I met a fellow BDer!!

[Macalaure]

Originally Posted by Fea

On a more (or is that less?) serious note, I'm just dying to find out what Mac thinks of us all.

You're all morons you are.

Originally Posted by Fea

Five bucks says he expected me to be taller.

Neither of you is particularly tall from my perspective.


I have to say I was much less nervous this time than over Skype the last time, though that didn't really translate in me being more talkative. The were-duckling took a long time to warm up, too, until she found a new bestest friend in Fea.

Lari summed up the day pretty well. Us being late, gorgeous gorge, Rikae slightly panicky about falling rocks and me leaning over, almost free lunch, running up and down hills for the sheer fun of it, and yummy ice cream.

I can't understand why everyone is complaining about climbing that tiny hill. What's more fun than to walk up 50 meters of altitude difference absolutely futilely? I, of course, only lagged behind to keep Rikae company.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Originally Posted by Macalaure

The were-duckling took a long time to warm up, too, until she found a new bestest friend in Fea.

We're buddies.

[Mirandir]

Originally Posted by Macalaure

You're all morons you are.

Ouchie...

Rikae, Mac's being mean to us!

[Lariren Shadow]

Originally Posted by Macalaure

You're all morons you are.

I second Mira!

Neither of you is particularly tall from my perspective.

Well I'm sorry none of us is as tall as you! And I'll have you know I'm the tallest of all us at Elmira!

I can't understand why everyone is complaining about climbing that tiny hill. What's more fun than to walk up 50 meters of altitude difference absolutely futilely? I, of course, only lagged behind to keep Rikae company.

Ok so it wasn't that bad for me. And I mean that in all truth. It was the cemetery. And that it was hot. And of course that was the only reason you were behind us.

[Lush]

The Squatter and I have finally and officially (with all sorts of important paperwork having been filled out...not really) met!

I was in Scotland & Liverpool last week, and took the train down to the South, and ended up spending a lovely weekend at Squa's, who was the perfect host, and even allowed me to let my inner Grace Kelly loose when we traveled the appropriately lush countryside in his awesome car with the roof down.

We got extremely lucky with the weather, and went all the way up to the Glastonbury Tor! We also visited the local Abbey, where, supposedly, Arthur's tomb was found by monks. Both the Tor and the Abbey are places of power, and you feel it, if you're open to that sort of thing or - especially, like me - writing a book that concerns related themes of magic and mystery and lots of pretty grass.

Squa also took me to see some of the English coast, and introduced me to a drink called port. We talked incessantly for three days and never ran out of things to say to each other, which does, I think, show that not only are we awesome people (if, perhaps, old, dry and dessicated members of the Downs), but that our friendship can exist just as well outside the (green and gorgeous) digital world.

I just want to thank Squa for his generous hospitality, the use of his couch, the toast in the morning (I am one of those airy, irresponsible people, incapable of making herself breakfast, usually relying on Boyfriend for that sort of thing) and all the conversation - and the tour of his library which, I believe, ought to make any Tolkien fan weep. Or drool. Or something.

Pictures are available from my site for your viewing pleasure!

This is Squa considering the distance left to the Tor:

http://nataliaantonova.files.wordpre...9/05/d-tor.jpg

The Tor - how it is today up there.

http://nataliaantonova.files.wordpre...tor-proper.jpg

Squa and myself - persuaded by a nice lady to take off our sunglasses and stop playing it cool, so we can actually be seen:

http://nataliaantonova.files.wordpre...5/me-and-d.jpg

A thoughtful picture of Squa on Abbey grounds:

http://nataliaantonova.files.wordpre...05/d-abbey.jpg

And, finally, Arthur's possible grave, with Squa's shadow, a complex metaphor for... something:

http://nataliaantonova.files.wordpre.../05/arthur.jpg



I am back in London now, but I wish I was still down South, surrounded by Squa's atmosphere of fabulousness.

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

Sounds like a brilliant trip! I am very jealous!

I like Liverpool, never been to Scotland (but always wanted to). . . I also need to see more of the south, squatter and drink more port.

