Butterflies in Bampton

I had stated in this column a few days ago that the blonde genes of the delightful bride Sophie, whose wedding we were celebrating over two day in Oxfordshire, would eventfully win out and it happened yesterday. A mere 34 people were sitting down to lunch in the marquee and over a conversation when she was trying to underline the obvious nature of a statement she had made she said, in the manner of “do bears shit in the woods”,”is the Pope Jewish?” Actually I think the Pope missed a trick when he came to name himself. George Ringo would have been so much better.

That Nice Lady decorator’s brother, whose daughter was getting married, asked what I thought of Biztro where we were staying in Bampton. he made a comment about how it must be interesting to be staying at the same establishment as his alcoholic sister and mad aunt, and then went on to say something about me having to sleep with alcoholic, which I simply did not understand.

Actually, I conked out in the evening. We had popped over to The Trout on Tadpole Bridge ( I jest not) for a decent pint before the off, and arrived at lunch at around 1pm. We left, once again thoroughly well fed and watered and having consumed two good cigars by about 7pm, I was in need of a nap. The idea was for us to reawaken at 8.30 for a nightcap and perhaps a light late supper, but I admit that come the appointed time I was unable to rouse myself from my bed and I had a false start, and then a disqualification. That did not stop the decorating person and the mad aunt from going out and thoughtfully bringing me back a London Pride beer mat from The Talbot, where they had belatedly discovered a decent pint.

I was awoken to be given my gift and regaled with a story about a lady dining in the bar at Biztro, who apparently was of a size where no food would be required for some months. It seems she was wearing a dress, or more accurately, a large tent, made from a material covered in butterflies. The gist of the story was that the butterflies were extremely large and for some reason this caused some merriment, which I was forced to appreciate at around midnight. The “Butterfly Lady” was discussed at length over breakfast, apparently had she said “does my bum look big in this” there would have been an outbreak of hysteria. Dear Aunt Pam even joined in suggesting that she had sat behind her for a few minutes last night and had been in almost complete darkness.

Downton Church

My picture today is of Bampton church which often features in episodes of popular TV series Downton Abbey, and was the church where the lovely Sophie tied the knot. It really is the most beautiful church, just a pity that the vicar had no sense of humour. He said that had locked the church straight after the service without thinking, but we all know he wanted to keep the beautiful flowers Sophie, who I am delighted to say will soon become my latest Currencies Direct client, had prepared for her wedding for his Sunday service today. He had to be dragged out of the vicarage to open the church so they could be retrieved.

Yes it is a Sunday, a day of rest. I have done my share of churches for the year but feel I am behind quota as far as visits to pubs in concerned, so I feel I must work harder to keep up to target. Thus when we arrive back in Arundel at lunchtime, I feel it will be my duty to visit a pub or pubs, with a view to having a late lunch. My own feeling is either the Black Rabbit or the George and Dragon.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News