So, where were we?

Ah yes, Herefordshire, in the B&B with character.

“Where can we get something to eat?” Seemed like a reasonable question since we appeared to be in the middle of absolutely nowhere and by this time we were starving. You can only survive for so long on Pringles and Maltesers, you know.

We were dispatched off to the nearest pub with instructions to mention our host’s name if it was busy and no tables were available. “After all, there’s no point me sending people there if they aren’t going to accommodate them, is there? It has to be recriprocal.” I wasn’t too sure where the reciprocity fit in with the scheme of things but I wasn’t going to argue.

Off we popped to the pub which was fairly busy and involved a wait for a table.  While we waited we ordered a nice grassy sauvignon blanc and sat outside in the courtyard with it. Boofuls pointed out that we, as total strangers, had walked into the pub, got a bottle of wine and walked out without paying for or leaving any means of paying for it and no one had even bat an eyelid. Wow!   That wouldn’t happen at home.  I think I like it here. It’s a bit like stepping back 30 years to a time when people still had faith in human nature.  Anyway, before I get all maudlin….

The food was mag-bloody-nificent!!!  How I wished I could have squeezed in a pudding as well because I’m certain it would have been delightful. They came out of the kitchen looking like works of art, all spun sugar and delicate dustings of icing sugar.  Ah, those were the days, when I could eat a full meal and then go back for seconds or even thirds.  How ironic that I eat less than I’ve ever done and yet I still get fatter by the minute.

As it was we made our way back to the B&b and went straight to bed as we were both exhausted after our journey. Boofuls was asleep within seconds – and so began the snore fest.  Oh. Dear. Lord.

Just in case you don’t know, and as I’ve recently discovered,  it’s far harder to get someone in a separate bed to shut up snoring than it is when they are right next to you in the same bed.  Another thing that you may not know is that “SHUT THE FOOK UP!!!” just isn’t effective when delivered across the room and in a stage whisper to avoid waking a house full of strangers. You should try it sometime.

Mercifully, morning arrived and put me out of my misery. The bats went to bed and Boofuls got up. I lay in my bed comatose for a while to trying to cram eight hours of sleep into thirty minutes. Eventually I got my act together and began to look forward to the day ahead.

We headed downstairs for breakfast. While we waited for our fellow diners to arrive, a couple who were attending the wedding as guests, we took stock of our surroundings. Heavy, dark wooden furniture, huge, faded overstuffed sofas and rugs that had faded to to colour of the stone floors they covered.  There were pictures in frames of all shapes, sizes and era’s  hanging at jaunty angles from every wall. Strangely though it seemed like the everything, walls included had morphed into exactly the same shade of grey over the years which  gave it a soft and comforting look. However, by far the the most striking feature in the place was the sheer amount of stuff. There was stuff everywhere. I’m not  a big fan of stuff and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much of it in one place.  What I wouldn’t have given for a couple of spare days and a convoy of skips.

Breakfast over (less said the better, I think), we headed off to do a recce of where we were due to be working.

First stop: The village hall. As we went in a buxom woman’s face lit up and she bustled over to us, arms outstretched  and lips puckered.  “Helllooooo.”


Years of training and my lightning quick reactions had me respond in my usual manner to ward of total strangers heading in for a kiss and a hug – I extended my right arm to it’s full length to shake her hand and quickly sidestepped her pucker. “Hello, we’re the photographers.”  Quickly realising her faux pas she released the pucker and dropped her arms a bit sharpish. Phew! That was a close one!

Nothing much of interest going on there so we set off for the church.  Now when I say church what I really mean is ‘secret, expertly  hidden down off a country lane and no chance of stumbling on it by accident’, church. It was however very beautiful and we took advantage of all the spare time we had to do shots of it and the flowers.  I love having time to play with, it takes so much pressure off.

Next stop. Rapunzel’s Tower.  The b&g were spending their wedding night in a tower, in a lake accessed by a drawbridge. We’d been asked to take photos of it (the tower, not the wedding night. Eeeewwww)  and I’m so pleased we were. It was magical.  No, you can’t see photos of it. Not till the b & g have seen them.  It will be worth the wait though.

Ok, Time to stop chuffing about and get on with some work. The accountant is still waiting for my accounts and I’ve  a ton of album work to do so I’ll be on my computer today till my eyeballs bleed.

Back with more tales of the weekend later.


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