I should also drink more Porter! (danish stout)

It really looks like it was a great trip and leaves me (yet again) with a longing to cross the sea, oh to sail upon the dark rolling waves and explore new and strange coasts.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

What the Angband!?! Squatter without a trilby? Inconceivable! I thought it was stitched to his head.
Those are some almost Barrow Downsian hills you two were on. And there is absolutely NO chance I could misuse them to my own journalistic ends...

Anyway, that abbey looks cool! Must go to Bath at some point in my life. But I'm heading to Scotland later this month, which is the other side of the island. And I can't afford much travel. (Other than Oxonmoot, of course)

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

So funny story:

I saw that Hook's was the most recent post, and sleepily clicked the thread and started reading what it showed me.

I thought it a mite strange that Hooky liked to channel Grace Kelly not because such things tend to even strike my notice but because he's never spoken thusly before, so it seemed out of character.

It wasn't until I read that 'Boyfriend' typically makes 'him' breakfast that I had a quick crisis of inconsistency and looked at who'd actually composed the post.

In my head, ever more, dear Hook, you prefer toast for breakfast, and love cars with no tops.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Originally Posted by Feanor of the Peredhil

In my head, ever more, dear Hook, you prefer toast for breakfast, and love cars with no tops.

Funnily enough, due to a recent court order and a long standing medical condition, I'm not allowed to eat toast for breakfast or otherwise. And I prefer my cars to have no tops, bottoms or anything else. I like wheels. Unicycle love!

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

At ten to seven in the evening I was limping like a cripple up to the unsavoury rear entrance of Exmouth railway station, having woken up the previous day with an unexplained injury to my foot. This was a momentous moment: Lush and I have known each other since I joined this forum in 2002; we've taken part in the Yahoo Voice Chat readings that some of you may remember, and we were two of the worst offenders in the infamous Lupercalia thread. Sometimes, I even read her blog. We know all sorts of things about each other, but we'd never been in the same room. I was still getting used to the unfamiliar voice that I'd been speaking to on the phone belonging to someone with whom I've been exchanging e-mails and other communications for the best part of eight years. People look different in pictures; what if I didn't recognise her? Could I gloss over a faux pas of that magnitude?

The answers were respectively: I did, immediately; and of course I could, because I really am that charming. The train arrived just as I did, heralding a busy weekend.

Friday night was expended in catching up. I'm not the best person at keeping in touch, as other forum members will attest; and Lush has been a very busy girl over the last few years. After about an hour I suddenly remembered that I keep drinks in the flat, and that some people like to take in liquids sometimes. Out came the port and two utterly inappropriate glasses, my last port glass having gone the way of all flesh some time ago. I was not allowed to open the 1999 August Ziegler that I've been saving for a special occasion, although it will have to be drunk eventually. "This place looks like a museum," I was told appreciatively. I had to admit that I've put a lot of my personality into it. We accompanied the port with an exotic local delicacy: cod and chips twice. Where Lush lives, I discovered, they still serve it in newspaper, but here they have to use surgical grade sterile dressing paper because of health and safety. We managed to watch Tomkinson's Schooldays too, but only just. It's a long way down here from Liverpool, and everyone needs to sleep sometimes.

Saturday began late, which is just as well as I was the driver for our planned trip to Glastonbury. Somehow I cooked scrambled eggs, which I haven't tried to do in years (to be honest I'm still relieved that I didn't give another forum member food poisoning), and eventually we got going at about eleven. Lush may not think that she can pull off the Grace Kelly look, but I'm not so sure; given the right car, it could be a close-run thing. For some reason I parked miles outside town (I'd never been before) and it's a good thing that the sun was shining. Still, we got there in the end, climbed the tor, listened to some beatniks playing didgeridoos and took in the view, which is impressive. After having our photograph taken for our adoring public, we made our way back down the hill. I wasn't allowed to break my ankle (because Lush can't carry someone my size), so I didn't. At this point, Lush miraculously transformed into a damosel, so I took a picture.



