

Unless we are running late, we've developed the habit of stopping off at the Museum of Folklore about half-way down our street and snap a couple of outfit photos in its front garden before work.

That day, I was wearing a cotton frock, its floral print a cool tapestry of greens, blues and a dash of white, which I picked up from Think Twice in May 2021.

I added a dollop of mustard yellow in the form of my necklace, belt and briefly worn cardigan and pinned one of my favourite brooches, a creamy metal butterfly, to the dress's bodice. 

At my feet, a comfortable pair of gold Gabor sandals as yes, comfort has definitely been key for my feet lately!

Another pair of my most-comfortable shoes on Tuesday, although the forecast of a couple of heavy showers and temperatures of barely 20°C made me switch the sandals for a pair of sky blue flats closing with Velcroed straps. They're in the running for equalling the Cloudsteppers, but they're not quite there yet.

Anyway, the dress I was wearing is one of my lightweight Diolens, bought from a now defunct vintage shop in Antwerp which I had the pleasure of frequenting for a year or two.

I picked up the blue from its prevalent coral pattern, not just with my shoes, but with my cardigan, woven belt, necklace and ring as well. Even my floral brooch is rimmed in blue. Everything apart from my ring and shoes were charity shop or flea market finds.

The mercury remained hovering in the low twenties on Wednesday, but contrary to Tuesday the forecasted showers never materialized.  With the sun shining brightly all day, I could have worn sandals, although these navy blue flapper style flats tend to give my feet sufficient breathing space.

I could also have worn a less sweat-inducing dress than this Crimplene one if the weathermen hadn't got it wrong again in forecasting a similar day to Tuesday's.

Apart from a rather riotous navy, cobalt and yellow on white pattern, the dress is graced with a wide wing collar and an admittedly rather superfluous bow at its neckline. It's not one for the faint-hearted though as it is certainly making you stand out in a crowd.

I picked yellow for my vintage beaded necklace and navy blue for my ring. The navy belt with its cream plastic buckle used to belong to my Mum and it's one of the rare things in terms of clothing and accessories that I own from her.

Thursday was a sunny but windy day, which felt much cooler than the 23°C the thermometer claimed it was. 

Cue the wearing of more Crimplene, in the form of the flowered and dotted blue blouse I charity shopped between Lockdowns in 2020. Its companion is a beloved vintage skirt sprinkled with daisy-like pinkish flowers. This too was a charity shop find although predating the blouse with several years.

In fact, everything else I was wearing - including the shoes and jacket - was charity shopped, except for the stretchy belt and my pink plastic ring.

The shoes, though! Bought for just € 4 in September 2018, my feet have always been happy in this pair of blue Miz Mooz slingbacks. That is, until now. I had blisters before I even arrived at the office where, luckily, I had a pair of ancient ballerinas lurking in case of a shoe mishap. I immediately changed into those, as I was having coffee with my friend Inez during lunch break and I couldn't see myself limping to the coffee shop in those pesky Miz Moozes and make matters even worse ...

The temperature was on the up again on Friday, easily reaching 25°C, which was just perfect for what we had in mind that day.

After a leisurely fruit & yoghurt breakfast, we packed a couple of bags of donations into the boot of our car and went charity shopping, followed by a picnic and a stroll in the park.

As we were eating our sandwiches, we spotted the Egyptian goose with the manky wing we'd seen around a couple of times. As Jos took pity on it and threw it a couple of crumbs, the park's waterfowl dropped whatever they were doing and starting arriving in their dozens, loudly quacking and honking for their share. Oh dear, that was the rest of our picnic spoken for. Let's say that we were literally one sandwich short of a picnic. Only literally though, or at least I hope so!

After the last of the crumbs had disappeared into the birds' hungry mouths ... err ... beaks, and peace had once again descended on the park, we walked around the perimeter of the largest of the lakes.

Although things would become much worse, the lack of rain had already left its mark on the park's vegetation. We couldn't help noticing the large number of unripe acorns littering the ground. Another result of the ongoing drought, and a health hazard to horses, cattle and dogs due to their high tannin content, which makes them poisonous.

I was giving this green linen blend skirt its maiden voyage that day. I found it in the Zara sales a week or so before, instantly falling in love with its colour and pattern, and queuing for all of twenty minutes at the till, as it was the very last one and I just had to have it.

I'm not in the habit of shopping at Zara, and although I've got a couple of Zara items in my wardrobe, all of these were charity shop finds. In fact, I think this was the very first time I bought something directly from the shop.

