A fry up, a sweet shop and a stately home

For all my love of Spain, and it is true, true love, this past weekend I became an English stereotype. A fry up, an old fashioned sweet shop, and an English stately home! I did try to keep the Spanish vibe going by eating at Barceloneta for tapas (awesome food BTW). But it was in vain. The heavy winter coat, the umbrella and sensible shoes needed to get there because of ALL the rain, meant that it was a bit of a stretch.

And so with the central heating back on, we embraced the English spring. We reverted to type on Saturday morning and went café visiting. I had purposefully not eaten breakfast at home in the hope that I might seek out some nice carrot cake. But it was Mr D’s choice of café this weekend and he decided on Louisa’s Place, whereupon a quick scan of the menu meant out with the carrot cake and in with the full English! Now, controversially, I don’t love bacon as part of a full English, but swapping that out for sausage was not a problem. The plate arrived with four, yes four, delicious looking bangers. There’d be no chance I could eat them all.

Or was there…?

As we sat enjoying our very delicious and wonderfully English Saturday morning food, we drew up a list of errands. Top of the list was finding somewhere that sold Chewy Nuts. (For a gift, not just for giggles). For the uninitiated, Chewy Nuts, wait for it, ARE NOT NUTS!

These retro English sweets are a small lump of chewy toffee caramel covered in milk chocolate. Wild, I know! We unsuccessfully tried a couple of places including a big supermarket, where, and I swear this is verbatim, Mr D asked the 20-something male shop assistant, ‘Have you got chewy nuts, mate?’. I’m not sure who was more mortified.

You’ll be relieved to know that ‘Sweet Sisters’, the lovely old fashioned English sweet shop in my home town came to the rescue. The shop assistant there knew exactly where to find her chewy nuts.

To wrap up this English of English weekends, I ventured just four short miles down the road to a tour of Stanford Hall and gardens. It was 500 years of history on my doorstep that blew my mind! Who knew that this amazing, still-lived-in, private stately home, has been in the same family for all those years. In a new take on upstairs, downstairs, the family live in the basement and the public get to explore the upper floors. It is however, only open a few days a year, and there’s absolutely no photos allowed to be taken inside as it’s still a private residence. Totally understandable, but equally a shame that the story of the house and its history can’t be shared a little bit easier, to many more people. It has a library of thousands of old books (swoon); the walls are covered in paintings of former kings, lords and ladies; and the site itself is home to where Percy Pilcher (the first British aviation pioneer) lost his life in his flight demonstration of 1899. Interesting stuff!

Driving home I considered how I’ve lived in the vicinity of Stanford Hall for most of my life, and I didn’t know the first thing about it. Shame on me. It was a reminder that you don’t need to travel half way around the world to visit great places with great history when there’s plenty on the doorstep. Having said that, I went home to pack my suitcase as I’m off on my travels again this week (and I’m not even sorry) because for all of the beauty, the history and geography, it’s April and in England it’s still chucking it down and the heating is on full.