We found our way to the abbey after a couple of false starts and had a wander in the grounds, discussing this and that. We saw a Benedictine monk, but I'd forgotten to charge my phone so there are no pictures of him. It's not easy to keep up with Lush in conversation, but by listening a lot I managed not to look completely witless. She has many interesting stories to tell, as befits someone who has lived in several countries and interviews photographers for a living. I filled in with interesting things that have happened to people I know. The sun continued to blaze down as though Somerset had realised that I wanted it to make a good impression; the trees were covered with clouds of blossom and all in all it was a perfect English spring afternoon, such as I'd usually have to invent. If Lush becomes rich, we may have tea and cucumber sandwiches on the lawn of a house we saw. By this point I realised that my foot had stopped hurting, and that my limp was gone; if not for all that walking I'd probably still be lame.

Saturday evening was spent in my favourite pub, and we ate on a balcony overlooking the sea. That sounds better than it was, because we were freezing when we adjourned inside; it is still May after all. Several rounds later we went back to the flat to sleep off all the walking.

Sunday was spent around Exmouth. Duty called for Lush, so I contented myself with making tea and being a distraction by reading out random things from Mallorn, Tolkien's letters and The English: are they Human (author's answer: no). Once the paying work was taken care of, we walked out to the marina, along the promenade and up onto the cliffs above Orcombe Point, where in my obsessive desire to document the whole visit in minute detail I took a second picture.



In answer to Hookbill, I did wear a hat for this, because I looked like a boiled lobster after Saturday's hiking. It kept blowing off and was a cause of great hilarity, so perhaps I should consider sewing them on. After supper, we took a turn along the beacon to see the houses of Lady Byron (her daughter was the first computer programmer, you know) and Lady Nelson (Exmouth was popular with the jilted wives of national figures), and finished up with an episode of Dad's Army (for afficionados, it was Time on my Hands). Apparently, them Germans make just about everything rather well.

On Monday (a public holiday, as luck would have it) there was just enough time for tea, toast and a bit more conversation before I saw Lush onto the train back to London. As so often when I meet other forumites, I wish we could have had a bit longer, and I certainly hope that it won't be another eight years before we meet again. I just hope that I can survive normality after that concentrated fabulousness.

[Lush]

HAHAHAHAHAHA - My fringe makes me look like a member of an 80's hair band in that last picture! Awesome!

What the Angband!?! Squatter without a trilby? Inconceivable! I thought it was stitched to his head.

It was unstitched for the purposes of driving with the roof down. Otherwise, I imagine it would have been claimed by nature.

It wasn't until I read that 'Boyfriend' typically makes 'him' breakfast that I had a quick crisis of inconsistency and looked at who'd actually composed the post.

I'm sure Boyfriend (who has since joined me in London, and turns 24 today) would love to cook Hook breakfast sometime. Assuming Hook likes eggie-in-the-basket and other delicacies.

Squatter hasn't aged a bit (must be pickled by all that port he consumes) and you look, well, if you want to go with Grace Kelly, so be it!

I think living at the seaside can keep you young - and since Squa doesn't go for irresponsible tanning (unlike, say, Donatella Versace), even more so. I had my Grace Kelly moment in the car, where you couldn't actually see my face (scarf + sunglasses). In real life, as the pictures can attest, I look more like my great Aunt Lina, short for Lenina - named after Vladimir Lenin.

But tell us, is he the least bit a driver like Mr. Bliss?

Nah, he's quite the pro - tight turns in country lanes and all. Having a cool car helps, but a cool car isn't everything. I think if I had a car like that, it would already be in a ditch somewhere, serving as a cozy home for a family of chipmunks.

I have to add that Squa also taught me all about gentlemanship (gentlemancy, gentlemanting, etc.) - quoting from an authoritative volume that states, for example, that no true gentleman has a Rolls Royce, unless it was given to him by an eccentric aunt and he keeps chickens in it.

So all you aspiring gentlemen - you know where it's at.

[Bêthberry]

Originally Posted by Lush

I am back in London now, but I wish I was still down South, surrounded by Squa's atmosphere of fabulousness.

Indeed, well might you speak of fabulous things!

Squatter hasn't aged a bit (must be pickled by all that port he consumes) and you look, well, if you want to go with Grace Kelly, so be it!

But tell us, is he the least bit a driver like Mr. Bliss?

[Elmo]

Where in Scotland did you go to?