Chez Kay
Andrew Kay salutes the elderly
When I first moved out to salubrious Saltdean there was dissent amongst my friends. Some thought it brave, some thought it foolhardy, but universally the opinion was that Saltdean was full of old people. It was not, you need to go far further afield to find high densities of pensioners.
This summer I discovered where many of them go as I decided to take my annual holidays in the UK. It was partly circumstance and partly conscience. I will not claim that I was actively trying to reduce my carbon size tens in any way, but I was pleased that by accident I was actually doing so.
‘‘Some thought it brave, some foolhardy, universally the opinion was that Saltdean was full of old people’’
I ended up camping on the edge of Wiltshire and North Somerset with the lovely Marian. Marian is like my big sister, totally judgmental and utterly forgiving. Everyone should have a Marian.
In each others company we can while away endless hours playing Scrabble, Snatch or Elasund – yes we are board game geeks – and with a few beers and some rather nice nibbles we are as happy as Larry. This Larry must have been a really happy chap to have become a national bench mark for people’s moods.
I digress. As well as playing games, shopping for local foods and beers, we also did some heritage. We popped into the local Tourist Information Centre and left with a terrible amount of paper. It seemed that we were in National Trust country and the choices were wide.
The next day we headed for Laycock, an entire village owned by the Trust and a popular film location for costume dramas. It was also home to Fox Talbot who lived in the Abbey, a building of extraordinary ugliness and beauty combined.
Anyway Laycock turned out to be crumbly central, more elderly people per square metre than anywhere I have ever visited. The roads were literally littered with walking frames and everywhere people were pausing to catch their breath. I even noticed that the pub menu had a high percentage of dishes requiring little jaw action.
Don’t get me wrong I like the company of old people, I am almost one myself. Above all I love there strange outlook on life.
As we ambled through this heritage haven we happened to overhear the most wonderful conversation. ‘‘Has Dorothy got over loosing her Ted yet?’’ ‘‘No, have you not heard, she has started to carry a teddy bear around with her everywhere she goes.’’ ‘‘A Teddy, how sweet, in his memory?’’ ‘‘Well sort of, she has stuffed it with his ashes.’’