My tropical print, short-sleeved King Louie jumper (charity shopped, obviously) couldn't have been more perfect to accompany it, as it matches the skirt's colour and its embroidery almost exactly. 

I matched the orange embroidery with a flower corsage, string of wooden beads and plastic ring in the same colour. Both the stretchy belt and the straw and fake leather handbag were found on the high street.

Oh, and my feet were being pampered with my black Clarks sandals, a sales bargain from the Shropshire town of Wellington back in 2018.

In spite of our offerings to the Goddesses of the Charity Shops, pickings weren't exactly plentiful, but I still managed to snaffle another pair of Miz Mooz slingbacks. They needed some TLC, plus I'm hoping my feet won't make me regret my purchase, but with 50% off they were just € 2, so even if they're a failure, they definitely didn't break the bank.

Browsing the bookshelves in both of the shops we visited yielded these three for my ready-to-topple reading pile. I'm currently reading Lucinda Riley's The Lavender Garden, which is exactly the kind of light entertainment I need right now.

And talking of books, in her comment on my previous post, Vronni said she'd love to know which books I picked up on my travels.  I have left one of them behind on the cowshed's bookshelves after reading it, but these are the ones that made it home. 

In the meantime, I've read both The Garden of Lost and Found by Harriet Evans, which I loved, and Sorrow and Bliss by Meg Mason, which although brilliant wasn't the most easy of reads.

We both had a bit of an off-day on Saturday, but we still managed to drag ourselves from the sofa and go for a walk in our favourite park, Middelheim. A short walk, it turned out to be, as it was rather stifling and humid, the mercury making a move towards the high twenties.

There was a temporary exhibition by French artist Camille Henrot (b. 1978), but as it's running until 16 October, we'll be going back another time for a proper look.

Above, top right is Undelivered Message (2016), which was outside at the back of the Braem Pavillion.

We hadn't been inside the Braem Pavillion since before Covid, and as it has been recently repainted, we went in to admire this prime example of Organic Brutalist style, designed by architect Renaat Braem (1910-2001) and completed in 1971.

Above, top left, is Second Semester (2019) which was one of the works inside the pavillion. 

Now, before I got, let's have a look at my outfit. I've no doubt that my top's magnificent collar has already caught your attention.  From the Belgian label Lucy Has A Secret, it was a charity shop find in September 2019. The skirt, with its gauzy Paisley patterned layer over a solid orange one, was charity shopped last Summer, while my wide purple stretchy belt came home with me last Autumn.

I was in danger of wilting by the time we reached the museum's castle café, and I was starting to look and feel like the small sailing boat moored along the castle's moat. 

That too, is a work of art, of course, by Austrian artist Erwin Wurm (b. 1954).

The bent out of shape sailing boat, which is called Misconceivable (2010), is a characteristic Erwin Wurm piece in which a familiar form deviates subtly from reality. As the title indicates, this piece causes doubt and a sense of uncertainty in the observer. 

I, on the other hand, think it's very conceivable that, just like me, it has succumbed to the ongoing hot weather!

To skies that knit our heartstrings right

It's the final installment of my travelogue which, considering our holiday was almost two months ago, isn't a minute too soon. By now, my holiday memories are starting to gather a fine layer of dust, and if I'm not careful they'll slowly recede into the mists of time.

In just under three weeks we'll be going on another adventure, so let's get these ones done and err ... dusted!

I'm covering our final four days here. Too much for one post perhaps, but then again, not enough for two, so let's make a start with Tuesday the 23rd of June.

Once again checking the weather forecast for the day ahead had been a bit of a letdown, offering a mixture of grey skies and the odd shower, not to mention a quite unpleasant wind, accompanying the measly highs of 17°C.

It is quite unheard-of for me to wear a jumper during the Summer months, but that's exactly what I did that day. This mustard yellow honey-comb knit one was a charity shop find earlier this year, while its companion, the groovilicious maxi skirt, was part of my charity shop haul in the weeks before our holiday. I added one of my by now famous chevron belts, pinned a dink butterfly brooch to the jumper and, instead of a necklace, wore a pink, grey and white chiffon scarf at my neck for extra warmth.

Our itinerary for the day couldn't have been more simple: we were off to Shrewsbury to do a spot of shopping, perhaps throwing in some sightseeing if time and weather allowed.

