Long time between drinks – Brampton

19th May 2006

When the wheels of the plane skidded along the ground, I simply thought that’s it, I’m Back! We got off the plane and it was a shocking -2 degrees and foggy, very cold compared to Egypt, it caught me totally off guard and I was in no way prepared for it. We went through customs, through which I had a few problems because I had not got my British Passport yet, they wanted to know everything about me, from where I was staying, to who I was staying with, and they wanted to see my tickets with my return date on them. Finally, I was let go and I went to collect my baggage with my parents, we came through the arrivals hall, and I was again wearing my Indiana Jones hat, I thought Aunty Chris would like that. I came through first and Aunty Christine of course did not recognise me, she hadn’t seen me since I was eleven.

I recognised her though; in thirteen years she had not appeared to have changed much at all. She was still the same woman about as tall as my father, who is not very tall at all, with a friendly face, one of the only differences I noticed was that she had let her silvery blonde hair grow a little longer until it just brushed the back of her shoulders. I walked right passed her and the snuck up behind her and yelled “Boo!” She must have clicked on that it was me because she gave me a big hug.

We all then went to sit down at a coffee shop at the Heathrow Airport, because the A1 was so clogged it would take ages to get to Huntingdon where we were staying anyway. We sat and chatted, and I attempted to call a friend of mine back home, Adam, to let him know that I had arrived safely, but alas my international roaming was still not activated on my mobile. I had a nice hot chocolate, which was nice in the cold and then we went to the car, lucky Aunty Chris didn’t have one of those SMART cars or we would have been in big trouble with all our luggage.

We drove down the A1 and I marvelled at the stark contrast between the country I had just come from and the country that I was now in. England was always so green, that was something I had definitely remembered from my last visit, it was even a shocking contrast compared with Australia where there is greenery but most of it is khaki shrubbery and gum trees. England is real green.

The drive took around an hour and we kept getting lost and rerouting back to Heathrow, it was torture for me as I really wanted to get to Huntingdon, the little town I had missed ever since I was a child. We finally arrived and tired and cranky as we were, Aunty Chris took us straight to the Black Bull at Brampton. Typical, I thought, not even a chance to dump our stuff, straight to the pub. Typical Wilsons. We arrived at the Black Bull at around 7pm and stayed till around 10:30pm. Garry, Aunty Chris’ new husband who I had not met was waiting for us in the beer garden. I recognised him from his pictures and description my parents had given me as soon as I saw him.

He is tall, with long wavy hair and actually looked like one of the good old “Aussie Yobbos” as my brother calls them that I hang out with back home. That is until he opened his mouth and a Londoner accent burst out, know what I mean? He has a cheeky way about him and always seems to be trying to make Aunty Chris bite at the little digs he often has at her, something which is not difficult, and Dad also manages quite well on that front. As always though things like that are all in good fun and a good laugh.

We stayed in the Black Bull, which is quite a small, cosy pub, with an old bar, an area for sitting and drinking and a pool table. I snuggled up in a cosy corner with a large Jack Daniels, my favourite drink and listened to what was playing on the radio. Oasis. I thought to myself I could quite happily curl up into a little ball and go to sleep right here. When Aunty Chris finally took us to Uncle Paul’s house, where we were staying, we were all exhausted and I climbed up the steep winding staircase and fell into bed.

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