Somewhere along that walk my hair tie slipped off my plait, and so for the 23km walk from Mildenhall to Bury St. Edmunds I spent half the time pushing my hair away from my face.
I got to the train station slightly earlier than the time we were meant to meet, and looked around for the Cambridge Rambling society. And then I realised I had no idea who was in the Cambridge Rambling society and what they were supposed to look like.
'Are you the Cambridge Ramblers?' I asked a group of studenty-looking people
'Sorry I'm Austrian I don't understand...'
'Nevermindit'sokaywronggroup' I hastily said, embarrassed, and scuttled away.
I did eventually find the Cambridge Rambling society (a good thing too, I was about to go up to a group of old men to ask if by any chance they were the ramblers) and after introducing myself and hearing their introductions we all got on a train and I listened to the guy next to me talk about how he had been a teacher and set up a charity and worked in the UN. I comforted myself with the fact that I know how to do a cartwheel and can make really good porridge.
The walking route was really muddy because it was drizzling, and the rain somehow managed to dribble its way in rivulets under my raincoat onto my arms and shoulders and back, giving me a little shivery surprise.
We passed by lots of sheep and cows and this shelter, as we followed the river. We stopped near a reconstructed Anglo-Saxon village for lunch. Everyone had sensibly packed sandwiches and fruit and snacks, and there was I with a big tupperware full of very cold napolitana and spinach rice.
I talked to a girl from Poland about spirits and exercise and medicine and saving the ocean. I talked to the teacher/charity/UN guy about what should be done about China and Hong Kong (he is from Hong Kong), but neither of us came to a reasonable conclusion. I spoke to the leader of the expedition who is a fellow at one of the colleges about languages and travel. One of the best things about rambling was the chance to speak to so many people, but also to have long stretches of silence where you just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, or looking at the scenery around you.
By the end of the trek, my calf muscles were so sore, and I was very wet, but so so glad I decided to wake up and do it. I stayed in Bury St Edmunds, picked up a top from Suffolk Age, berries and bananas from the market for Grandma, some marshmallows for Renny, and then met Auntie Sarah to go Waitrose shopping (3 cartons of organic oatly milk for 3 pounds!)
I peeled off my wet things in Grandma's house and got into some shapeless dry things, which are sometimes the best kinds of clothes.
We had very simple soup and quinoa and rice for dinner and then flopped onto the sofa, lay back, and closed out eyes.
I played 'Hollow in the Ferns' from the Far from the Madding Crowd soundtrack for Auntie Sarah and Grandma to listen to. Grandma said, after it ended: 'I see a swan, gliding along ... and I see a man heading home after work. He isn't thinking about his supper, he's just going home.' Sometimes I wonder if Grandma has some sort of synaesthesia, because she has such a fascination with colour, and music gives her such vivid visions.
Then we listened to Beethoven's 7th symphony (I think) and Grandma and Auntie Sarah danced and air conducted and contorted their faces to fit the very dramatic music. I was in stitches videoing them. Auntie Sarah ended up skipping through the kitchen, and Grandma looked as if she was conducting the Viennese Philharmonic Orchestra from the red faux-leather sofa.
The next morning I planned to make cacao-banana nice cream for Auntie Sarah and myself, although Grandma stuck to her porridge and prunes.
Unfortunately, the blender wasn't working.
And that is how I ended up 'blending' about 10 frozen bananas using Grandma's non-electronic, human hand operated hand mixer. (It looked like this if anyone cannot fathom what a non-electric human hand operated hand mixer looks like) It did work, although by the time I had got everything fairly smooth it was more of a cross between a smoothie and nice cream than nice cream itself. But with some raspberries and strawberries on top, it was delicious.
Sunday was also Remembrance Day, where the soldiers of the wars are honoured. Auntie Sarah had bought us some poppies the night before, but we couldn't find the pins to wear them in the parade. I was just sitting onto the toilet when 'BANG CRASH DRRRR-RRR-UM!' the Remembrance Parade began at the fire station outside Grandma's house - it made me jump!
We all tumbled out of the house in various states of preparedness - coats half on, hair unbrushed, cacao-banana smoothie/nice cream half eaten - and followed behind as the band played 'When the saints go marching'. We marched behind all the way to the church, where Cnnie and Renny refused to go in, and so we stood outside in the cold for the 2 minutes of silence, which Grandma counted out loud.
Then we went back to finish our breakfasts, and I got ready to get back to Cambridge. On the drive back, Auntie Sarah and I talked about natural beauty products (my current obsession is coconut oil) and how Connie has started wearing mascara to school.
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