MORE ABOUT THE HAZARDS OF MOVING TO THE COUNTRY. They motor down on a Friday evening and arrive around supper time. You are so pleased to see them The next day you take them on a tour of the local attractions and they talk of making the move to the countryside themselves. By Sunday lunch, which is very long and lingering, they are serious and asking you to send them the local papers so they can look for houses near you. Late Sunday afternoon you wave them off and,as they motor back to the city, you settle back to have a look at the papers and sip a last glass or two. There's nothing to do as your delightful guests loaded the dishwasher before they left, made their beds and emptied the ashtrays. They were easy to have around, great company and you're looking forward to them coming again. If it is like that sometimes, you will be lucky. Mostly, you can't wait for them to go. They leave a mess behind that takes until Tuesday to clear up. When you knew your friends in the city, you invariably met up with them for an evening. But the whole point about townie friends, once you have moved to the country, is that they stay for a whole weekend. Suddenly, you get to see them first thing in the morning. Not pleasant. They have some very unsociable habits. They arrive with kids and dogs and au pairs that you didn't know were coming. They suddenly seem very picky and faddy about food. They say they'll turn up on Friday evening in time for supper but they actually arrive in the early hours of Saturday, crashing drunk, waking the kids and claiming the trains were delayed. Talking of trains, you spend the whole weekend driving them everywhere if they do come by train. God, weekend visitors are a nightmare. Entertain them? Yeah, sure, at first you might but you won't see them after a few visits. Or if you do they'll be a pain. They'll poke your fire and complain about how cold it is. They don't bring jumpers or wellies and expect you to provide them. They bring white and drink red - unforgivable. In fact, they bring cheap white and drink expensive red - even more unforgivable. They drink rather more of the expensive reds than you'd have thought possible. It's hard work, cooking every meal for several people for a weekend, preparing the beds, getting the shopping in, tidying up (at least a bit) and putting off your usual weekend activities. Once they have arrived, you find your privacy is severely curtailed for 48 hours rather than just an evening, and you feel obliged to stay up every night until they want to go to bed, and be up in time to get them breakfast in the morning. We all have different styles of entertaining, but however laid back you are, weekend guests put paid to any ideas of a relaxing weekend for you. You'll be too busy giving them a relaxing weekend. And it's expensive. A weekend shopping bill when you have friends staying - especially when you want to give them a good country weekend with a Sunday roast and plenty of apple pie and home cooking - can come to as much as your usual weekly shop when you're on your own. While some friends are always welcome, others will eat all your food and then disappear for the day, returning only for a slap-up supper at your expense. They just wanted a free weekend in the country, with all meals cooked and washing up done for them. You come to dread them visiting. And, you see, there's a funny thing. People don't wait to be invited for a weekend in the country. The etiquette seems to be that they phone up and invite themselves to stay. I sometimes wonder if it isn't due to a feeling that they're doing you a favour - deigning to keep you in touch with civilisation. Saying no politely can be tricky, too, because they often ask, "When would be a good weekend for you?" Either you have to be rude, or you have to let them come. Malcolm Muggeridge and his wife once stayed with friends for the weekend. They had driven away, having said their farewells, when Malcolm remembered they'd left their umbrella in the front porch. Rather than disturb their friends his wife popped back to collect it and was startled to see their hosts in the sitting room doing a bizarre little dance which involved hopping from one foot to the other while waving their arms in the air and chanting `they've gone, they've gone, they've gone, they've gone'. Good on Muggeridge for having the nerve to tell this story against himself. Of course, it's not always like this. Some friends will be an absolute delight and will clear up after themselves and be entertaining, helpful, friendly, suitably awed about your move, interested in what you are doing and it's brilliant to catch up on all the gossip. They offer to walk your dogs for you, look after your kids so you can have a nap after cooking that huge Sunday lunch, bring a decent red and some flowers, get a taxi back to the station after lunch and drop you a note to say thanks later in the week. That's perfection. If only it happened more often. Published by White Ladder Press @ £7.99. Copies are available from the publisher (free p&p) on 01803 813343 or at www.whiteladderpress.com. The Most Beautiful Country Towns of England by Hugh Palmer is published by Thames & Hudson and available from Amazon UK for £17.46. Here is the Amazon revue:- MOVING TO THE COUNTRY, COUNTRY LIVING UK, LIVING IN THE COUNTRY. HOW TOWNIES NEED TO ADAPT TO A NEW LIFESTYLE TO ENJOY COUNTRY LIVING.
[RELOCATION GENERAL] [RELOCATION CHICHESTER] [DIRECTORY] [ BOOKS] [ESCAPE TO THE COUNTRY - MAPS] [STORRINGTON]
|
and they come in to smiles and hugs and a decent bottle or two of red warming next to the Aga. Over supper you regale them with tales of your move and how you've settled in and everything that's happened to you since you relocated. Their stories of city life seem pale and boring in comparison to yours.
They smoke in the bedroom. They insist on seeing all the local tourist attractions, which you've visited every weekend since you moved. They mock you about moving to the sticks, instead of being suitably impressed. They seem bright and fun and young and you realise that living in the country has made you old-fashioned, out of touch and drab. They won't go and are still there eating and drinking you out of house and home on Wednesday. You won't see them in the winter. They think you're a free b\u200A&\u200Ab.