October 18, London and points West

Thomas Wolfe was wrong.  You can go home again, and it is lovelier than ever.  We set off for Paddington Station (of Bear fame and where six year old Amy actually did lose a doll and was able to reclaim it at Lost and Found). Thought our Oyster cards (the prepaid transit cards) would work and when they didn't we tried to buy tickets at several of the automatic kiosks.  By the time we decided we had to queue up at the actual ticket office, Charlie was getting a little anxious as we had missed three of the four trains we could take to Reading. We were being met by old friends and colleagues from 1976.  But we made it, taking our seats as the train rolled out.

This was really a trip down Memory Lane.  We were met by Brian and Barbara, whom we hadn't seen in nine years when we met in Paris.  He had hired Charlie (with the help of the Fulbright award) and they had done some preliminary house hunting for us.  Upon arrival (in 1976) they watched the kids while we pursued their leads.  So we blame them for introducing 4 year old Matt to Dr. Who, so traumatizing him that he wouldn't sleep in his own room the entire sabbatical. But that's history.  We drove from Reading, virtually unrecognizable since our last visit, through the countryside, still green, green, green, and dotted with small villages. This area is 30 minutes west of London, a manageable commute, so prices have skyrocketed.  The homes are very old, mostly small, and bloody expensive.  And if their house is any indication, cold, drafty, and jerrybuilt, with little rooms added one at a time.  But quaint!

We drove to lunch at a very upmarket restaurant along the Thames where we met Anne and Maurice. She had edited the book Charlie wrote way back then.  Had a delightful and interesting lunch, complete with celebratory champagne and delicious (yes, in England) food.  We were the last ones out of the place at 3:30.  Brian offered to drive us through Henley-on-Thames before returning to the train and we jumped at the offer.  While the landmarks remain, most of the shops have turned over, traffic has been rerouted, and it is even more charming than ever.  We found our old house, mostly by following the route I walked twice a day taking and picking up the kids at school.  (The school has closed, as has the Henley Brewery.) We walked along the Thames, past several of our old haunts, and then returned to the Reading Station and back to London.

The view of the Thames from the restaurant in Streatly. That is said to be Michael Caine's home across the river where you can see the boathouse.

Five Elms, 1 Belle Vue, our rental home in 1976, virtually unchanged since then

Still the Thames, but in Henley

We hadn't bought theater tickets, but decided to try to see The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night.  Went directly from the train to the theater in Piccadilly, where they were sold out.  Emboldened by our success at the Sofia Opera, we scouted for "touts", the British term for scalpers. Found a young man with a pair for the "stalls" and we were in.  I hadn't realized they had made a play of this book, but since I loved the book and wondered how it could possibly be adapted for the stage I had it on my top picks for what to see.  And it didn't disappoint.  Felt we really got inside this autistic boy's head and could experience his world.  As with the show last night, it seems the staging is at least as important as the writing. Really remarkable and unique play. We are two for two with our theater picks.

And home to bed.  Again a nutritious dinner of a candy bar at the theater and toast and jam at home.

10297 steps (4.4 miles)