Hassocks: THE RETURN

Upon the request of my two loyal fans, I have decided that I really do need to provide an update of my time in Hassocks, England with my relatives.  I have two words to describe the overall experience: peaceful and happy.

The trip to the U.K. was uneventful enough, other than the fact that the bilingual boy sitting in front of me on the plane started being adorable to me right before we exited the plane.  Oh, yeah--and the fact that I was in line at passport control for about an hour.  A strange, yet polite and chatty woman behind me in line struck up a conversation with me after awhile, and I think it was because we were both tired of listening to "typical" American college boys discussing why exactly they were so tired.  This woman, whose name I didn't catch, was initially from Las Vegas, but moved to Darby because a.) she married an Englishman and b.) God told her to.  (She, er, teaches and does missionary work; you know, all that jazz.)  Despite that bit of awkwardness, the company was welcome, and we managed to make it through the long line with little difficulty.

Poor James, however, had been waiting for me for about an hour, and he became a bit worried when my flight went off the board and I wasn't in sight.  I mean, I'm short, but it is kind of difficult to miss me--you know, with my awesomeness and all.  I had tried to send Marion a text message, but, being also a silly person, I had forgotten to check the U.K. area code.  Regardless, I found James, and we thus made our way to Great Aunt Barbara's flat in Hassocks.

Those of you who have read the post of my first visit to Hassocks realize the importance of meeting Barbara for the first time back in March.  So, you can imagine my contentment when James told me that I'd be spending the afternoon with Barbara until Marion returned from work, seeing as he had a later shift that day.  Barbara looked and seemed as good as ever, and we spent the great part of the afternoon and evening talking, having tea and biscuits, and generally enjoying each other's company.  Eventually, Marion arrived, and the three of us went to the house to have dinner and relax for the night.

It really was a happy day for me.  Travel had gone relatively well (barring passport control; James thought it was the drugs they found), and I had spent the rest of the day feeling once again welcomed into this family.  I had a feeling that the trip would become even more special, and I was right on the money.

The next day, Friday, was quite relaxed, as my main achievement was...walking the dog, Skye.  Why is this worthy of mention?  Why, for many reasons, of course.  Because of this:

Preeeeeeeeeeeeetty.

And this:

Skye is an awesome dog--and my BFF the entire stay.

And I would also post a photo of Marion, but unfortunately I have none from this trip.  Marion or James usually take Skye on an hour-long walk across the Hassocks countryside.  And by "countryside," I mean "in the country, where sheep and cows roam and farmers can shoot dogs for disturbing the sheep."  I loved it.

Hassocks may be a small village between London and Brighton, but it has a lot going for it.  The community is small and tightly-knit, everything is within walking distance, and the scenery is a dream.  I am still trying to come to terms with the fact that a part of my family lives in this beautiful countryside, even during the long, rainy English days.  The entire weekend was beautiful, literally--the sun shone, and it was even warm enough to leave open the back doors all day.  Being able to sit on the grass in the garden sans shoes after our walk gave me a sort of peace that reminded me of my first days in Celle.

 This represents happiness.

As does this hobbit house.

The next day brought about a similar feeling of peace, as Katie, Marion, and I had a picnic outside in the garden (with Skye the Mooch getting a piece of sandwich along the way--hey, it was her birthday), cherishing the rare warmth and sunshine and enjoying each other's company, really.  After awhile, we headed to the neighborhood preschool to briefly watch the fair going on, and then we putzed a bit around Hassocks, particularly the (new) antique store.  And what gems I found:

Yep.  Klassy with a "K."

After our little romp through the village, we returned to the house in order to get ready.  For what, you ask?  Why, for the opera, of course.

Have I ever mentioned that Marion is an opera singer?  Yes?  Well, tough patooties; I'm repeating it now.  She is an opera singer, and she's gotten back into amateur opera after a few years.  And why did I decide to visit my relatives on this particular weekend?  I'll give you three guesses.

Papagena in The Magic Flute.

Papagena...in The Magic Flute.

Papagena in The Magic Flute.

That's right; Marion performed as Papagena in an English translation of Mozart's The Magic Flute, and Saturday was the closing night.  I had been interested in seeing Marion perform in an opera--indeed, it was on my list of Things to Do Before I Die--, and I am proud to say that she was one of the best aspects of the amateur production.  She told me afterward that she hammed it up specifically because I was there, and I agreed with her interpretation; Papagena is a comical figure, and because she has a small but fun role, Marion's performance received chuckles and applause for her duet with Papageno (who, though not a strong singer, was an admirable comedic actor).  And while Marion and I had far too much fun criticizing the performers the next morning over breakfast, I really quite enjoyed the production.  And it made the visit all the more special, for both parties involved.

Sunday called for a visit to Rye, a small harbor town about an hour and a half away from Hassocks.  I didn't mind the drive, for the sole reason that the English countryside is gorgeous.  I must say, I do have a weakness for blue skies, rolling hills, and forests, and I was not disappointed.  When we did arrive at Rye, we strolled around the shops, taking in the sights and enjoying our time together, for I was set to leave the following morning.  And with Marion, James, and Katie to talk to (and be the victim of pranks for), it was another peaceful afternoon for yours truly.  

I wanted some rye bread.

Man, people really do pay an arm and a leg at these antique shops.  I'm so funny.

After briefly chatting with my mother via Skype (so she could see everyone) and dinner out with Barbara and the rest of the family at Friar's Oak, I was forced to say goodbye really...really early the next morning to people who have made an impact on my life in such a short amount of time.  As Great Aunt Barbara said to me before she left for the night, "I'll never forget you."

This trip was easily one of the best I've taken during my Fulbright tenure.  It's hard to believe that I've met the people I have during this time, and it's even harder to realize that I have less than a month here.  And though I do look forward to seeing everyone again back in the States, there are so many things that I will miss here...but, of course, that is for another post.

'Til then, duckies.