Lead up to Christmas day

23 December

We had nothing on the agenda so spent the two days before Christmas around Ashtead.  On the 23rd, we ventured into Epsom, home of Epsom Downs racetrack and the famous Epsom salts – not a joke. It’s quite a small town and the high street is a bit down at the heels, but there is thriving mall that contains the usual suspects and two grocery stores. Finally, I found a Waitrose!  

There was a small shopping areal called the Spread Eagle Mall – I have to wonder who thought this was a good name.

Passed another store with a great name. I can just imagine the advert.

This trip is our Christmas present, but I really wanted to get a little something for Bruce, so I went to Waterstone’s to try to find a book on the history of British pubs.  No luck, but I did find a guide to pub walks in Surrey, our current location.  I also picked up a box of Belgium chocolates at M&S. 

M&S has grocery stores, clothing & store that have both food and clothing/home stores.  I thought that our host had said that the M&S in Epsom was a food store, but to my surprise it’s a combination store. I saw a flash of poppy color on the rack & went to investigate.  Could it be? OMG - yes! My poppy coat! In my size! It’s a Christmas miracle!

Back to the food side for some groceries and off to the little outdoor market.  There was quite a mix of stalls. The centerpiece was a gigantic truck selling meat, with a very large man with a very large voice (and a Madonna microphone) hawking his wares.  “Steak, steak, steak, steak, steak – who doesn’t love steak?”  There were flowers, Greek specialties, Scottish cashmere sweaters, used clothes, lots of food stands and a collection of topiary creatures.

I bought some kalamata olives then went to the bus shelter to wait for the 2:15. 2:15 passed, as did 2:30. I assumed that the bus had been cancelled and resigned myself to waiting for the 2:45. At about 2:40, the #479 arrived.  About 2 minutes later, the 2:45 bus arrived.  The first bus driver took the bus out of service and sent everyone to the second bus.  The second bus driver exited the bus & locked the door.  A few minutes later, the new bus driver got in the bus and drove ahead about 30 feet, leaving everyone at the stop behind.  We all traipsed over to the new location and about 10 minutes later were allowed to board. A few stops later a rather frail older gentleman got on the bus.  He sneered at the kid who was occupying the handicapped seat and shuffled down the aisle.  He asked if he could sit with me.  I, of course, said yes. It turns out he had just been released from hospital and was on his way home. We chatted a bit about Ashtead. He had that wonderful British attitude of disdain and disapproval I discovered, when I asked him what I should see in Ashtead. As the bus drove down the road, he pointed to a road and said, “That road goes to the train station.  That road goes past the new houses – very large and vulgar.”  I wished him good health in the New Year and he looked at me like I was an idiot American.  I love England.

24 December

It bears mentioning that England is a Christian nation, the monarch being the head of the Church of England. Consequently, there are few trains on Christmas eve and none on Christmas Day.  We decided to walk in the Ashtead Common, a nature reserve, just across the railroad tracks from our house. It has rained quite a bit in the last few weeks and that made the fields quite muddy and, at some points, completely impassable.

We slogged through some bits, found paved paths through others and ended up at the Jolly Coopers pub. Along the way, I noted the beautiful natural fences. They served the purpose, but blended so well into the landscape.

I finally had the requisite mulled wine at the pub, Bruce had a pint, then we found a different path back, passing those “vulgar houses” and a touching memorial to victims of COVID.

In little Ashtead village, someone had made a crocheted mail topper in the shape of a Christmas train.

We made it home in time for Christmas eve telly.