“But upon the eyes of Achilles fell sweet sleep, / Weary, for the shapely ankles of Patroclus / Had he chased all day through the plain of battle” Homer

We rose early and gathered our stuff together each leaving a small pile of clothes from Thailand that we didn’t need around Britain. Saying goodbye to Mary we trundled out to catch a bus to the tube station. Up until now the buses had been regular as clockwork however as we walked to the bus stop 2 went past in a row. Then we proceeded to have a 20 minute wait which in crisp 4c conditions does get old pretty quick. Finally, I gave up and ordered an Uber which of course then prompted 4 buses to come past.
Two uneventful tube rides later and we were at Waterloo Station. I took mum into a M&S food hall to stock up on train snacks to find it much smaller than I had expected. We grabbed sandwiches and crisps and set about finding something to eat now. As we wandered I saw the full size M&S that I remembered and realised we had shopped at the auxiliary. Oh well

We each got a pastie and a coffee and breakfasted by the barrier to our platform. Soon we were on the train and somewhat miraculously seemed to be going down the same track as yesterday’s trip even though we were headed west rather than south today. Still I supposed I should trust they knew what they were doing.

After flying through the home counties countryside we arrived at Salisbury. I bundled us into a cab which had classical music playing which seemed to scream “you are no longer in London” .
Last time I was here I stayed in a very special accommodation. Within the cathedral Close opposite Bishops Walk sits the Sarum Theological College. The main building was designed by Sir Christopher Wren and built in 1677. Wonderfully you can stay there for very reasonable money and sleep within the Cathedral close. So of course I booked us in to stay here again. You just need to make sure you are home from the pub before the gates get locked.

We arrived at the college and were signed in by a woman I would like to think was named something like Bethany or Genevieve. Middle aged, middle class, no doubt a stalwart of W.I. meetings , a wit as sharp and fast as any comedians. I gave my name and then started to prattle on about how we had changed our plans and added a second night as a separate booking … she lifted a single finger to her mouth as to silence my purposeless noise. Later as she got to the end of the spiel and warned us about the gates shutting I admitted I had stayed before and I was good naturedly admonished for not telling her and letting her waste time going through it all. Later when I struggled with the giant oak door release button that allowed passage back to the foyer from the inner college she was waiting to proclaim “see! you didn’t remember that did you!”

After laying out our things we set out for some pubs and the other important church in town. First up we went to The New Inn which is just outside the close. A Hall and Woodhouse pub last time I had a good pint of Tanglefoot here. This time I found it a little grainy and not in the best form but there was some great people watching to be had. A small wake was going on and a smartly suited son was chatting to fellow mourners about the deceased. After they left other English people in the bar immediately started quizzing him on details of his father and their relationship. These questions were incredibly forward, almost brazen, for the English. It occurred to me that the pub is truly a place in English culture where the rules are relaxed. There is no way strangers would be so probing and admit so readily that they had been eavesdropping on say a train or bus. But in the pub, it is accepted that the rules are lowered. They did of course pepper every enquiry with ‘sorry’ but again that is the English for you.

As an aside there were two dogs in the pub both of whom took an instant growling dislike to the grieving man in the suit. He did have a mischievous glint in his eye and devil-like creases in his suit. Who knows what they could sense.

We continued on to the church of Thomas a Becket. In this parish church there remains a doom painting. Painted in 1470, when Britain was Catholic, it represents the Last Judgement and shows the hellish fate that awaits the sinners. Most these paintings were destroyed during the Reformation but this one was simply covered with whitewash and was uncovered in the nineteenth century. We paid a donation and sat alone in the church and gazed upon some unimaginably old history.

Then it was round the corner to the Haunch of Venison an ancient ale and chop house. We had a couple of pints and some rarebits. The Haunch of Venison is famous both for its old history, a mummified hand which was supposedly a gambling debt forfeit and for being a secret meeting place for Churchill and Roosevelt prior to D Day.

We wandered on to the Wyndham Arms, the flagship pub of the Hopback Brewery. Last time I was here I loved the pub but the beer hadn’t been in great nick. This time upon walking in I ordered a pint of Summer Lightning and a ½ of their stout and the booming laugh of Time Team’s Phil Harding reached my ear. I said to mum “ we are going to sit there” and motioned to a table next to him. Phil was entertaining some people from overseas and was in good form sipping ale from a custom pottery pint pot. We got the full experience. The beer was much better this time too.

Then it was back to the college to clean up the last of the sandwiches while watching Time Team episodes on my laptop as mum had no idea who Phil was. Then was to bed to sleep in the presence of the gods.