South Downs Way, Day 8 continued, Room for Improvement

Our choice of accommodation was limited by the places that our baggage hauliers were prepared to call at. We paid roughly similar prices for all of them but met with a huge variety of facilities, space and even cleanliness.

One in an ancient half-timbered pub had very little sound-proofing. We could hear every word of the TV program our neighbours had chosen. 

They considerately switched off at ten at night, but the folks in the bar below continued until late. We both screwed in ear plugs and attempted sleep.

Once or twice in the night I was woken by a loud creak or bang that seemed to come from within the room itself. 

In the morning I said to Nigel, 

'It's possible this room is haunted, but the pub is so noisy in general that it's impossible to know. That banging could have been a cry for help from a very frustrated poltergeist.'

Very true,' 

'And did I hear our neighbours boiling their kettle just now?'

' Yes,' said Nigel. 'He's having coffee and she said she'd like tea.'

Queen's Head or Drunken Duck?

Back in the days when we had three tiny children under five, we stayed in the Lake District at Hawkshead, with a bunch of university friends.

A plan grew to go for a last-day lunch at the excellent Drunken Duck, nearby.

However, on seeing the prices, Nigel and I baled out. It would be too difficult to keep all three children in a good mood while we ate, and it was too much money to chance.

While our friends settled to their gourmet meal, we went to the lovely Queen’s Head in Hawkshead.

We ordered a pleasant lunch, including a salmon sandwich for Pascoe. He tucked in enthusiastically. We were sad to miss the farewell lunch with our friends. Might we have managed after all?

Then Pascoe began to scream. What was it? Had there been something in the salmon sandwich.

The answer was Yes – Pascoe’s hand. He had shoved the delicious sandwich into his mouth so vigorously that he had crunched down hard on his own fingers. If that isn’t an advert for the scrumminess of Queen’s Head’s food, what is? They were also very nice about the piercing screaming.

Years later, staying with Pascoe once more in Hawkshead on our mother-son trip, we returned to the excellent Queen’s Head and were not disappointed. But we were both haunted by our unfinished business at the Drunken Duck.

So we went.

The food was exquisite and the venue delightful, but best of all, when the substantial bill arrived, my kind son split it with me.

And not a single scream.