Always pack a hedgehog

Last Sunday Garry and I enjoyed our first family day in the UK. We took the SAAB for a spin down to Fernhurst, a small village 40 miles south of London. My Aunt Shirley lives here, along with my cousin Hilary, her husband David and their daughter, Ellen. I last saw them three years ago during a holiday stop-over in Sydney.

Garry and I joined the family for a Sunday lunch. My cousin Nicholas and his wife, Carolyn, also joined us for a mini-reunion as they were in the area looking at property. They're hoping to move into the area when the right house presents itself.

We enjoyed a delightful afternoon, sharing stories and catching up. Garry and Carolyn were amused by moaning from the rest of us as we lamented turning 40. Garry also got to hear a few of the family's war stories, including tales about a family crest on my father's side. Rather than the usual falcon, boar or other fearsome animal, the crest includes a hedgehog. Apparently, one of my forbearers was returning from the Crusades when his horse tripped on a hedgehog. As the horse stumbled, an enemy arrow whizzed harmlessly by. The hedgehog had saved the returning knight from a fatal arrow.

As a result of our travels, we now know how long it really takes to wind your way through London. It took us almost an hour to get from our house to the motorway south. I'm sure we took the scenic route, driving past Kensington, Earl's Court station and the centre of Putney. Not an easy task with a pocket-size A-to-Z street directory. Narrow London streets tend to blend into a blur of confusing lines and squiggles when reduced to handy pocket size. No guessing what we'll be shopping for next week.

However, once out of town the drive was effortless. We're now planning day trips around the area, including Bath, Salisbury and Stonehenge.