Paws, Pints and a Temp Postcode

Dec 29, 2025 to Feb 9, 2026

Dec 29th and 30th

At the Kelowna airport we immediately run into friends heading in the exact opposite direction around the world. A few hugs, travel well-wishes, and the reminder that everyone’s adventure looks a little different — then we’re off.

Calgary is mercifully uneventful, which is exactly what you want from a layover. Before long we’re settled in for the overnight flight to Heathrow, surprisingly comfortable in our seats, sipping wine with dinner and feeling downright spoiled with a blanket and pillow for the night. Sleep happens in short bursts, but we’ll take it.

Late morning we descend into Heathrow with a familiar bird’s-eye view of Maidenhead — once home — and Windsor Castle standing proudly below. It feels strangely comforting to see places that already feel like part of our story.

All luggage arrives intact, always a small victory, and it’s straight on to the car rental. There’s a brief moment of remember which side of the road, which hand shifts panic, but muscle memory kicks in. Driving on the left comes back faster than expected, narrow lanes and all. Through Wargrave, passed the pub Scott was in when he was two, passed the antique store (no longer there) where we bought our corner cupboard and eventually to Henley.

Soon enough we’re pulling up at Vivien’s, greeted by a friendly face and Buffy the dog. No wrong turns, no jet-lag-induced mishaps — just relief, tea, and the satisfying feeling of having officially arrived. We settle in, exhale, and let the first chapter of Paws, Pints & a Temp Postcode begin.

Dec 31^st

We spend the day poking around Marlow and Henley, easing into local life like we never left. First stop: The Meat Hook for lamb chops. What a butcher. The kind of place that makes you want to buy everything! I have to control Neil because he is like a kid in a candy shop.

Next, a stop at Luxters — for peach liqueur (yes, got it Shelley), blood orange liqueur, and a few jars of jam that clearly needed to come home with us. Then it’s on to Henley for two of our old favourites: Waitrose, because some habits die hard, and Majestic Wine. We used to shop there back in the day when you had to buy 12 bottles. These days, it’s only six to get a discount. Not a problem for us. At all.

Back at Viv’s, we do home made plum vodka shots before we head out for a walk around the farm on a noble mission to find sloe berries. They are mostly gone. Eventually, we spot a few hanging defiantly high up, which leads to some creative reaching, minor acrobatics, and puffer coats becoming dangerously acquainted with bramble thorns. Worth it? Absolutely. These berries will be made into Sloe gin just like what we did with Viv in 1998.

New Year’s Eve is all about Beef Wellington and the trimmings, the perfect way to end the year. We have absolutely no intention of staying up until midnight… so naturally, we do. We miss the countdown entirely, too busy talking, laughing, and half-watching whatever’s on TV — which honestly feels like the best possible way to ring in the new year.

January 1st

A gentle start to the year, spent poking around familiar territory. We wander through Maidenhead, driving past the two homes we once lived in — a strange and lovely mix of nostalgia. Our second home was 5 houses from the Thames. So it’s a walk along the Thames by Boulters Lock, calm, quiet, and exactly how New Year’s Day should feel.

We drive past The Fat Duck in Bray (no reservation, can’t afford to go there anymore because it has 3 Michelin stars) and then head over to Eton and Windsor, strolling past the castle and the Royal Theatre where we used to spend many an evening. These places just hold so many memories. And a life when most expenses were covered. Gone are those days.

Back at Viv’s, real life intervenes. The kitchen windows get a much-needed clean both inside and out. Buffy the dog, clearly lives her best life at nose-height. We are then treated to Buffy the Wonder Dog’s party trick: opening and closing the patio doors all by herself. No assistance required. Impressive. Slightly alarming.

The evening is rounded out perfectly with zero ambition and maximum comfort although we did make Madeleines — Prime binging from the sofa, with the fire roaring – exactly the pace we were aiming for.

January 2

Up early and off to Diddly Squat Farm — because yes, we are fans of Clarkson’s Farm. It’s just past Oxford, about an hour away, and thankfully not overly lined up when we arrive. Frost clings to the windows, a skiff of snow dusts the ground, and the air is properly chilly — around freezing, which the locals are not used to driving in.   We, of course, are completely comfortable navigating it — years of Canadian winters have prepared us well. We wander, browse, and leave with a few carefully chosen items… because who goes to a farm shop and buys nothing?

From there it’s straight over to The Farmer’s Dog for a pint and a sausage roll. Honestly, no further explanation needed. This is the Cotswolds and we end up going through Burford where we bought a coffer that we still have in our living room today.

On the way back, we toy with the idea of stopping in Oxford for old times’ sake — a wander through the city centre, the covered market from the 1770s and all those great shops. But access is clearly park-and-ride only. Sensible on Oxford’s part. Less appealing on ours. We decide to pass on by.

Back to Viv’s in good time and straight into supper prep — lamb chops on the menu, again not disappointing. The day winds down the same way it seems many of them will on this trip: comfortably settled in, feet up, fire burning and more Prime binge-watching. No regrets.

January 3

Up early and packed for the next leg of our adventure: Lymington on the south coast, home for the next five weeks of dog sitting with HouseSitMatch. Use code wineandcheezies for a 25% discount on membership. The drive is uneventful. Lymington is charming, the kind of town you immediately like, with cobbled streets, colourful boats, and an undeniable seaside charm. An Anglo-Saxon village and is recorded in the Domesday Book as ‘Lentune’.

We meet Wendy and Phil, along with Millie, a mini schnauzer just like the one we had. It’s instant doggie deja vu. The cottage is perfectly appointed: master with ensuite, fab kitchen with a large fridge (nice touch), guest room, a guest house above the garage, and every little detail we could need. Wendy and Phil run us through all the essentials before leaving to finish packing for their own trip.

After unpacking and settling in, it’s off to Waitrose, where we spend £328 on groceries and wine. Some of it is practical for five weeks, sure… but mostly it’s food, because why not? Back at the cottage, we prepare supper, collapse into chairs, and call it an early night — partly from travel fatigue, partly because we know tomorrow will be our first proper day on the coast.

Another sunny day, though the rain was threatening in the distance, so we made a quick dash to the Lighthouse Restaurant area near Milford for a walk along the sea with Millie. High tide was due in two hours and the waves were already crashing in — dramatic, loud, and completely addictive. We’re really going to miss this. 🌊🐾

January 4

We start the day with a 7 km walk along the sea wall, taking in the sweeping views of salt marshes from medieval times and the semi-wild ponies of the New Forest. They’re technically owned, but allowed to roam freely for grazing, which makes them feel like magical little surprises along the path. Absolutely charming.

