Kingston upon Thames

Given the trainer situation noticed in the previous post, off to Kingston to do something about it. Armed with a helpful, and more or less instant, reply to my email to the people at Cotswolds HQ. And carrying the trainers while wearing some old, but still decent shoes from Clarks, people from whom I used to buy nearly all my shoes, before my transfer of allegiance to trainers. But sadly, as I recall, another brand which was not quite what it was.

Travelled on the 406 bus from outside Wilko.

First stop, the post office mentioned at reference 1. With the lentil soup mentioned there having been topped up with some more potatoes and some soft noodles and finished off for lunch today.

Second stop, the parish church to take tea, to find that a much larger chunk of the church had been given over to this function than had been the case when I last visited, probably a small number of years ago now. The tea, entirely satisfactory, was served to the elaborate backdrop of a marble memorial from 1826 to one Henry Davidson. In which the church is showing a certain lack of respect, such as one finds in the corners of many of our cathedrals, with his heirs no doubt having paid good money both for the memorial and its place in the church.

We were joined by a befriender, or some such, one of a team of older ladies who engage with people who look like they need it. It turned out that she was from somewhere near the northern end of New York State, who had contracted a marriage on the strength of meeting someone at a Shakespeare summer school in Cambridge and who had retired to the UK. Partly because she came from a long way from Baltimore, where her husband came from, and they could not live near both sets of relatives. She knew almost as much about Watertown as we did (see reference 4) and consumed a lot of music and theatre in London, particularly Handel. But not much of the Rose Theatre, so much closer at hand. She also knew about the Shakespeare theatre in Stratford, Ontario, which we did not manage to get to in 2014. See, for example, reference 5.

Third stop, Cotswolds, where we were taken in hand by a couple of very helpful assistants. But not so helpful that they did not know that Merrels was now just a brand name belonging to Wolverine, as noticed at reference 2. But I was told that I walked very heavily on my heels and needed more support there in consequence. Then, noticing that my Moab Ventilators, while present in my size and colour, had slipped down to the bottom of the price range, and that most of the walking shoes on offer there cost more than £100 to their £85, I had a go with and settled for a pair of Meindls, despite their Gortex which I did not used to get on with. Maybe OK now that my feet are cooling down with the passage of time. The helpful assistants were very confident that paying more was a good idea.

In the event, I only had to pay the £20 difference, after deducting the price of my Merrells and some additional discount or other, perhaps to do with the National Trust, which I thought very decent of them. And we had a smart new paper carrier bag thrown in for good measure. In red.

But I was ticked off for returning shoes without properly scrubbing them, in contravention of the EC foot and mouth regulations for the safe movement of goods and produce. I was also told not to wear them home, as if I did not like them I would not be able to return them. Wear them around the house for a bit to make sure that they are OK. Which they are, and they are now being worn outside.

Fourth stop, the Polish café tucked inside the antiques market in Old London Road, opposite the old police station. Bigos for me and pierogi for  BH, this last described as Polish ravioli. All rather good.

Fifth stop, the cheese department at Waitrose, which still sells loose cheese and which still sells Lincolnshire Poacher, unlike their shop at Epsom. Shrink wrapped in one eighth truckles, but cheese nonetheless. A hopefully acceptable alternative to the Poacher bought from the truckle from the Neal's Yard people.

Sixth and last stop, upstairs to John Lewis to sort out a replacement for my suitcase from TK Maxx, masquerading as some fancy brand but actually a cheap imitation. Never really recovered from being bashed around and then left in a puddle or out in the rain, on the way to Ottawa. Settled for a large bright green affair, not adorned with all kinds of complicated straps and pockets, in fact little more than a large plastic shell with a couple of small wheels, perhaps a fitting successor to the Globetrotter suitcases I used to be fond of before their slide downhill and so into luxury shops in and around Piccadilly, for which last see reference 6. The new suitcase was John Lewis own brand and we thought it very reasonable at £100 or so.

Luckily our bus home, a cousin of the 406 we came on, was not too crowded.

PS: the lady from NYS was also able to tell us that while the Niagara Falls were frozen on top, they were up and running underneath. I had been wondering about all the water backing up behind them. Surely the whole lot hadn't frozen?

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/01/a-fat-opportunity.html.

Reference 2: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/trainers.html.

Reference 3: http://www.meindl.co.uk/. A company which originated before the second world war in Kirchanschöring, just this side of the border with Austria, just north of the alps.

Reference 4: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/watertown-bars.html.

Reference 5: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/part-two-of-three.html.

Reference 6: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/bells-of-bond-street.html.