Big day of scanning and photographing and website work and DVD ripping. But first order of business: the sea. It was windy and cold, which explains the grimacing. One and a half minutes:







I have an almost identical shot from the beach in Mexico. I am wearing less but am much warmer. On the other hand, there's rule of law here. Win some, lose some.

And now, the grocery store.






I'm always interested in grocery stores in other countries. The panoply of strange brands, the way things are organized, the local treats, the odd combinations. Watercress and corn sandwiches!

British milk! Ever since Brexit, I was told, they're big on local sourcing. Pride and all that. Well, good for them for Jingo Milk.

The Aldi's was nothing like its American counterparts, at least the ones I've seen. It had the sheen of a high-end store, and a fantastic array of private label products.

We had three curries from Aldi's, and they were exceptionally good.

Rather sparse liquor department, with an amusingly almost-there bourbon name.

I wonder if the "Joe" is a connection to Trader's, or just a European notion of what an authentic Bourbon might be named. "Old Special Blend." Probably doesn't take too much varnish off the furniture if it's spilled.

We also went to Morrison's, which was nicer. And then there's Lidl.

There's a lot that could be improved here.


Rowan Hill? It's like Benny Cleese.

It seemed a brilliant innovation, though -

  . . . until I realized that it wasn't a half-loaf of white, and a half-loaf of whole wheat. WHY don't those exist?

More John Bull jingoism in the meat department. Can you guess what they're trying to do here?


What is Lidl trying to do here?

Get it? No? Why does the sign at LIDL use these words?

Drove back to the manor past a windmill. Everyone's used to them. I find them sinister. These huge blades moving with slow deliberation, like some alien apparatus.

Dinner with Jan and Gavin, which included conversations about her . . . well, Conversations, her BBC radio comedy starting Joana Lumley and Roger Allam. Wide-ranging sparkling convo as usual, with one moment that was absolutely typical of my stays here. Talk had turned to musical comedy, something Denis knows something about, and I mentioned a theory that "My Fair Lady" had a double meaning, because "my fair" would be how Eliza pronounced "Mayfair." As this website notes.

"Bollocks," said Denis.

"Well let me ask," said Astrid, and she picked up the phone and texted a friend who happened to be the seventh wife of the man who wrote the lyrics for the play.

"Absolute bollocks," she texted back.

Well, there you have it.

After dinner, back to the Huut.

It's a vacation rental, and also Denis' studio for music and recording. The day ended with more ripping, since I had volunteered to get the Ethel & Albert shows off the DVDs so we have them in digital form lest the media degrade. Which it will.


The last title says the show was directed by Walter Hart. Up in Astrid's office, the old chair he used when he sat on the other side of the desk from Peg and worked on the TV show.

All these ghosts. So many ghosts.


Tomorrow: up and out.




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