Afternoon takes us downtown to poke around and discover the marina and shops on High street.

Back at the cottage, it’s time to relax, read, and ease into the rhythm of our temporary home. The evening is quiet, the kind of peaceful end to a day that makes you appreciate the slower pace. An early bedtime is in order — still adjusting to the eight-hour time change, and knowing the next few weeks promise plenty of dog walks, good food, and hopefully minimal chaos.

January 5

A shorter walk this morning — saving our energy for the real adventure: Waitrose, round two. Cha-ching! Another £140 later, we’re loaded up with groceries. One thing I forgot about was eggs are not in a cooler like North America but sitting right on the shelf. Honestly, the grocery options here are dizzying: quail eggs, fresh puff pastry (never frozen), endless varieties of cookies and biscuits (apparently we have a thing for orange and chocolate), seafood, every imaginable cut of meat… it’s a foodie’s paradise. Of course, no Hawkins Cheezies — apparently some things are strictly Canadian but don’t worry I have some along for snacking.

Back at the cottage, the afternoon sun is intense and irresistible. We succumb to a proper nap on the bed, warm rays streaming in, feeling like very content cats.

Early to bed again — pacing ourselves, adjusting to the rhythm of life by the sea, and mentally prepping for tomorrow’s adventures with Millie the mini schnauzer.

January 6th

A slow morning, exactly as it should be, followed by a walk with Millie downtown to The King’s Head for proper fish and chips. Crispy batter, perfect chips — the real deal along with mushy peas. I don’t get mushy peas … they are tasteless. Millie has absolutely no trouble settling into pub life, clearly she has been here before. The server even brings her a dog treat, which officially seals her loyalty to this place.

We wander back as the light fades far too early with the winter days but at least now we are moving in the right direction. With darkness settling in, we do too — a quiet evening indoors, warm and content, feeling very much at home in our temporary postcode.

The Church of St Thomas in downtown Lymington dates back to the 13th century. It’s no wonder we couldn’t read most of the headstones. Can you imagine the people once gathered around them, centuries ago, mourning, remembering, living their lives — and now here we are, casually walking past on a quiet afternoon. Absolutely incredible. I love history!

January 7th

Today was all about easing back into real life… or at least pretending we are. We headed into Southampton on a mission to find cheap yoga mats—strictly the kind you can leave behind—because it was officially time to stop talking about yoga and actually do some. Mission accomplished.

We also made a very important stop at one of our all-time favourite department stores: John Lewis. Honestly, we love this place. So much beautiful home décor that we just don’t see back home. We may or may not have ordered a duvet cover to be delivered to our temporary address, which meant we finally got to use our temp postcode. A small thrill, but a thrill nonetheless.

And yes, this was absolutely planned—we brought an extra duffle bag specifically for hauling home UK treasures. Strategic shopping at its finest.

That pretty much sums up the excitement for the day. A short walk for Millie (and us), a little shopping, a little yoga ambition, and another very normal, very lovely day living temporarily like locals.

January 8

Dog walk first thing this morning because heavy rain was forecast for the afternoon. Some parts of the UK are even getting snow—meanwhile, we’re bracing for a proper soaking. More than once I yelled for Millie to come and accidentally called out Grapes. Fourteen years with our mini schnauzer is hard to undo—even eight years later, she’s never far from our thoughts.

I also tried out a local stylist for a haircut—always a bit of a gamble in a new place, but when in temporary postcode mode, why not.

Then it was full cocoon mode before the rain hit. And wow… torrential downpour. Not drizzle, not rain—this was a real, proper rain. The kind that makes you very happy to be indoors.

Neil had a few work calls, and the rest of the day was quiet and uneventful. No big adventures, just one of those very normal days that somehow still feels memorable when you’re living somewhere else.

January 9

Slow morning all around. I finally tested out the yoga mat (verdict: approved), then our John Lewis delivery arrived—always a small thrill when you’re living out of a temporary postcode. Dog walk done, we headed back to Waitrose for Friday night supplies, where we discovered Longhorn beef crisps and chicken & thyme crisps (not as weird). At least there were no Marmite crisps… so that felt like a small win. LOL.

We took a quick drive over to Milford-on-Sea to check out the cliffs and sea wall. A mix of sun and cloud today and a bit chilly, but honestly nothing compared to Canadian standards—we’ll take it. Storm Goretti really did a number on the rest of the UK yesterday, with high winds, snow, and freezing temperatures. Down here? No snow, just plenty of rain and a slightly dramatic sea putting on a show.

January 10
Lazy morning, a quick walk for Millie, and then we were off to the New Forest Farm Shop in New Milton. Neil gets very excited in places like this—meat and seafood everywhere. We came out loaded with sole, mussels, venison, and pork & leek sausages. Clearly showing great restraint.

We darted back to the cottage to grab the dog and then headed to Highcliffe Beach. What a cool spot, with several pathways along the sea—some up on the cliffs and others right down at the water’s edge. High tide wasn’t for a couple of hours, so we let Millie off leash to tear around the beach. Plenty of surfers were out trying to catch waves, which seems to be a recurring theme lately… we just saw surfers in Tofino back in November.

After a quick stop at Highcliffe Castle, it was back to the cottage for a full-on mussel feast. A pretty perfect end to the day.

January 11
Today we met up with Tan (a fellow Canadian) and David, friends of Wendy and Phil—the people we’re dog sitting for—who live in Milford. Wendy and Phil suggested we get together, and it turned out to be a great idea.

We went over to Tan and David’s place for coffee and had a really nice visit. Their dog Maisie and our Millie are old-time friends, so Millie walked in like she owned the place and settled right in. Tan and David will be in British Columbia this summer visiting their son and daughter, which gave us lots to talk about and compare—always fun finding those Canada connections so far from home.

We also learned more about the area and came away with a solid list of recommended pubs and places to check out, including one owned by a Dire Straits band member that’s close by. With the weather wet and blustery today, we skipped any long walks and kept it cozy and social instead.

January 12
We did a 6 km walk today along the edge of Lymington into downtown, passing the saltwater outdoor pool, the yacht club, and some pretty exclusive properties along the way. Lea House caught our eye, along with another massive estate where a Lamborghini SUV just happened to be pulling out as we walked by. You can’t help but wonder who lives in places like that. We also noticed bamboo growing and plenty of palm trees—there are a lot of palms in this area, which really tells you something about the climate.

The paths were soaking wet with water lying everywhere, which meant Millie came home absolutely covered in mud. Back at the cottage it was straight into the bath for her—definitely not her favourite part of the day.

The rain really set in during the afternoon, so we cocooned for the rest of the day and leaned fully into a cozy, stay-in kind of evening.

