Snow falling thick and fast forced us all to make a quick visit to The Rope Gallery in Barton on Humber! Talea captured the thrill of snowflakes for three sisters while Justine dashed into a supermarket!
A compulsive game took firm hold on the family. Leecy, introduced to Bananagrams in Australia, knew instantly it would make good Christmas presents for the Rubber Tramps and the Ramsden family – she was so right! Totally hooked, the rapid rattle of tiles and the shrill defence of words became a fast and furious nightly ritual. Easily drawing in passing friends and relatives with the noise it generated.
Combating non stop eating with daily exercise and plenty of family high- jinx in Moat Farm’s heated pool.
Train change at Doncaster- Not even delays on a bitterly cold platform with snow flakes drifting in upon us was able to dampen our spirits.
From Kings Cross Station we made our way to Jesmond Dene Hotel, a mere block away. It couldn’t have suited us more perfectly. Dropping off our luggage we promptly caught the tube to Victoria and met up with Carmen over early dinner. On making our way across the road to the theatre – icy conditions had Lea and Leecy hanging on to each other fearfully when a splat on the pavement had them realise one of their number was down!
I know my heart,
I know my mind
I know that I...
Stick out behind – OUR HOLLY!
Fortunately the man at whose feet Holly had fallen helped her back onto her weak pins as her family became a helpless gaggle of giggling Gerties. The mention of the above chant to Holly had us all rocking with mirth in our seats that it was as well we were in the very back row. Soaring seats - miles away from the stage had us hire one pair of binoculars between us. As the lights dimmed we were surprised by an unexpected stampede as savvy folk left their cheap seats for better pickings. Virtually leading the charge was Justine.... It took a good few nervous twitches and fumbling in the dark before we spotted the younger generation holding down upgrades for their old aunts! WICKED proved to be a wonderfully frothy musical.
Our basic family room made a warm, comfortable and blissful dormitory for us despite a chorus of purring!
An excellent English breakfast sent us charging out the door ready to shop ‘til we dropped.... D R O P taken literally, when Holly promptly bowled herself over onto the ice in the middle of the road. By the end of the day she had added a few more dislocations to her spine and no doubt would require her chiropractor the moment she set foot back in Cape Town. We walked our feet off between glorious shops and galleries eventually limping our way to the Dinner and Theatre special we had picked up for £20 p.p. Our meal at The International was upmarket and excellent. The seats in The Coliseum were another story. Straight up and cramped – making it very uncomfortable for our weary bodies and long legs, it spoilt our enjoyment of The Snow Queen. We also came to the conclusion that programmes such as “So you think you can dance” both in Australia and England have raised the bar so high when it comes to imaginative dance that the choreography of this ballet was not quite as fulfilling. Although it was Holly and Talya last night, the oomph had been taken out of us all that we were only too happy to wend our way back to the tube and our beds.
Jesmond Dene Hotel kindly stored our luggage while we made the most of the remaining hours in London. Chilly winds with snow brewing made it difficult to enjoy being outdoors in Camden Markets and eventually we retreated into a restaurant for a last meal together before returning to the hotel to collect our luggage and subject ourselves to the misery of goodbyes as Holly and Talea departed for Heathrow and we headed home.
Despite the sadness of ‘when next will we be together’ we’d garnered many memories and Tom Yum garnished with groundnuts, helped perk us up.
We made a train change in Newark for Grimsby. Soon after stopping in Lincoln we became aware of a young girl with four tiny children in our carriage. We were all drawn to watching a four year old girl - not a day more, caring for two younger siblings, while her Mum saw to the baby. All were ill-equipped to cope with a wintry night let alone dressed for snow. It was a most sobering end to our trip, helping the pregnant mother by taking the pram, baby and three little mites off the train and across the rail lines only to watch them walk home across the ice, at a late hour for little mites. What a predicament. It haunted us and had us count our blessings, one by one.
We had but a few days to repack our bags while keeping an anxious eye on weather reports as we prepared for our twelve day jaunt around England in our little “noddy” car with Leecy. Heavy snowfalls were once again cutting off roads and isolating communities. Dan suggested we take his father’s 4X4 and armed us with emergency equipment. Hearts in mouths we hit the road, across to Wales. The Green Brute gave us a tremendous sense of security in a foggy land of white with snow banked up around us. Thanks to the invaluable help of Sat-Nav we were freed of navigational disputes and covered the journey to Hereford ahead of our schedule. We marked time in the warmth of a Tesco until Pippa returned from school. We spent two nights with her as the ties of friendship between our mothers cemented lasting childhood bonds between the Howman sisters, Pippa and her brother Charles.
