Rosie’s Travelling Tea Shop. Rebecca Raisin
Читать онлайн книгу.
of nowhere, it’s all part of the fun! But first you have to give yourself some time to get acclimatised.’
I guess I hadn’t thought of exploring as much as I had about escaping. What would I see? Life changing sunsets, a galaxy of stars, water that runs backwards. I pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.
‘Let’s head off to Wales on Monday?’ I say, deciding that will give me enough time to consult my maps, speak to Oliver from the online forum for advice and double check I’ve done everything I can in terms of van maintenance.
‘Perfect. The Hay Festival is next month and in the interim there’s other local fairs we could set up shop at.’
My strength is my love of fragrant tea and hearty food and the absolute joy I find in making it. How can anyone resist my baking when I pour my heart and soul into what I do? Or taking a big sip of a spicy nutty tea blend that invokes a place yet travelled? This has the potential to be life changing for me.
And now I have a travelling companion. A feat in itself.
‘Wales it is.’ A place I’ve never seen.
What is this new world? The lost part of me shimmies with anticipation.
Later that day, I sit on my bed and email Oliver to double check I haven’t missed anything. I’m mindful not to bother Aria with every single thought that pops into my head, so I figure friendly Oliver can field some of my questions. His reply beeps back almost instantly.
Hi Rosie,
You’ve ticked all the boxes as far as I can see. Just make sure you double check with the council before ‘popping up’ anywhere. Some councils require certain approvals and health checks since you’re selling food. Let me know if you run into trouble and I should be able to point you in the right direction at least. Safe travels.
Oliver
The paperwork side of things is a lot more time consuming than I’d imagined, but that’s what spreadsheets are made for, right? I make a list of possible fairs and places to ‘pop up’ around Wales and enter all the relevant info into an excel spreadsheet so I’ll have it on hand when we need it. I send Oliver a thank you email and fall into bed wondering what Callum is doing right now. Does he miss me? I fall asleep with him on my mind.
* * *
By Sunday I’m as ready as I can be. A map is taped to the wall, and coloured thumb tacks mark our route. I’ve allowed for weather delays, car troubles, and sourced where to get fresh produce and supplies to cook with as we go from place to place. I’ve watched countless YouTube videos about car maintenance and feel confident I will at least know the basics if I break down. Aria’s showed me how to do an oil change in return for some basic cooking classes so she can learn how to switch off the pan one step before charcoal, which is probably more a life-preserving measure than anything. I’ve never seen anyone burn so much food before!
I feel strong, capable, and enjoy learning more skills, even on the go.
We plan to set off early the next day, and I’m jittery with anticipation.
But I’m prepared this time. I have engine oil, the flat tyre has been fixed and refitted and a wheel alignment done on Poppy. There’s an extra car jack, a spare canister of petrol, oil, water and a maintenance kit. All our permits and insurances are sorted thanks to Aria, who it turns out is a dab hand at all that mind-numbingly tedious legal side of things, completed online without much angst by her. Council approval is a headache but Aria knows how to apply quickly and efficiently and which places to avoid that have fussier rules and regulations and are likely to decline us.
As I check my bank balance, which has taken a hit from all the extras for Poppy, my email beeps. I open it to find a message from Oliver.
Briefly, I worry he’s going to ask me to sign up or join, and my funds will take another beating. He’s been handy when I’ve had lots of little incidental queries crop up that I didn’t want to keep bothering Aria about. So I suppose it’s fair if he expects to recoup financially from all my questions.
Hi Rosie,
Just checking in to see how you’re enjoying Bristol? I’ve been busy with work, I had two weddings to shoot over the weekend and now I’m editing the pics which is the most time-consuming aspect of it all.
I wait for his sales pitch, join today and get the fee fifty percent off! I keep reading.
After that I’m going to hike Llanberis Path, to the summit of Snowdon, which I’ve always wanted to do. It’s meant to be like a little lost Eden. I get cabin fever if I’m cooped up in the van too long, so this should do the trick.
Safe travels,
Oliver
No sales pitch. No join now. No sign up for this or that promotion. Maybe Oliver is just interested in other people’s journeys? But what is it about all these nomads who want to climb the summit of rocky outcrops, and see the world from the highest perch? Perhaps I’ve spent too long in the kitchen on my feet. In my opinion, the best method of relaxation is of the horizontal-on-the-couch-kind. I grab at my muffin-top (a mere side effect of being a chef!) and wonder if I need to partake of a bit of one-foot-in-front-of-the-other action?
I type Llanberis Path, Snowdon into a search engine and my enthusiasm flees. It’s a six-hour return hike for a 14.6 kilometre trek to 3300 feet. It’s practically Everest in my opinion. And I couldn’t imagine myself taking on such an arduous climb.
Hi Oliver,
Haven’t seen much of Bristol yet (besides the hardware shop!) but Aria mentioned something about visiting town later for a wander. Getting my head around all of the logistics of travel and all that entails. Aria has been an enormous help. We leave Monday for Wales. Can’t believe I’m doing this but here I am!
Good luck with the hike, sounds like an epic journey.
Rosie
After I’ve sent the email and tidied the tiny space I use for a desk I head outside to find Aria. Her van door is wide open and she’s in her usual repose, feet up, nose in book, half cups of tea circling her as though she’s incanting a spell with them. A pot of baked beans bubbles on the stove so I go and give it a stir, not surprised to find them sticking to the bottom already.
‘The bookworm in her natural habitat,’ I say, envying her ability to immerse herself in reading the way she does. For some reason I always feel this strange guilt if I read for too long, as if I should be doing something more constructive with my time. It eventually gets the better of me and I pack the book away and clean and tidy, sort my things, whereas Aria can lose an entire day between the pages of a book. I make a note to schedule some time expressly for reading, no interruptions, no excuses.
She yawns and stretches herself languorously, before setting her book down.
‘This bookworm needs a bit of fresh air. Want to go to Clifton Village?’
‘What about your erm … lunch?’ The congealed mess doesn’t look very appetising to me but Aria doesn’t seem to mind that sort of thing.
‘I’ve burnt it again, haven’t I?’
‘Yes.’
She laughs. ‘Let’s go out instead.’
I settle in the passenger seat of the little bookshop and find it comforting that Aria’s van belches and backfires just as much as Poppy does. Maybe these old vans all have their quirks and it’s just a matter of translating their meanings.
As we chug along, I relax into the seat, watching the world flick by, so different to the vista I had in London. A silence falls between us, and I debate whether to fill it with something inane or just let it be. Aria doesn’t seem the type to mind either way, so instead of mumbling and bumbling I keep quiet and enjoy the