January 13
A short walk for Millie this morning as the rain was threatening, followed by some running around for supplies. We’re hosting friends visiting from London this weekend, so dinner planning and grocery gathering were officially underway.

January 14
Out the door early with Millie and the car fully loaded, we set off for Bridport and West Bay along the Jurassic Coast. The drive took us through the New Forest, where we spotted loads of wild horses roaming through a mix of forest and scrubland—always a highlight. We passed through the very picturesque village of Burley, then continued on past the long brick wall of Charborough House, said to be one of the longest brick walls in England, built around 1841.

After passing through Dorchester, we made our way down to Bridport, famous for its dramatic cliffs and for being a filming location in the BritBox series Broadchurch. It’s a beautiful little port town. We stopped for lunch at a pub, wandered a bit, and soaked it all in before starting the drive back to Lymington.

We briefly considered heading down to Corfe and Sandbanks and taking the ferry, but decided to save that adventure for another day. That’s the beauty of having five weeks here—no need to rush, plenty of time to come back and explore properly. After what felt like countless roundabouts, we rolled back home happily exhausted.

January 15
Today was all about planning and prepping for tomorrow night’s dinner, because we have a couple of Londoners coming to visit. We’re ridiculously excited to see these two—we haven’t laid eyes on them since 2019, which feels like several lifetimes ago.

The duck confit has been quietly cooking away all day, filling the cottage with that rich, irresistible smell and absolutely driving Millie mad. She’s been hovering just in case something accidentally falls to the floor so she could “hoover”.

It’s raining pretty hard today, the kind of rain that is soaking. We’ve noticed the garden starting to collect a fair bit of water, which we’re hoping doesn’t turn into an issue. Fingers crossed it’s just another very British rain event and nothing more. And that is all it was, the water slowly receded from the garden.

January 16
Up and out with the dog for a walk before the day really gets going. Then it’s last-minute groceries and a quick tidy to make the cottage guest-ready—nothing like visitors to motivate a proper clean.

Next stop: Brockenhurst train station to pick up Jane and Rob. Seeing them step down the stairs of the train platform was a instantly happy moment, like no time has passed at all. Straight into the car and off to Majestic Wines so we can take full advantage of Jane’s discount—because it would be rude not to.

Twelve bottles later (oops), we head back to the cottage, bottles clinking, ready to start what promises to be a long, delicious, laughter-filled evening of feasting, catching up, and making up for lost time.

And it turned out to be a great evening, one of those effortless ones that flows naturally from course to course. We bounced between the dining room and the kitchen as each dish made its appearance—starting with crab dip, puff pastry cheese sticks, moving on to mushroom soup with a parm crisp, and then settling into the main event of duck confit with pavé potatoes. Many of you reading this will recognize this meal as we have done it several times for friends and family. The reason we chose this meal was the ability to be prepped mostly ahead of time. This way we had more time for enjoying and visiting.

Dessert was madeleines, baked without their proper shell-shaped moulds and instead sacrificed to a shallow muffin tin. Not quite the classic look, but still light, fluffy, and absolutely delicious. Proof that taste matters far more than appearances.

Five bottles later, stories had grown longer, memories a little fuzzier, and laughter much louder. Eventually, we decided it was time to call it a night and hit pause on the reminiscing—at least until morning.

January 17th

We head downtown on foot, but between the nonstop chatting and possibly the navigateur, we take a wrong turn and end up walking waaaay farther than necessary. Or maybe that was entirely planned.

The mission for the morning is fresh seafood. We walk both sides of the market. No seafood. WTH! After finally asking someone (a radical move), we learn the seafood stalls are actually at the top of High Street—which we hadn’t walked quite far enough. So back up High Street we go, slightly wiser.

Success at last at CoralBay Seafood. The stand is looking a bit picked over—note to self: next week we arrive at 8 a.m. sharp—but the guy is incredibly friendly and happily talks us through how to bake a turbot. Sold. Dinner is now sorted, along with a shit ton of garlic and some prawns for an appetizer.

We grab a few other essentials and a zip-up “jumper” for Neil (British terminology), then make a stop at a wine bar/store for more provisions and possibly some cigars. Priorities.

By now it’s absolutely time for a pint. We wander down the “cobbley bits” toward the harbour and settle in at The Ship Inn for a pint and some crisps. It’s sunny enough to sit out on the deck, which feels like a small miracle. Sun shining, harbour views, pints in hand—it’s glorious.

We walk back feeling very pleased with ourselves… and then gins happened. The afternoon drifted by with Rob and Neil enjoying their cigars out in the garden, solving the world’s problems one puff at a time.

And then it was time to start food prep for the night. Well… some of us did, while I perched on a bar stool, sipping wine and enjoying the show.

The scampi—with a shit ton of garlic—was an absolute hit. The prawns were tender, flavorful, and just the right amount of indulgent. The turbot, resting on a bed of fennel and asparagus, paired beautifully with roasted lemon potatoes.

To make the evening even more special, we opened a very special bottle of Meursault from the Hospices de Beaune auction. This was one of several bottles we snagged back in 2019—thanks to Jane—delivered to Canada and carefully hauled back by us to gift Jane as a “thank you.” In a very kind gesture, she decided to share it with us, making the meal feel truly memorable.

And let’s not forget the introduction of Hawkins Cheezies to these two Brits while we finish off a bottle of red. At least, they didn’t suggest dipping the cheezies in Marmite!

Sunday, January 18th
A slow start to the day—load and unload the dishwasher, take Millie for a walk, nothing too taxing. Then, on a whim, we head to Setley Vineyard. Why not do a wine tasting, right? Well… the wines aren’t particularly exciting, but it turns out to be a proper farm shop with all kinds of local goodies and garden items. Half-price Christmas items catch our eye, naturally, and we pick up a very British acorn-shaped Christmas ball. Then, to add to our gargoyle collection at home, we grab a bat hanging upside down. Some of you might think that’s weird—but if you saw our home and terrace, you’d understand.

After a short little walk along the seaside with Millie, it’s off to The Gun Inn for a proper Sunday pub lunch. Think roast pork with crackling and roasted veg, complete with Yorkshire pudding—or a perfectly pink roast beef. Pure perfection. Dessert rounds it all off, and honestly, we won’t need to eat for the rest of the day.

Back at the cottage, we kill time with “an oldie but goodie” movie—Big—which is far more enjoyable than expected. Then comes the bittersweet part: taking Jane and Rob to the train station. We will see them again in two weeks time in London which is going to be good fun. Once we drop them off and we are home in no time, we plant ourselves firmly on the couch and dive into a Netflix binge, the perfect end to a gentle, indulgent Sunday. No need to prepare a meal so popcorn is the snack of the evening. But it is pre-popped popcorn. Can’t find any microwave popcorn or popcorn kernels in the stores so it is a doctored up bag of lightly salted popped corn. Think gourmet popcorn – duck fat (because we now have lots) and rosemary!

