Imagine the perfect little english town - a sleepy place, at the very end of the underground line - as far from London as you can be without being inaccessible. The narrow laneways all lined with small brick houses, overflowing gardens both out front and back. Neighbours talking along the high street where the children address their school teacher as miss and are visibly stealing from the local market. People sit reading the local paper, others pass walking the dog, all with a friendly hello. You catch snippets of conversation - all including the latest soap, the royal family, gardening, and neighbouring villages.
But then you realize that you must be playing into some sort of stereotype and can English towns really be That different from Canadian ones? And if anything - there can't be that much to say about the royal family!
But then you come to Chesham - indeed the end of the metro line, settled snuggly on the hill between Amersham and Berhamstead - the perfect little sleepy English town. Where the neighbours do have you over for dinner, and I eating more than I've eaten in the past week sleepily listened to conversation about Gardening, their family and neighbours, the best markets and restaurants in the dozen surrounding villages and of course the Royal Family (And the weight they have lost!).
And not far from London, its made for a good weekend. Two days to catch up on sleeping and journaling in Chesham, and a weekend of royal gardens, art museums (the tate was Amazing!) and theatre in the city. Saturday was Havana Rakatan - a night of Cuban dancing, and Monday will be the matine of the ballet of Romeo and Juliet at the Royal Opera House and for the evening we are going to see Wicked! Plus tonight we are going to "Shake your booty" at the local pub George and Dragon for the bank holiday. All the pubs here have two names - george & dragon, the booth & slipper, and rabbit & hare.... but I'll be getting my true English pub experience!
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