Hampton Court!, Garden Parties, Ingwavuna... Married Men (Blech)!!!

‘Lord! Deliver me from married men’ was my prayer as I tiredly walked through waterloo station.
3 hours before
The garden party at Hampton Court Palace had been fantastic. Manicured lawns and trees cut to show off the luminescent beauty of the palace grounds provided a breath taking view as I walked in with S, It was gorgeous. I had no idea that the incandescent grounds were only the start to a fabulous evening; fresh, fruity white wine flowed through unceasingly alongside exquisite hummingbird cup cakes and home made canapés.
The conversations were delightful as Gaynor and Andy Coppin educated S and I on Ingwavuna and the work they were doing there. The smelly but outstanding mud hut, Tony Redmond and his crew had so cautiously built, reminded me to be grateful for the daily comforts I so easily took for granted. The even more impressive thing was that they were going to sleep in it till morning. I did try to convince Tony that given the howling wind, foxes and 'God knows what else' it probably wasn’t a good idea but his mind was made, they were determined to brave it and experience what the citizens of this poverty stricken, bucolic locale lived. (not sans the alcoholic beverage 'tsk tsk' though, legless by morning was the plan! :))

Silently cursing my extremely aching feet, I politely but sadly declined a tour of the palace grounds. S returned smiling delightfully, clothed with envy I listened as she reported the volume of gardens held within the palace walls, she lamented at the number and variety and duly announced that there were conference rooms and event halls. I smiled as I listened to her tale. Marseille Siddel, the inspiration behind the HUT project, closed the evening with a talk on Ingwavuna. I wiped a tear from my eye as she told horror stories of how these people lived, how the life expectancy was approximately 39 years old and how the funds the charity collected went towards helping the indigenes. I felt slightly ashamed at being educated so vastly on a region in Africa. There was clearly work to be done.
Getting off at Hampton Court Station I said a hearty goodnight to S. I had only walked a few meters when I got a ‘hello’ from a decent looking gentleman. I absorbed his interesting look, his body looked like it had been chiseled by Adonis and Hercules very carefully, I casually returned his ‘Hi’.
His brawny urban accent was crystal clear as he told me of his love for fashion despite studying mathematics; he was intriguing and was also my train driver. It was funny. He showed me pictures of his work and his son and then took his leave to start the train. Through the 35minute journey, he came out a few times to check on me, the attention felt great and it was somewhat exciting being fancied by the hot mathematician driver of my train (hmm! It must have been the wine)

My day had started in a groggy haze at 8:30; the past five days of my working week had left me with no time to rest. *sigh*. My darling cousin; M and I had left Edgware at about 10:00, rode the Northern Line, a few buses (thanks to the Olympics and rail repairs) and then the Over ground to Grays to meet our older cousin; AE. Now AE is the coolest cousin I have; adorable, ultra sweet and overly caring are only a handful of the words that can be used to describe her. She fusses continuously, almost to a fault sometimes, not to mention that it’s always a pleasure meeting with her pleasantness. I had tried to warn M that there was no way they would leave home for the intended party at 14:00, she doubted. AE picked us up and true to my word we made a quick stop at the Asian beauty palace so she could get her eyebrows threaded, it was so quick M and I had at least an hour to get salad ingredients from the grocers, window shop and acquire beautiful hair accessories from the market.:) (I love markets)
We eventually got to her house at about 14:30. I was assigned ‘Salad duty’. The joys of family; love, mouthwatering fried rice, chicken, digs, hugs, cousins and intelligent conversation with my’ deep’ uncle took us to well over an hour. I finally escaped and met with S.
Another hour later S clad in a sexy, short gown and I in my Grecian jump suit were on the M25 to Hampton Court Palace and our gorgeous Garden party.

Oh my mathematician train driver, apologies, digress is what I do! :). As I got off, he was waiting on the platform. He asked for my number, damn! I had given it before I saw the platinum band ! My smile turned to ice…
‘Sir, please do not call me, you are married!!Thank you!’ I walked away part annoyed, part irate… what is it with married men that makes them want to cheat??? Aaarrggghhh!

*On a lighter note, it turns out my indie ‘coffee guy’ remember him from a few weeks ago? Is a travel writer (how cool is that). I got some really cool tips about how to get on cosmo and vogue’s books today… Once again I’m floating on air…*