I seem to have spent the last week or two traversing South and Mid England and am getting a bit fed up with it. My own fault, I allowed events to get squashed up into a three week period with no break in between. Sometimes it is unavoidable.
I will be driving to London in an hour or two and so thought I would drop in here and write something so that you all know I am alive if operating a tad feebly at the moment. I have read a couple of Hazel Holt books, cosy 
mysteries set in an English village, and really enjoyed them. More of that anon but what I am really pleased about is that Bill Bryson is to revisit his travels in England that he wrote about in Notes from a Small Island. This new book is called The Road to Little Dribbling and is published later this year and I simply cannot wait to read it. I love his travel writing, witty and humorous but written with a true love of the country and places he is exploring.
I am currently re-reading the original Notes from a Small Island and spent most of last evening trying not to snort, snigger and guffaw as I started the book, but it was almost impossible not to. This kind of discussion is one all us Brits are familiar with:
"Eventually when all the intricacies of B roads, contraflow black spots and good places to get bacon sandwiches have been discussed so thoroughly that your ears have begun to seep blood, one member of the party will turn to you and ask idly over a sip of beer when you were thinking of setting off…….'about ten I suppose'
Ten o'clock??? one will say. He will make a face like someone who has taken a cricket ball in his scrotum….'well it is up to you of course but If I was planning to be in Cornwall tomorrow, I would have left yesterday'
'Yesterday??' someone else will say 'I think you're forgetting that it is half term in North Wiltshire this week and it will be murder between Swindon and Warminster. No you want to have left last Tuesday…..
and so it goes on.
Every page of this book is sheer delight and the old copy I have has a quote on the front ' Not a book that should be read in public for fear of emitting loud snorts'. I read this when I was commuting to London and ended up reducing all my fellow passengers near me to tears of mirth as I howled with laughter and they all caught the bug too. Best journey I ever had.
If you have yet to read this masterpiece of a book then please do do. I shall be in the queue for the new one.
Note: have just seen that the quote I have used above is also used in this link in the Guardian!
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