January 19th
Today is all about catching up on blogging… and tackling the notorious task of doing laundry in Britain! Oh, the memories. Doing laundry here is brutal—I remember this from when we lived here. We had a washing machine that “turned into a dryer” and it was about as useful as a chocolate teapot. Hours and hours for one measly load.

This cottage is better though with a separate dryer… in the garage. Some places in Canada wouldn’t be too happy about that with their temperatures. This is convenient even though you are hauling wet clothes across the driveway. You could also do the trick of small loads and using the radiators to dry things, but when it comes to sheets and towels, you basically need the dryer. The clothes line this time of year is also useless because it is always raining. All good fun!

January 20 – Adventure to the Isle of Wight
The morning starts exactly how yesterday ended: out to the garage to check on the damn laundry. Guess what? The sheets are still damp. Unbelievable. Dryer goes back on. Again. At this point, it feels personal.

We grab the dog, head out the door, and make our way to the Quay in downtown Lymington. Today’s plan: the pedestrian ferry to Yarmouth on the Isle of Wight. A 25-minute walk later, we’re on the ferry… and we’re the only ones onboard. Clearly not peak tourist season, which suits us just fine.

Once in Yarmouth, we wander through the quaint town, passing Yarmouth Castle—part of Henry VIII’s coastal defence system. History just casually popping up as you stroll along. We stop for a quick coffee to make a plan, then set our sights on the bus that will take us out to the Needles.

The Needles are iconic—three dramatic chalk stacks (98 feet) jutting out of the sea—and a must-see. At the bus stop, we ask a few locals for guidance, who are incredibly helpful. At some point, I feel compelled to announce that we’re Canadian. They laugh, admitting they were trying to place our accents and wondering if we were American. I could tell. So I figured I’d just clear that up.

The bus ride itself is great, winding through tiny villages and rolling countryside, and in about 25 minutes we’re dropped off… and immediately wonder, now where the hell do we go?

Yet again, a very helpful local comes to the rescue and points us in the right direction. The answer: a 40-minute uphill hike. Perfect. A German student named Laura ends up joining us—her mission is exactly the same as ours. She’s doing her PhD in Southampton and is a lovely young woman, so onward and upward we go together.

The views are absolutely spectacular. Sunlight hits the chalky white cliffs, waves crash dramatically below, and it’s impossible not to stop constantly for photos. I take many—this place is ridiculously photogenic.

When we finally reach the area overlooking the Needles, the wind is next-level. Seriously howling. Scattered around are old defence batteries and coastal fortifications from years gone by, adding a heavy dose of history to the already dramatic landscape. Getting right out to the viewpoint of the Needles proves challenging in the wind. I manage a couple of photos but can’t quite make it all the way to the point—it’s just too windy, and we’re on a tight schedule.

We catch the bus and make it back to Yarmouth in time to hop on the ferry back to Lymington. With lunch completely skipped, we grab a Cornish pasty to take the edge off before the walk back to the cottage.

All in all, it’s been a really good day—one of those that feels full without being rushed. We make it back just in time too, as the sunny skies give way to a blustery, rainy evening. Perfect timing, once again.

January 21st Beaulieu
We start the day with a walk to the park for Millie, taking advantage of a brief break in the rain. Then it’s off to Beaulieu (pronounced Bewley, because of course it is) for a pub lunch.

It is absolutely pouring, like drenching rain. Many of the narrow little roads are flooded—the ground is so saturated that the water has nowhere left to go. It feels very winter-in-England.

We eat at The Montagu, which is a very “posh” pub. Pint in hand, we once again go for fish and chips—no regrets. The town of Beaulieu is beautiful. After all, French translation is beau (beautiful) and lieu (place).

I have to say, the British (and Europeans in general) are incredibly good at repurposing old buildings. You’ll see an old barn or garage turned into a sleek modern office with glass doors, or maybe it’s a brand-new build made to look centuries old—which is also totally brilliant. Either way, everything fits so perfectly into the surrounding environment.

We’ve seen plenty of thatched roofs too, some of them incredibly ornate. I will get a photo …….. one of these days.

After lunch, it’s off to the Motor Museum on the grounds of the Montagu family estate. Entry is £30 each—which is about $60 CAD—so for the two of us that’s $120. This better be frickin’ fantastic.

The estate history alone is impressive. Beaulieu was originally a Cistercian abbey founded by King John in 1204, before being destroyed on the orders of Henry VIII in 1538 during the Dissolution of the Monasteries. The estate has been in the Montagu family since then, and the current family still lives in part of the palace, with the rest open to the public. During the Second World War, the estate was also used by the Special Operations Executive (SOE) as a training site for secret agents between 1941 and 1945.

The motor museum itself is incredible, filled with historic vehicles—many from racing history, including land speed record holders—and famous cars from movies like James Bond and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

The palace is absolutely beautiful, and honestly impossible to describe properly. The photos don’t even do it justice.

The estate grounds are massive, and there’s even a monorail that takes you past workshops and garden areas. The staff, all dressed in period costumes, are incredibly helpful and happy to answer our endless questions. And yes, once again we found ourselves announcing that we’re Canadian—especially given the current crazy world events. A few of the staff said they could tell from our accents anyway.

All in all, a truly brilliant day.

January 22nd Haselbury Plunkett

January 22
Today we drive two hours to Haselbury Plucknett. How’s that for a town name? The first part means “hazel grove” and the second comes from the name of its medieval owners. It’s one of the few manors that retained its Saxon owner, Brismar, after the Norman Conquest. A later lord, Richard of Haselbury, rebelled against King John and was hanged at nearby Sherborne. Casual little roadside history. The Haselbury Bridge itself is a stone build dating back to the 14th century.

Anyway, this road trip—with Millie in the back seat—is all about meeting up with Neil’s former boss and dear friend, Chris, from our Maidenhead days. He drives two hours as well, making the White Horse the perfect halfway point. It’s a gastro pub and we end up having a fantastic three-hour visit, with very selective drinking since we’re all driving.

We do get to try a Lebanese wine and it’s surprisingly delicious. The food is fantastic too—steak cooked to perfection.

