Breakfast in the Raw

A full house was anticipated for breakfast – all briefed (so we thought) that it was for 9am as it was a Sunday morning and we quite appreciated a small lie-in. Veronica was running a few minutes late in rising, 7.45 am instead of 7.30 and so James got rousted out of bed to help with breakfast preparation while Veronica got showered and dressed. At just after 8 am James, dressed only in boxer shorts was cooking tomatoes and sausages on the induction hob, when the first three guests arrived totally unexpectedly!  A very nice Japanese family from Tokyo, Kyoko, a young mother with two very polite youngsters suddenly arrived and scarcely blinked at the sight of a semi-naked man leaning over the stove.

With the explanation that cooked breakfast wouldn’t be ready until 9am, Kyoko, who had arranged an early bus or train-ride, said that they would have to forego breakfast and get something later.  James, however, shepherded them back and they were happy with fruit, cereal, juice and croissants, served by afore-mentioned semi-naked host. (He did try to explain that this wasn’t the customary form of attire!) They seemed very grateful nonetheless and soon headed off apparently satisfied. Half way through the premature meal, Veronica had emerged from the adjacent bedroom swathed only in bath-towel having had her shower, and was intercepted by James before she too appeared deshabille!

Goodness only knows what she will think of British breakfast dress codes when she goes back home to recount the tale!  The premature breakfasting knocked us slightly off our stride and we had planned to surprise the breakfast crowd with a Bucks Fizz to celebrate the other Japanese, honeymooners, who were staying, and another couple’s anniversary, but after the rest had arrived, the moment somehow seemed inopportune. Perhaps another time. As the honeymooners departed for Chester, Shingo, the husband set up his camera tripod in the hall and insisted on a photograph of us (fully dressed) with himself and his wife and Sophie, who was invited up specially. The new wife looked very sweet with her new very short hairstyle, she’d got for herself in Cheltenham yesterday, having arrived with very long, thick dark hair, which she’d kept long for her wedding. Perhaps its a Hiroshima region Japanese custom that only unmarried women wear their hair long?

The latest episode in Charlotte’s ad hoc tour of the continent continued as breakfast ended with a phone call from Venice, Charlotte having broken away from her tour, and asking about changing return flights from perhaps Pisa instead of Athens as originally planned. (Veronica just read the blog and I am convinced is going doo lally! She seemed convinced that Pisa was spelled ‘Pizza’ – too much time in the company of Italian food if you ask me. Mind you, it goes hand in hand with an earlier comment she made when I asked if she had any topics for the blog’ and she asked me ‘What giblets for the dog?’) Advice duly passed on, we’ll see what Charlotte’s next ‘plan’ of action is…


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