Paddington Station stretches below me as I write, people dashing from one end to the next with great purpose. I am happy for them and their purpose - no one looks particularly distressed or fragmented as they blur from place to place. But I am especially glad for my own small self, because I am not alone as I sit here. Next to me is my companion of years, the firmly loyal and cheerful man who may have the beginnings of jet lag. In short, the SconeLady's husband!
We sit waiting on a comfortable leather couch overlooking this most famous of places. Before us is the detritus of a pot of tea, a coffee, and sandwiches which (unexpectedly) were superb. Fresh. Soft. Generous. From above us drifts the careful and cultured voice of the lady announcer, reminding of departures and abandoned baggage. There is an hour before train time, and we await our own departure for all points South.
London transport is a study all its own, and one day I would like to study it. Yesterday, a Friday, it was a little bit overwhelming as I found myself surrounded and borne swiftly off. This was especially so in the morning (forgive me for not remembering it would be rush hour), noon (not quite sure what) and late afternoon - the other rush hour. In the morning I was on the Underground between stops when I was suddenly caught up in a sea of black suits - everyone walking fast, everyone apparently late for work. Black really was the favored color, if it is a color, and it was all terribly professional and business-like. And then there was me in my traveler's clothes and sneakers.
And so we say goodbye to London and all its charms, for a time. We will exchange it for the sweeter attractions of a harbor, and green grassy cliffs, and eager seagulls. Perhaps a wood burner to ward off the chill. And I am thinking - scones! We will be in a cottage with a kitchen, so who knows? Maybe the SconeLady will turn her hand to baking.
Whatever. With or without a rolling pin, it will all be good, my dear Readers. There will be scone opportunities galore, for it will be Cornwall - the land of limitlessly exquisite Cream Teas. Join me here as I seek them and find them along the way. One in particular calls..the cream scone from the Digey Room. The gracious host who loves to discuss his methods and his history. With no strict agenda laid out, we have time. We have interest.
We have each other.
See you along the way!