Confidently, we entered the address of the nearest Park and Ride into our car's built-in Satnav, fully expecting her to direct us to the left at the end of our lane, just like her predecessor did in years past.

But no, she was about to ignore the left turn and would have made us drive over the Long Mynd if we'd let her. We turned a blind eye to her instructions and turned left, thinking that we'd made her see sense by doing so. Well, what can I say? We might have averted another scary Long Mynd episode, but she still made us drive up a steep and narrow lane leading to the middle of nowhere. The views were marvellous though, the tiny bump in the horizon being the Wrekin, rising above the Shropshire Plain to a height of 1,335 feet (407 metres) above sea level: a prominent and well-known landmark, 

Having finally, and safely, arrived at the Park and Ride car park, we boarded the bus which was waiting for us. It would be the first time in well over two years since I'd been on a bus, and obviously we wore our masks, even if the majority of our fellow passengers didn't.

After less than 15 minutes, the driver expertly negotiating traffic, we alighted at the Market Square.

From there, we strolled up the High Street, Pride Hill and finally Castle Street, where our first port of call, Marks & Spencer, awaited. After buying underwear and a classy new pair of pyjamas for Jos, we made our way up to the top floor café for lunch.

Afterwards, we followed our noses for a while, exploring the town's maze of lanes and alleys (which go under the name of "shuts") until I declared it was time for a rummage at the charity shops.

While Jos was taking a breather on a bench, I went in and out of the charity shops lining the street called Mardol, where most of them seemed to be concentrated. It's here that I found the denim maxi skirt (below, top right) you could see me wearing in my previous post. I also found a charcoal grey based floral cotton skirt as well as couple of books.

Mission accomplished, our next stop was the Market Hall. 

The three columns with the axe-like heads on the top right are part of the Darwin Gate Artwork. Charles Darwin is without doubt Shrewsbury’s most famous son, who was born here on 12 February 1809.

The Market Hall, which includes a 240 ft (73 metres) clock- tower, an indoor market and a ground-floor shopping centre, was hailed “the most modern building” in Shropshire when it opened in September 1965. Today, the indoor market is thriving, with over 70 small businesses, traditional market stalls selling fresh farm produce standing alongside cosmopolitan cafes, award-winning artisan producers, vintage and antique sellers and a host of quality craft and gift stalls. 

Considered a monstrosity by some, it is only when viewed from above - the photo on the bottom right obviously isn't mine - that its cunning ocean liner shape becomes apparent.

Although the rain had thankfully held off all day, it was a completely different story on Wednesday, when rain would be very much on the menu. In addition, the mercury had now dropped to a decidedly unsummery 15°C. 

After some deliberation, the day's destination was finally settled. We would drive down to Church Stretton which, as the crow flies would take us just under 20 minutes. The problem, however, is that the crow would most definitely fly over the Long Mynd, approximately following the route of the famous Burway, which is something we have been trying to avoid at all cost.

Taking the far less scary detour by way of A and B roads took us about half an hour instead. 

Church Stretton nestles in a wooded valley, its spectacular setting the ideal base from which to explore the Shropshire Hills. The town has a variety of independent shops, traditional tea rooms, pubs and restaurants, plus a unique antiques emporium. And it was the latter, rather than its hill walking opportunities, that made us decide to come here that day.

Crammed with antiques and collectibles, there nevertheless wasn't anything which tempted us to pull out our wallets. Perhaps this was due to the bad news we'd received earlier that day, learning that Vix and Jon had tested positive, so that our planned meeting the next day wouldn't be able to go ahead. We were also due to meet Claire and her husband Gareth at the same time, but as he was still suffering from the aftermath of a cold, and both Jos and I had a mild case of the sniffles - not Covid, thankfully - we decided to cancel our meeting entirely. 

After leaving the antiques emporium, we had a rummage at the town's handful of charity shops, where I managed to find a second denim skirt, which you've already seen me wearing as well.

Lunch - mine was a chili jacket potato - was had at The Bucks Head, where we were served by an overly friendly and visibly nervous waiter, for whom we suspect it was his first day on the job.

Then we headed to St. Laurence's church or, in fact, we made a run for it across the churchyard as it had started raining by then.

The 14th century church with elements of  previous Norman architecture has as rare pagan fertility symbol or sheila-na-gig (above, bottom right) which can be found on the north face of the building over an old Norman doorway.

