The Christmas you get, you deserve....part 2

Hi and sorry for the delay in part two. One of the obvious things you have to contend with when travelling to and from countries like the UK and Indonesia, is the difference in temperature. This has resulted in a cold that just won't seem to go away but, I've "manned up" and worked through it and here comes part 2...

You left me at the end of part one being picked up at Northallerton train station in the wintery wilds of North Yorkshire. Northallerton is a quaint market town, north of York but south of Darlington and it is on the main east coast rail line between Newcastle and Kings Cross in London. It is home to the Friarage hospital where Dad is having his chemotherapy, has a deli store called Lewis and Coopers with a range of English foodstuffs that are so delicious (and unavailable in Indonesia), I wish I could transport brick-by-brick and bottle-by-bottle to Tangerang with me. It also also has a "Betty's Tearoom", an

English institution. It's worth pointing out that the train station is a good 5 to 10 minutes walk from town and has no indoor waiting room,  but more about Northallerton later.

 Arriving in Leyburn is always something of an experience. It has a nostalgia for me, but not like with most family homes. This hasn't actually been a house I've lived in for any length of time. I was born in Bedford, a town 50 miles or so north of London. Left the two houses we lived in there when I was 7 years old and moved to Catterick Village (coincidentally about 15 miles from where my parents live now). Leaving there when I was 15 to move to Bishopthorpe a village outside York, I eventually left home when I was 19 to strike out on my own. In the following years my parents continued to live in Bishopthorpe before moving to Redmire, a village near Leyburn to run a pub and then, after retiring, settled at 51 Dale Grove, Leyburn.

The nostalgia for me comes from my mothers housekeeping. The house, as far back as I can remember, has always been impeccably decorated, especially at Christmas with all of the extras. I guess my mum always had a talent for interior design. And bugger anyone else doing the decorating, it was always a family thing (I remember as a young teenager getting the job of painting the eaves of the house in Bishopthorpe cause dad wasn't overkeen on heights). So, driving into Dale Grove, facing the house at the far end of the street, I was curious to see what the Christmas decorations would look like and that was the picture at the end of part one. Silver tree, lights, tinsel, baubles.......and meerkat.

Back in my childhood, it was quite common at Christmas to open the fridge door and find a stuffed robin (the bird, not Batman's sidekick) perched on the cheese, or bound to the toilet flush handle, or sat on a picture ledge....it moved you see (ah, the magic of Christmas). Over the years the concept moved on to the singing Billy Bass fish and other animal oddities. This year has seen dad completely taken over by an advert/tv commercial called "Compare The Market Dot Com" whose USP is a Russian meerkat .......oh look, this is too confusing, just visit compare the meerkat on youtube and you'll see what I mean . At least that explained the meerkat....

My brother Glen had arrived a few days before and tonight, being Christmas Eve, we would head for The Sandpiper Restaurant, a gastro-pub/fine dining restaurant in Leyburn owned and run by family friends the Harrison family. So with just enough time to have a catch-up chat, drink a cup of tea and get a bath, we were on our way out for our 7pm reservation. But not before I had added a jacket, scarf and  thick coat to my evenings clothing ensemble.

A starter of black pudding and belly pork was followed by venison and, forgoing desert, a coffee. The red wine washed down the excellent local beers and we sat and reminisced over just how long it had been since the four of us had been together at Christmas. A great night. Later, back at home, Glen and mum went to bed leaving Dad and I to sit up and chat about life the universe and everything really. To do this we thought it would be a good idea to have a polite "short" while doing so. Dad's choice was an aged port, mine Makers Mark bourbon.........The following morning Dad's scarred nose from where he'd fallen over and stories of my drunken sleepwalking and nonsensical mutterings were proof that we'd probably overdone it. Still, great memories.

Christmas Day has always been a great morning and this year the plan was for a late brunch with champagne and eating the main Christmas dinner at about 5pm. John and Jan Harrison and their three daughters, Chloe, Megan and Rosie had been invited to join us but as the restaurant was open it meant we'd be eating later. So we busied ourselves with opening presents.

 

I should really have taken photos of the Christmas dinner table as it was so wonderfully set up in the conservatory but let me just tell you that the goose was delicious, the belly pork was a great addition and the array of vegetables, sauces, wine and beer were excellent and, as with all good family Christmases, it was finished by playing games and singing songs to everyone's delight and at times embarrassment

part 3 soon, I promise....