We make sure to take a different route home so we’re not staring at the same scenery, and on the way we drive past Salisbury and catch a glimpse of the magnificent cathedral. We’ve been inside it a few times before, but the last visit was with our moms. They loved it—and Stonehenge as well. Not sure we’ll make it back to Stonehenge this trip, but considering how many Summer Solstice parties we’ve hosted over the years, it feels like it’s calling us. So we’ll see if we can squeeze it in.

We don’t even need supper tonight, so we flop onto the couch ready for some TV. Except… Netflix has decided it’s done with us. We’ve been using the owner’s account, but that suddenly stops working. So we try ours. Nope. Then Prime. Nope. Apple. Also nope. Apparently, our Canadian accounts are not having any of this UK content, even though we’ve told them we’re travelling.

So it’s back to BBC1, BBC2, BBC3… and to quote Austin Powers, International Man of Mystery—“Yeah, baby.”

January 23rd

I feel the need to mention the clothes dryer again. There are three settings: 3 hours, 6 hours, and 9 hours. Nine. Hours. So differnet from what we are used to in Canada.

It’s a late morning start, but we eventually head out for a “ramble” in the New Forest with Millie. And I really need to explain the New Forest, because it’s a gem. Maybe not as famous as Sherwood Forest, but just as impressive. It was established in 1079 as a former royal hunting ground and today covers around 140,000 acres.

The landscape is a mix of scrubby bush, ancient woodlands, and towering trees—sequoia, beech, birch, oak, and more. It’s hard to describe because the forest is dense and full of fallen trees, but there’s a canopy overhead and the whole place feels… mystical. Lots and lots of lichen on the trees. Beautiful. In fact, it’s known as the UK’s most haunted forest, full of history, myths, and legends. Apparently, there are still pubs that put out a pint at closing time for pixies, witches who hold rituals, and foresters who avoid the woods at night. Completely normal. 🙂

And there are a lot of horses (wild or semi-wild), although when you drive by they hardly even glance at you. There are also miniature stick shelters built at the base of some big trees. Is this where the pixies live? No—apparently the naturalists have built them for small wildlife. But I prefer the pixie theory.

The New Forest has over 140 miles of hiking tracks, footpaths, and bridleways, with more than 50 mapped walking routes. All the trailheads are accessible by paved roads, which is seriously impressive. There are also villages, homes, and pubs scattered throughout the forest, which makes the whole place even cooler.

Today’s chosen ramble is Rufus Stone. The stone itself is a very short walk from the car park along a good gravel path, and the legend is worth the visit. Rufus Stone marks the site of the death of King William II (known as Rufus), who was killed while hunting in the forest on August 2, 1100. An arrow fired at a deer by one of his party, Sir Walter Tyrell, glanced off an oak tree and struck the king in the chest, killing him. Was it an accident? Only the ghosts of the forest know.

We stop at the monument and start along the path, but it’s way too wet and muddy. Fortunately, we stumble upon the Sir Walter Tyrell Pub, which feels historically appropriate. Half a pint later, and more explanations that we are Canadian and we attempt to continue… but we don’t have “wellies” so we give up and head back to the car. Back in the car, we come across a stream running across the road, so we literally “ford the stream.” Obviously a common occurrence, because there’s a measuring board on the side of the road. Hopefully things dry out enough for a few more rambles before we leave this area.

On the way back to the cottage, we take a different route and suddenly spot a Canadian flag flying. What? Naturally, we pull over to investigate. It turns out to be a Canadian war memorial. Proud Canadians moment.

The memorial honours Canadian forces who were stationed in the New Forest during World War II in preparation for D-Day on June 6, 1944. Soldiers of all denominations gathered here for church services before heading off to what would become one of the most significant moments in modern history. Not exactly what we expected to find on a country drive.

One more thing I have to mention about the New Forest: the gates. They’re designed to keep the animals in but let humans pass through easily. Sometimes it’s a clever little swing gate, sometimes a big pull handle, and sometimes a “stile”—steps that go over the fence. You just don’t see this in North America, and I think it’s brilliant and totally ingenious. Very British.

(They suck at clothes dryers though.)

Back to the cottage for a vintage British sparkling wine (gift from friend Chris) with our prawn pasta supper. A pretty perfect way to end a slightly damp but very interesting day.

January 24th

We walked downtown with the dog to the market today, taking a more direct route than last weekend (better navigation). Check out the photos for the one pub on the way downtown with the Virgin Mary on the roof. WTH? We weren’t really looking for anything (famous last words), but I somehow came home with a denim-coloured jumper from one of the booths. Again we explain to the vendor that we are Canadian. They all get it.

Along High Street is M&S Food (Marks & Spencer). I’m sure many of you are familiar with M&S — their food halls are right up there with Waitrose and have pretty much what a foodie would be looking for. One thing about M&S is there is a lot of prepackaged food BUT it is not processed. So it’s about convenience but still fresh. Waitrose has this too but M & S seem to have way more. And you can buy small quantities. It is basically a foodie playground. I could happily lose an hour (and a small fortune) in there. Scones are another thing that are perfection. Not like those things we get at Safeway at home. We left with all-butter Scottish shortbread, just because we haven’t eaten enough shortbread in the last month with our afternoon tea. It seemed extremely necessary. We have been doing a bit of a search for the best Scottish shortbread available in England. Yes, I know it is a Scottish thing but it is readily available. This research is kind of like the “Tarte Tatin” search in France. Sound familiar, Joe and Shelley?

We wandered back through the other side of the market, down the cobblestones and down the hill. And finally — The Cellar was open. We’ve walked past it so many times, always closed, always teasing us. Turns out it was worth the wait. Lovely wines, a gorgeous old building, and a very cool atmosphere. The building is the Old Customs House (c.1680), and the interior is decorated with wooden wine boxes and cork stools. History, but with a wine influence.

Then we walked home. I’ve been taking an alarming number of photos of doors and lanes — I love doors, I love architecture, and everything here is just ridiculously quaint. I also ended up with a whole collection of photos of carved stone faces on a church which is now a daycare. It is perfectly normal. BTW if you saw our home you would get it. We have gargoyles and stone faces around our home. Anyway………Better than gnomes, right?

After a quick lunch, we headed off to Burley. We’ve driven through it on a few road trips this past month and it always looked intriguing. It’s known for its Wiccan shops, so naturally we had to investigate. A short drive later and we were off in search of my new broom… purely for transport purposes, obviously.

The shops were busy, but sadly, they were mostly very, very tacky. Lots of Wiccan-themed bits, but heavily leaning into cheap tourist souvenirs rather than authentic mystical vibes. Less “ancient forest magic”, more “gift shop at a theme park”. Slightly disappointing. Great to see some New Forest ponies wandering around town. Caught a couple of photos of thatched roofs. One with rabbits on the top. And a re-purposed phone box as a community book exchange library. Brilliant idea! We have seen defibrillators in some phone boxes.