Lea, Leecy & Pippa with “PD”, the deaf old dog who kept us entertained almost beyond sanity.... with toe-nails clicking on the wooden floors like castanets!Moving south to Devizes we spent an amazing two nights in the servant quarters of “Broadleas“– Not below stairs but tucked away at the back of the mansion. Our bedroom with interconnecting doors overlooked a delightful walled fruit and vegetable garden within the magnificent estate of the Late Lady Anne Cowdray. Leecy’s friend from school days – Lesley arrived from Zimbabwe last year, to care for Lady Anne in what proved to be the final three months of her life. Lesley and her husband Peter have stayed on as a “presence” renting their section, while the Estate is wound up. We felt as if we had fallen into a Charlotte Bronte story in the likes of Jane Eyre. Overly narrow winding staircases, not only creaky but well worn over the centuries by staff feet, required special care in negotiating. The warren of inter-leading levels led down to the heart of the main house - the kitchen. From there, the grandeur of the main house symmetrically spread out. Lesley took us on a guided tour, beginning down in the cellars – a chilly plethora of rooms, recently cleared out sent our imaginations in riotous directions that Lea nipped up the steep wooden steps, turned off lights as she closed the door plunging the two friends into fearful darkness. This caused a major tour delay as Leecy and Les required a massive dose of calming fluid back in the kitchen.
Equilibrium restored, we peeped into the many living rooms before ascending the sweeping staircase to find elegant bedrooms ready for guests, as if the beat of life hadn’t changed! In the “children’s wing” we could not only hear but feel the intense vibrations of a band in practice taking place below in the old schoolroom. Opening that door to a deafening intensity of sound, we found the Estate Horticulturist’s son and friends in oblivious Nevada...
It was the odd piece of paper attached to an item with a name scrawled upon it or boxes stacked within a room in unexpected disarray that signalled the sadness of a life no longer lived, as sentiments were sorted and a history packed away or sold.
Over thirty years since Leecy last saw Les so they had much to chat over. While George and Peter discovered they had much in common that beers were cracked and they talked themselves out very happily.... Leaving Leecy to enjoy reminiscing time with Les and Peter Grieve – we used Sat-Nav to take us to Bradford-on-Avon, where we caught up with Di and Theo Bingham. We first met them in Kariba when they were up from Bulawayo staying with Di’s sister, Jean Junor. Reacquainted in 1976 the Bingham, Junor and Begg families holidayed together in Port Alfred, our friendship strengthened and in time our Rhodesian fates had us all end up helping and supporting each other from homes in close proximity to each other in Durban North. It was good to find these two well settled and in fine fettle after torrid times in which both battled cancer. Our conversations raced in different directions throughout the day yet entrenched in our memory now lies Theo’s job as an odour detector in a company that analyses air quality. His mid seventy year old nose has become a valuable asset.
Theo and Di took us for a pub-lunch at ‘The Canal Inn’ overlooking locks, iced up water and narrow- boats that looked far from inviting in winter! A close eye had to be kept on the clock to stay on schedule simply because it was extremely difficult to drag ourselves away from the pleasure of old friendships. Sat-Nav took us on to Devon and the little village of East Budleigh where the “voice” said we’d reached destination yet we could see no sign “Penlees”. Voice “recalculating” began irritating as we searched one narrow lane after another making manoeuvring in The Brute very tricky. And, just as George was about to throw toys out of his cot, the sign was spied, hidden in an overgrown hedge. Chez Cousin Roger! Decades have passed since we spent quality time with Roger and he took time off work to ensure this time round would be even better...
No sooner out of the car than we were tramping across fields, hills and dales of England’s ‘pleasant land’ to have a pub lunch in Otterton.
On foot, we were to enjoy many pleasurable hours with Roger as he explained or added snippets of history to an area he has spent a good part of his life in. Favourite galleries- one set within an old fashioned flour mills were added to the agenda and we also joined a large fraternity of twitchers in a bird hide on the Clyst estuary. Not sure which was the most interesting to observe - the water fowl or the twitchers? Taking Goats walk into the picturesque village of Topsham we found many inspiring views as prospective subjects for Leecy and George to paint – these set their cameras off, clicking madly!
Roger, a most knowledgeable hostelry man took us to dinner in Woodbury pub for our last night.Sacrilege! Roger had Bananagrams! We were stunned to discover it was an unused Christmas present from a previous year. Despite the late hour we insisted on teaching him to play in retaliation for the tiny Q20 machine he’d introduced us to the previous evening, which had astounded us with its astuteness.
We took leave of Roger as soon as breakfast was over and made our way through rain and fog to have a quick hour in Yeovil with our friends Chris and Moira Carver (ex Kariba BSAP) before joining Cousin Nicholas and wife Sue Howman for lunch in their delightful ‘Old Mill’ home, in the little village of Queen Camel, just outside Yeovil. In the past when we have been near Yeovil we have always sprung a surprise on the Carvers, knocking on their door. This time round Lea had phoned and e-mailed our plans a week ahead... So much for that! On ringing the bell, Moira opened the door curiously puzzled followed by an expression of aghast, as the penny dropped. Chris had to be recalled home. As a result of this little upset we forgot to record the visit on camera.
