Walking across a castle tower, we peeked out from the battlements, watching the Arun river as it curved around the shadow of the castle before snaking out into the countryside beyond. About a hundred feet below us, we saw a graveled driveway that led to a private entrance to the castle. As if on cue, a raffishly muddied Land Rover pulled up and young blond children, a pretty blonde woman, and a tousle-haired fellow in a check shirt and crumpled corduroy trousers piled out. They all looked like models from an L.L Bean catalog. But as no photographer appeared, we concluded they might well be the current lord, his lady, and heirs apparent. We walked back inside, descended another staircase past more family portraits, and tried to look for a family resemblance. We found none, but we did find Jessie and Lew patiently waiting for us.
“Gasping for a cuppa tea, son,” said Lew.
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2 comments:
I wonder if the people in the Land Rover thought you were the Lord of the Castle and looked at the potraits to see if there was any family resemblance to your family. The Vintage Kitten curtseys to the Prodigal Tourist Hee Hee! X
You know, I've often wondered if I drove up to some National Trust property a green Land Rover while wearing a Barbour jacket whether people would think I was the lord of the manor. I think I now have my answer!
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