Back home for a relaxing evening of BBC — where at least the drama is consistently high quality 📺🍷

January 25th A day off from sightseeing but still entertaining!

Just hanging out at the cottage doing some blogging, bookwork, reading and listening to music. It is overcast with intermittent rain so perfect day. We spot a Pheasant wandering around in the garden (backyard) today. That could be supper?

A taste test may be in our future……. the Transatlantic Cheezie showdown!!!!

England (Old World) versus Canada (New World)

We approached this with the seriousness of a wine tasting, except instead of terroir we focused on crunch integrity and cheese aggression.

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This wasn’t a fair fight, but we conducted it anyway in the name of research.

Wotsits are a close 2^nd to the one and only Hawkins Cheezies.  Duh!

January 26

Today we did a 7.6 km hike from Keyhaven (10 min drive from cottage), all the way out along the Hurst Spit to Hurst Castle (1541–1600), a fortress built to control the Needles Passage between the mainland and the Isle of Wight.

The castle has had a long and very busy career — originally from Tudor times, then used again during the Napoleonic era, Victorian period, and both World Wars as part of England’s coastal defenses. Basically, if Britain ever thought, “We might need to defend this bit,” Hurst Castle was involved.

The spit itself is made up of very loose gravel, and honestly… it was a slog. Hiking out there felt like walking through deep snow or soft sand — every step forward came with a tiny slide backwards. Beautiful views, dramatic sea on both sides, but definitely one of those walks where it looks flat and easy on paper and turns out to be a full-on leg workout in real life.

Still, totally worth it for the scenery, the history, and the smug feeling of having earned whatever wine we drink later 🍷💪

January 27th Another “live like a local” day

When travelling, it’s always good to build in some proper down days — time to actually enjoy where you’re staying and just… relax. And that’s exactly what we did. We’ve had a few slower days over the past month, but this one was next-level relaxing.

We started planning the next leg of our trip once we leave the cottage — and Millie. Always exciting and slightly overwhelming.

For supper, we popped over to the Chequers Inn, which is just around the corner. Before we even got to the food, I had to look up a little history on the Chequers Inn (because that’s what you do when you’re in a 300+ year old pub). Documented deeds for the Chequers Inn go all the way back to 1695, and it’s distinguished by the classic chequered sign, which originally hung from the roof’s eaves. The name likely comes from the fact that the local Salt Exchequer Offices for the surrounding salterns once had their headquarters at nearby Lower Woodside Green. Basically, this place has been quenching thirsts for a very long time.

One thing we couldn’t help but notice: for a random Tuesday night, it was packed with locals. And every single one of them seemed to have driven there… and were very much enjoying a few pints. Slightly alarming and scary.

Walking back in the dark along those narrow little country roads was also concerning so we had our phone flashlights on — or should I say, our torches — trying not to get taken out by a rogue car or a very confident hedgehog.

January 28 – Another Road Trip Day

Mid-morning we take off for Bournemouth and the Sandbanks Ferry, heading towards Old Harry Rocks and Corfe Castle. It’s one of those days where the journey is just as good as the destination. We have one detour because of major flooding of the River Stour.

Beautiful sunny and warm day at about 12 Celsius. Our first stop is a walk to Fort Henry, a WWII bunker with Canadian history. It was used by Canadian and British forces in preparation for D-Day, and standing there looking out over the same views they once had feels pretty surreal.

We continue on through the village of Studland and then on to Old Harry Rocks — dramatic chalk formations rising straight up out of the sea. The cliffs are stunning and the colour of the water is that unreal turquoise you usually associate with much warmer places. You can see the Isle of Wight and the Needles across the way. Apparently, a gazillion years ago (okay, more like 60 million), the Isle of Wight and this area were actually connected.

These chalk formations are incredible. We make sure Millie is firmly on leash because we do not want her anywhere near the cliff’s edge.

We walk back into the village and stop at The Bankes Arms for a pint and some chips. Have I mentioned that on this trip we’re drinking more beer than we have in years? In our early dating days – drinking beer in Neil’s car and munching Hawkins Cheezies, it was a lot more, and these days we stick to wine. But this trip — and these pubs — well, you know… when in Rome.

Continuing on our road trip, we head a short distance to Corfe Castle. Built by William the Conqueror, the castle dates back to the 11th century. At the base lies a quaint village that looks like it’s straight out of a storybook.

The castle itself is in ruins, but the National Trust is working on restoration to ensure visitor safety. Once we climb up to the top and look out over the valley and village below, it’s easy to imagine the royalty surveying their peasants — a view fit for kings and queens. Very interesting (and a little humbling) to stand there and take it all in.

Back in the car, Millie is zonked out, curled up and fast asleep. By the time we reach the ferry, though, she’s sitting up, alert and attentively looking out the window. So cute.

January 29 & 30

Two pretty relaxing days of walking the dog and firming up plans for the upcoming weekend. We’re heading off to London by train for Jane Master’s book launch party at Vagabond Wine Bar.

Millie’s owners very kindly arranged for her to have a little dog holiday for two nights so we could attend the party — which was incredibly thoughtful and much appreciated. Two nights in London and a chance to catch up with friends? Yes please.

We don’t feel the need to do all the main sights since we’ve done most of them before, but we’re hoping to fit in a few things we never quite had the chance to do. We also have some other friends to catch up with while we’re there.

And just to really put this trip into perspective — on Jan 31st it will be 51 years that I’ve been hanging out with Neil. Fifty-one. Years. OMG. Known him for 61 years. Not quite as long as Hawkins Cheezies have been around… but clearly both have stood the test of time.

Back on Monday night — should be fun.

January 31st All Aboard for a London Book Party

Well, what a weekend. An early start to get the dog ready for her little weekend holiday, then we catch a taxi and we’re off to Brockenhurst train station. An uneventful train ride through Winchester, Woking and into London Waterloo. This is a new station for us because we usually come in via Paddington.

We grab one of the famous Black cabs to our hotel, which is beside St Paul’s Cathedral. The Lost Property Hilton is an Art Deco hotel and very cool. We chose it because it’s a three-minute walk to the party we’re attending tonight. Perfect planning, if I do say so myself.

We quickly unpack and then head out to meet our friend Sortiris on the steps of St Paul’s. Sortiris, who is Greek, was a student when he worked for Neil in Maidenhead. We’ve kept in touch and the last time we saw him was in 2018.

We walk across the Millennium Bridge towards Borough Market — the exact same place we met Sortiris back in 2018.  We find a wine bar on the second floor overlooking the market and settle in for a proper catch-up. Great views, great wine, and even better company.

