“Half memoir, half travel, A Yank Back to England...is an absolutely wonderful book, not only about going home again but also about love and family and tradition and the passage of the years.” —Michael Dirda, Pulitzer Prize-winning literary critic (Washington Post) To see the entire quote, click here.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Seeing pink in Lavenham
We went to Lavenham in pursuit of history and a betting shop. When we arrived we found a well-preserved town with streets of half-timbered houses dating from the early part of the sixteenth century. Frances loved it from the moment she saw it. There was no beach in sight but, I had to admit, good views could be enjoyed from any direction. We parked along the high street, then gently made our way around to the market square. Interestingly, not all of Lavenham’s Tudor half-frame buildings were starkly colored in black and white. We discovered a cream-and-apricot colored guild hall, musty ochre-colored houses, and bay-windowed shops awash in muted Suffolk pink. All were dramatically framed by black oak timbers interspersed with high-gabled windows, sloped and gracefully curved with age.
Standing, from L to R: Lew (Dad), Frances (Prodigal Wife), Denis (The Prodigal Tourist), and Jessie (Mum). Floating: Kate (Prodigal Daughter).
About this blog
You are reading random vignettes, deleted scenes, and other extras from and about my book, A Yank Back to England: The Prodigal Tourist Returns. Enjoy, let me know what you think, ask questions, and thanks for your support! Cheers, The Prodigal Tourist
Years ago I shed my Cockney accent and left London's blighted East End for America. Since then, I’ve only returned to see my increasingly cantankerous parents and assorted relatives. Until my American wife comes along. She wants to tour, see the sights. No thank you. It’s not for me. But she insists, and I become a reluctant tourist in my former homeland.