This may look more like ‘What are you?’ than ‘What ho!’ but this furry brown alpaca is in fact none other than Bertie Wooster. He and his companion Jeeves lead a peaceful, snack-filled existence on an orchard in Wales accompanied by fierce geese (George and Mildred) a cockerel named Cromwell, some anonymous ducks and a host of unnamed fruit trees. And lo! there we were just the other day, in brilliant sunshine with a terrific view of the hills and enjoying all the usual concomitant benefits of a Grosmont holiday.
We did all the usual things: Daniel took photos of the castle and orchard; I took the dogs for a walk ending up in the pub where I escaped the Royal Wedding by slipping out to the beer garden, only to come in again at the point where the fearful words ‘If any of you know any reason in law why these persons may not marry each other…’ were being uttered. I sampled the local beer, caught up with the local gossip, had a drink with a friend and heard in detail the frightful story of how my brother-in-law’s boat went down to the briny deep, thankfully without him or my nephew on board (more on that story later.) Daniel discovered the piano in the church and played for a while; it’s amazing how the fingers remember tunes they haven’t played for years. He was trying to recall Fur Elise and I was able to play it from memory precisely.
We had whizzy journeys there and back with no hold-ups (though I imagine the M42 round Brum will get a bit cloggy at rush hour.) On the way we stopped at a peaceful service station in the middle of nowhere; you could actually hear the birds singing. Daniel rigged up a navigation system (not that you really need it, except for the last bit which goes along country lanes with high hedges indistinguishable from one another and all in mobile and internet black spots so Google can’t help if you get lost. Which you do) whereby he connected his mobile to a speaker and hey presto! who needs satnav? In general I prefer to use my own nous when navigating but lately with memory lapses that doesn’t always work so well.
And so to bed, as Pepys was wont to say.
Here are some more pics:
Kirk out
Sarada Gray 
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