Neil spots a Tartufaia shop across the way and now he’s on a mission to get a black truffle for the week. Neil loves mushrooms. Actually, that might be an understatement. We score a black truffle — mission accomplished.

Then it’s back to the hotel to get ready for the party. The party is a book launch for Andrew Neathers and Jane Masters, who co-authored Rooted in Change. The venue is at Vagabond wine bar, just a short walk away.

As we walk over, the moon is almost full, hovering above St Paul’s Cathedral. Absolutely stunning — one of those “is this real ” London moments.

We meet a ton of people from all over the place and, unsurprisingly, a lot of wine is consumed. Vagabond has around 100 wines on tap, with a dispensing system where you choose your size and then tap your card. Brilliant… and very dangerous. Cha-ching.

An incredible evening.

February 1st

Today we don’t really have any plans until this evening, so we can just wander and do whatever we want. Perfect. And it is Sunday morning and that means church bells are ringing. That really brings us back to our time in Maidenhead. Beautiful.

Across the Millennium Bridge again and off to The Shard. The top viewing floor is on level 72. Even the washrooms have floor-to-ceiling windows. The thought definitely crossed my mind about the boats on the Thames and who might be down there with binoculars…

We enjoy a little talk about the facts of The Shard while sipping Moët & Chandon. Pretty spectacular, not going to lie. And the rain and clouds cleared just for our visit.

Did you notice the one picture of the double decker bus in front of Shard? a little wonky? I was trying a vertical pano with iphone camera – guess my hands are not as steady as they used to be.

After The Shard, we decide to head past some of our favourite sites from past visits. We grab the Tube, which is brilliantly efficient.

Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, the street where we once attended Remembrance services with Queen Elizabeth II — and where Neil’s mom was pickpocketed (two very different memories on the same street). Then on to Buckingham Palace, St James’s Park and Piccadilly Circus.

I have to mention there are a lot of tourists and it’s only Feb 1. I can’t even imagine what this is like in summer. And they are all queued up to take selfies with a British red phone booth… yet they could walk one block over and there’s no one around. LOL.

Same thing with the wonky “Big Ben” aka Elizabeth Tower. Pano vertical.

We are meeting Andrea — the daughter of our friends Cathy and Terry — for supper tonight, along with Josh, and it’s in the Coal Drops Yard area. It’s a trendy part of London, so we decide to head there in the late afternoon. Once again, the Tube is impressively efficient.

We poke around and wow… what a cool, happening area. We would never have ended up here if we didn’t have a reason, which is kind of the best way to discover new places. We spot the restaurant where we’re meeting for supper and everything is lining up nicely.

Then we get a text from Andrea, who is flying back from Copenhagen today. Flight delays. No problem — we’ll just go find a bar for a snack and some wine.

But in the end the flight is really delayed and our plans for a proper catch-up are spoiled. Next time, Andrea.

So we pivot and make new plans — an improv show at The Comedy Store in the theatre district. We have time for a little nap before we catch a taxi over to theatre district. Yes, we could of taken the tube but it is also nice to see what is above ground. Like when we pass through Trafalgar Square and see the Canadian flags on the Canadian Embassy. We had thought about visiting Ralph & Pam but apparently they just finished their post and are back in Regina. Fun fact – We voted at the embassy in a Canadian election when we lived here in the early 90s.

The Comedy Store is a unique venue and being improv you can see how talented and quick the performers are. What an excellent show. So many laughs and the perfect way to end the day.

February 2

In all the times we’ve been to London, we’ve never actually gone inside St Paul’s Cathedral. Today, we decided it was time for a proper tour. We’re not religious, but you have to appreciate this building. Wow. Both inside and out. Here are a few pictures around the outside of the cathedral on west side.

The volunteer guides were excellent, the history fascinating, and the architecture and interiors truly special. We loved the stories — including the explanation behind “Rob Peter to pay Paul” — and the whispering gallery, where voices carry in the most unexpected ways. This is all caged in now because well someone decided to jump. So sad. 18 years old. There are two more levels to climb, but we didn’t have the time… and honestly, I couldn’t handle trying to keep hold of Neil while worrying about his “call of the void” phobia. Just as well. It was bad enough on the open spiral staircase where Neil had to stay on the wall side.

It was an interesting tour and absolutely worth it — we’d totally recommend it.

Afterward, we grabbed our bags at the hotel and headed to Waterloo Station for the train. It was slightly delayed, but we made it back to Lymington, where a taxi took us the rest of the way.

We open the door and Millie greets us with uncontainable excitement. It is so good to see her. Lots of cuddles tonight — the perfect end to a busy London trip.

February 3rd

Laundry, editing and downloading photos, writing. Neil had a couple of meetings — it’s crazy how many strata meetings he’s had while on vacation. Volunteer? I get it, the strata has a lot going on but the residents have no idea of the time that is put in by every council member. He’s also had some consulting meetings, but at least he gets paid for those.

Rainy today, so just a short walk through the park for Millie, then out to grab a few groceries. Every time I go to the grocery store here I notice different things. Like haggis — clearly too many left over from Robbie Burns Day. Marmite is actually getting quite common on store shelves in Canada, but not Extra Old Marmite! We were also ridiculously excited to find crispy duck with Chinese-style pancakes — one of our all-time favourite Asian dishes — and chicken liver pâté, which will pair perfectly with the few bottles of red wine that we have to consume before Monday morning.

And remember that truffle? Well, it’s truffle pasta tonight with veal. Delicious. 🍝🍷

February 4

Beautiful sunny day and spring is in the air. When we first got here we saw some flowers budding, but now we’re seeing more and more actually blooming. Water is running away down the little ditches along the side of the roads, and we can already tell this must be an even more beautiful place in the summer.

Our walk today was to the Fisherman’s Rest. Neil had fish and chips and I had crab and salad. The reason I picked the crab was because it came with a salad — and I’m really not a fan of the big fat chips here. I hate to admit it, but McDonald’s skinny fries are still my favourite. I clearly should have just stuck with the fish and chips though, because the crab was… questionable. Oh well, live and learn.

Millie settled in by sitting on my coat on the floor —

the things we do for Millie.

On the walk back we noticed even more unique buildings and couldn’t help but wonder about their history. There is just so much to appreciate here.

February 5th

Another sunny day, though the rain was threatening in the distance, so we made a quick dash to the Lighthouse Restaurant area near Milford for a walk along the sea with Millie. High tide was due in two hours and the waves were already crashing in — dramatic, loud, and completely addictive. We’re really going to miss this. 🌊🐾

Tonight we are going to The Elderflower restaurant on Quay street for the tasting menu. This restaurant is on the Michelin commended list. Very excited!