Nick and Sue were ready and waiting! This fleeting visit wasn’t long enough... as we reluctantly dragged ourselves from wonderful old photo albums Nick pulled out, as we needed to reach Reading before dark. The marvels of Sat-Nav had us pull into Tanners Farmhouse on the expected hour to find cousin Jeremy waiting to settle us into our rooms before his wife Heather arrived home from a day in London, minutes later. A master of organisation, Heather slipped into her natural role of hostess and our finely tuned two days slipped by effortlessly as we celebrated the engagements of their younger sons Tim and Nick; showed Keith’s film Honey Hunters of Niassa; walked dogs across the melting snow fields and talked and talked.
Jeremy & Heather Spencer with two, of the many relatives from all over the world, who gather in the comfort zone of Tanners Farmhouse.Taking the M25 on the south side of London we turned up in time for lunch with our eldest English cousin Anthea in her snug little home in Whitstable. George, always wary of the icy Siberian winds that blow around here, happily turned to his computer while the women togged up and set off for a walking tour of Whitstable. History unfolded when our passionate, registered Blue Guide Anthea took Leecy and Lea on marvellous walkabouts of her little seaside village and nearby Canterbury. Yet, the absolute highlight of our visit with her turned out to be an arrangement she had made to briefly pop into Kent College where the three Bourdillon sons were practicing for a forthcoming gig! On checking we were in the right place, peeping through a glass panel in the door we promptly recognised Paul and Anton. Last seen at Justine and Dan’s wedding, with mother Jenny, when the three had performed the marimba based music for the church service. Recognizable was Jono although more years had passed since he’d been seen in his grandparent’s garden. The other unexpected face was strangely familiar and as soon as we were introduced to Trevor, Lea knew he was Cousin Penny Mill’s youngest son. Meeting Paul’s equally talented wife Karen for the first time completed the quintet. Although we soon picked up that Penny’s eldest son Martin is part of the band too. The next generation of Zimbabwean cousins, scattered around England working in their respective jobs yet coming together whenever they can to do what they do best - make music! We were absolutely enchanted and didn’t want them to ever stop but they needed a break. Amazing people giving us a very special experience.
Recording the joyous meeting with the band “Dhindhindi”From left to right:- Lea, Anton, Jono, Anthea, Karen and George.
Leecy, Paul and Trevor in the foreground
On the homeward run we turned off to Norfolk, as Leecy had never been to the county of our ancestors and we were keen to show her the places where our parent’s ashes were scattered. We arrived in Southrepps over the lunch hour and decided to find a bite to eat in the local pub – only to find their kitchens closed. The inn-keeper sent us through to Northrepps where we found that little pub inundated with people. Never the less, a most obliging couple fitted us into a corner until we could be made more comfortable. As the clock moved round we decided we’d best have the roast of the day and find a B& B for the night rather than be pushed for time. Again, our hosts went out of their way to advise us of suitable accommodation and we finally settled on a Farm- Stay, a mere stones throw away which they kindly arranged - impressive service. Well into the afternoon, our fine lunch consumed, we made for Southrepps Hall and were somewhat stunned to find a row of cars parked outside the manor house. Hovering at the gateway wondering what to do next, the front door opened and an elderly figure beckon us down the driveway. We were somewhat startled to find a stranger and a priest meet us at the door but we were soon assured a luncheon party was almost over. Reluctant to intrude we decided to take Leecy on the walk down Southern Rhodesia Avenue and round to the replica Cecil Square Garden only to be summoned into the dining room. Leecy, overcome with emotion, was only too happy as we made a quick exit to catch the last of decent light, with promises to return for coffee.
Two sisters in a quiet moment of reflection, beside the tree planted for our pioneering grandfather EG Howman at the foot of which lie the headstones to the memory of our parents Roger and Stella. At last, all four daughters have visited this place of rest. 
Shoes soaked through, feeling pretty chilled we happily returned for a coffee in Southrepps Hall with our dear most robust and hospitable Peter and the frail remnants of the vivacious Eve Sladden. She charmingly perked up for this photo when her husband aroused her with his pet name “Egglet” We retraced the byways to Northrepps and easily found the really delightful B&B we had been booked into - “Shrublands”. What a wonderful place to totally relax and bring to an end, our jaunt around England, with Leecy. We begged a late lie-in and slept in deep comfort before arising to a marvellous breakfast – quite the finest any of us could recall from our days tripping around British B&B’s. With no pressure we set off for home going via Salle.
We introduced Leecy to Salle Church wherein lies the remains of Howman ancestors. Amongst whom, was Rev. Roger Howman, a rector here in 1637. We fittingly scattered the ashes of his name sake, our dad along with our mum, beneath the oak tree engulfed in a Holly bush on the far right of this photo and directly opposite the chancel inside which is Rev. Roger’s tombstone.
We end this blog on the 28 January as our wonderful six weeks with Leecy drew to a close. She returned to London for her flight back to Australia two days later. Before we put her on the train we had a birthday lunch for Lea in Val’s Café, Cleethorpes. Thankfully, little time to dwell on Lea’s new status as an OAP, as we busily prepared for a departure to France next day.
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