The sun had come back from her hiding place when we were exploring the churchyard, but such was the fickleness of the weather that once we'd retrieved our walking sticks from the car, she'd gleefully drawn the curtains of grey again. In fact, we'd only put our first steps on the paths of the Capability Brown inspired Rectory Wood when we found our plans thwarted by persistent rain. We just made it to a pool shaded by ancient yews and overlooked by the remains of an old pumping house, where we waited out the rain. 

With forecasted highs of 19°C, it started to feel a bit more like Summer again on Thursday. 

It was the day we were supposed to meet Vix and Claire at Attingham Park, but although the meet-up was cancelled, we still went ahead with what would be our final visit to a National Trust property, clocking up a total of 7 properties using our Touring Pass. Having paid only half of what we would have done without the pass, it had definitely been well worth the original outlay.

As if on cue, the heavens opened just as we were making our way to the Stables Courtyard, so our visit started with a browse in the second hand bookshop and a mooch around the stables.

Part of the Grade I listed mansion, which was built in 1785 for Noel Hill, 1st Baron Berwick, was in scaffolding, and only the basement was open for visits, so we opted to give it a miss. After all, we'd been there twice before, in 2018 and 2019.

Instead, we strolled around the walled garden, admiring its lavender lined borders, which are a haven for bees and butterflies.

Before returning to the Stables Courtyard for lunch, we had a look inside the Bothy, which is where, historically, the unmarried gardeners would have lived.

By a stroke of luck, the rain held off for the rest of the day, and what's more, the sun had come out to play when we set out for a walk after lunch.

I was wearing the maxi dress which I'd shortened especially for the occasion. Now it was just the perfect length to wear with my Cloudsteppers without tripping over its hem. I'd ditched my orange leather jacket by then, but was still wearing one of my King Louie cardies. My stretchy orange belt, orange beaded necklace and green plastic ring completed my outfit.

We'd chosen the 2,5 mile Deer Park walk, its directions instructing you to look closely in the bracken and ferns of the Deer Park, and you might be lucky to spot some of the deer herd.

We never expected to spot any deer at all, so it came as a complete but pleasant surprise when several of them suddenly materialized, seemingly unperturbed by our presence!

That evening, back at the cowshed, we were in for another treat in the form of a magnificent sunset, for which I grabbed my camera and walked up the lane.

Then Friday, our last day, dawned. As if that in itself wasn't bad enough, we were on tenterhooks to receive an email from Eurotunnel that we were OK to travel. Apparently, the French still needed people's vaccination certificates to enter the country, even if like us we would only drive through it for half an hour. We'd duly uploaded our certificates 72 hours before travelling on Wednesday evening, but by Friday morning we still hadn't received an email. 

The weather, mostly cloudy, windy, and punctuated by  a couple of showers, didn't really contribute in lifting our maudlin moods. 

Our original plan had been to return to Shrewsbury, but we decided to give the town a miss and revisit a magical garden we'd discovered back in 2019. Glansevern Hall Garden lies on the banks of the River Severn in Mid Wales, near the lovely little town of Montgomery.

Apparently, a lot had happened in the three years since we were last there. In 2020, the estate was purchased by Naissance, a company which sources, manufactures and supplies natural and organic oils, butters, raw ingredients and skincare products.

The somewhat neglected gardens are currently being restored to their former glory and thus there is no admission charge as such, although people are free to make a donation.  

The gardens were still a joy to explore, with its follies and hidden corners, although some areas seemed to be closed off, which made finding our way to the Lakeside Walk, which circumnavigates the lake and leads you past the Island and its Iron Gazebo, a bit of an enigma. And no, it wasn't our knack for getting lost which was at play here, as apparently other people were having the same problem.

We concluded our visit at the on-site café where we had the one and only cream tea of our holiday. 

I'm sure it would have tasted a lot better, though, if we hadn't been totally stressed out by Eurotunnel's lack of response.

We kept checking our emails and logging into our account all through the evening and at the crack of dawn the next morning, and still nothing! It was only when we'd stopped at one of the services on the motorway later that morning that our account showed the green check we needed to travel. We never got an email at all.  What's more, when we asked at the Flexiplus lounge at the terminal what would have happened if we hadn't received the all clear, the steward replied that he had absolutely no idea.

So, that was it, our first UK holiday in three years over in the blink of an eye.

It'll be business as usual, whatever that is, in my next posts, but for now, I am leaving you with a photo of me looking wistful and having a serious case of the last day of the holidays blues!