We enjoyed The Elderflower. Presentation was excellent. Service “spot on”. Everything was delicious.

We walked to the Elderflower Restaurant and then back. Walking there was fine — there was still some natural light. But the last stretch on the way back was a bit scary: no sidewalks, narrow lanes, and no lights. Once again, out came our phone flashlights — partly so we could see, and partly so oncoming traffic could see us.

(Travel lesson learned: English country roads are charming by day… mildly terrifying by night 😅

February 6

Mornings here are clearly not designed for calm, mindful yoga. We roll out our very temporary yoga mats, attempt some very serious mat work… and immediately get attacked by Millie. She’s in our faces, stealing our space, grabbing our feet, and proudly delivering her toys mid–downward dog. Very helpful. Very supportive.

At the same time, Neil has started his 23 days of pushups to raise funds for mental health. Millie has decided this is also a team activity — positioning herself directly underneath him and then launching surprise attacks mid-pushup. Personal trainer? Emotional support dog? Fitness obstacle? Hard to say.

If you’d like to support Neil’s mental health fundraiser (and his battle against canine interference), you can check out his fundraising link here.

Remember that truffle? Well, we had to use it up, so this morning’s scrambled eggs got a very unnecessary but highly appreciated upgrade. Nothing like truffle eggs to make you feel extremely fancy in the morning.

We decided to take Millie for a drive and a walk in the New Forest. We purposely headed over to Beaulieu because I wanted pictures of an ornate thatched house — and ideally a thatcher actually in action. We’d seen one a few weeks back when we visited the Motor Museum, so… mission accomplished. Tick.

With that box checked, we went in search of a proper New Forest walk. We stopped at a couple of spots, but it was just too wet and muddy. Like proper muddy. The kind where you lose a shoe and your dignity. So we abandoned that plan and headed back toward the beach instead.

On the way, we drove through Ashurst. Wow — such cool architecture. These are known as the Lady Wimborne Cottages, with their criss-cross windows, decorative brickwork (called diaper work — yes, really), steep roofs, and Gothic arched doorways. I looked it up and apparently this style is pretty common in the New Forest area. And now I want one. Preferably with a wine cellar. Sadly, I didn’t get any pictures. No place to pull over. It is just a memory now.

On the drive to Milford, Millie was sitting on my lap with her paws digging straight into my quads. It was kind of painful. Like what I pay good money for when I get a massage. Except this one came with fur, judgement, and no spa music. Thanks, Millie.

Back at Milford Beach it was almost high tide and wow — the waves were absolutely crashing in. We got a really good walk in.

As we headed back to the car, I remembered that Tan (remember we met her and her husband back on January 11) told me about a group of women who swim most mornings. They call themselves the “Blue Tits.” Not sure if that’s the official name or not… but honestly, I hope it is. LOL. Yikes. I cannot imagine swimming in that cold water. Back home, people swim in Lake Okanagan every month of the year — and me? I struggle to get in that lake when it’s 40°C outside.

A brilliant thing we’ve discovered in the public washrooms here are the all-in-one hand stations. You put your hands in once and it dispenses soap, then water (for a proper amount of time), and then the hand dryer. No touching taps, no button mashing, no interpretive dance trying to find the dryer. Guessing we have Covid to thank for this little stroke of genius.

We stopped to talk to a guy fishing. He had massive rods dug into the gravel and told us he was fishing for rays (possibly thornback skate). English is our first language, but sometimes the accent make it difficult to understand. Kind of like when we watch Britbox and have to put the captions on. Anyway, he explained the special weighted hooks that dig into the gravel seabed so they don’t get dragged back in with the waves and tides — but then they fold back when a fish bites so you can reel it in. Very clever.

Back to the cottage to start finishing off the wine and groceries we’ve accumulated. This always seems to happen — we buy way too much wine and then suddenly it’s the last few days and we’re basically on a self-imposed mission to make sure none of it goes to waste. Time to get serious about this. 🍷

February 7

Pretty low-key day. Mostly sunny and no rain at all — a nice change. Dog walk and dog bath. Went and got my hair cut again before we leave, then poked around the shops on the High Street and the market. We picked up a couple of cool wooden boxes (small enough to fit in a duffle bag) for hauling table-setting stuff out onto the terrace — clearly thinking ahead to summer suppers.

Neil got another zip jumper and I got a funky jumper. We grabbed a couple of things to go with what was left in the fridge for supper tonight. Getting back to all the cool food ingredients available here, it’s amazing to see things like fresh lime leaves and fresh bay leaves — you just don’t see that in Canada, at least not in our area.

And just reporting on the wine situation: we had a Jane-recommended bottle last night and one left for tonight, so there’s no need to haul anything home. The gin is gone, the peach liqueur is gone, and the blood orange liqueur is also gone. I’d say we calculated that pretty perfectly. 🍷🍸

February 8

An organizing morning of laundry and packing, plus a walk around the neighbourhood for Millie. Spring really is coming. Lots of flowers everywhere. Pheasants wandering about.

Then it was out to the Fleur de Lys pub in Pillley for a pub lunch. This pub serves excellent food, local ales, fine wines and spirits, and its first pint being served can be traced back to 1096. There’s even a list of landlords going back to 1498. The oldest pub in the New Forest — and you can definitely feel the history when you’re sitting inside.

Back to the cottage to finish packing, then off to bed early. Tomorrow is a sad day because we have to leave Millie and Lymington.   

February 9
Pack-up day! Millie is holding down the fort at the cottage, waiting for her humans to return this morning—sadly, no chance for us to see Wendy and Phil before we leave. We hit the road to Heathrow, ditch our extra baggage at our hotel for later, return the car (cha-ching!), and then catch our flight to Dublin.

What a time we’ve had in Lymington and discovering more of England’s south coast. Miss Millie has been an absolute delight—so smart, so lovable. Huge thanks to Wendy and Phil for trusting us with their precious girl. We’re going to miss her terribly! Honestly, given the Canadian dollar, it probably would have been cheaper to just volunteer at the local animal shelter to get our dog fix but this experience has absolutely been worth it.

Slow, local-style travel really is amazing—it’s the best way to soak it all in. This blog has been our memory bank, because let’s face it, we’d never remember “what year was that when we…?” moments without it. And if you’ve somehow survived my ramblings about cultural quirks, random discoveries, and ’90s nostalgia—cheers for sticking around.

Alright, we’re  off. Toodle pip! Cheerio! And if you’re not rolling your eyes yet, come along for the next chapter …………

Ireland – Ancestry, Ale & Our Fav Leprechauns , here we come!