Saturday November 13th was Casey's birthday. We rose fairly early for breakfast in bed, which broke our standard diet to include bagels and tomatoes and bananas and biscuits and tea (and teaffee, Casey's new bizarre beverage, the name of which explains it all) and juice. Then we caught a train in to Colchester, the neighboring town (probably roughly the same size as Petaluma, though far less nice). We headed straight to the local Castle, which was a powerful piece of Norman construction, William the Conquerors biggest keep, as well as Britains Capital under the Romans, and a place ravaged by the famous warrior princess Boedicea (think Bianca Bisson but a tiny bit more vicious, if that is possible). The castle is a place swimming in history, with a cool historical museum inside (complete with a warhammer bedecked scaled model of the town in Roman times) and sprawling public gardens outside. In the gardens we had a picnic lunch (pork pies!) and watched the local teenagers and the local squirrels play nearby (we liked the squirrels a lot more actually, and they seemed a lot happier). After our picnic we went to the local movie theater and saw Due Date, which was absolutely HILARIOUS ("What are you, a girl or something?") and was a fun treat since we haven't watched a movie in ages and both love to do so. Then we rode back to Thorpe, where we went out to the local Indian restaurant for an incredible (my mouth still waters at the though, days later) meal of chicken and lamb tikka, mushroom rice and, of course, popadoms. After the meal the owner found out it was Casey's birthday and ordered us over to the bar for some free drinks and a talk about his upcoming move to America. We talked to Habib for hours. He is a fantastic guy, and we will be spending more time over the next few days at the Prince of India, in his company. We walked back to our home (a massive resort, it is still hard to believe we live there) down the long oak-lined avenue, leaping over puddles in the pitch darkness as hurricane force winds tore past. We went up to our room for a final treat of chocolate cake and ice cream, and then sleep even richer than the cake which preceded it. Despite fairly low expectations (Thorpe is not exactly the dream place for your birthday) the day was utterly enjoyable and utterly memorable.
Sunday we woke late, and went outside to find the whole site and gardens utterly deserted, as they had never been since we arrived. So we wandered around the gardens, for the first time just for enjoyment and not for work, and it was a beautiful (though grey) morning, with birds singing and the garden looking excellent. The whole place is expertly designed and laid out, and the paths meander through its avenues, some wild, others organized, but all delightful. It was an excellent way to start the morning. The day that followed was a leisurely one, as Sundays really should be, that consisted mostly of getting caught up on correspondence, travel planning, and blogging, as well as an utterly useless trip into Clacton and several cups of tea.