web analytics

Want to go

You see, Pratts Bottom and I have a history. When I first met him, Uncle B had a house in London and, a few years later, bought a small holiday flat on the coast. Whenever I came over, we’d more or less immediately pack up and head South.

I enjoyed that trip, in a way. It was neat watching the transition from urban to rural – which happens surprisingly quickly. Not too far from the urban nightmare that is modern London you find yourself among rolling hills and sheep.

One of the places we passed on the way was Pratts Bottom – or a signpost to it, anyway. And I always said, “please, can we stop and have tea in Pratts Bottom?” and then I’d laugh like a drain. Probably because I was jetlagged.

We never did have tea in Pratts Bottom and we probably never will. It’s a long way to go if you’re not going on to London.

Note it is in Orpington, where the excellent Orpington chicken originated. When I was first shopping for chickens, my first choice was buff orps. They are, however, gigantic. Gazing upon them and thinking of his garden, a tear formed in the corner of Uncle B’s eye.

That’s how I ended up with bantams. The chicken seller rather acidly said, “oh, I thought you were looking for real chickens.”

February 23, 2023 — 8:02 pm
Comments: 10