One november weekend

We took a long weekend this past weekend. On Friday morning, we headed for Taunton and the cinema and Harry Potter. Popcorn and latte for breakfast whilst watching our trusty threesome begin their (sometimes tortuous and sometimes tedious occasionally exciting and even once rather touching) witchcraft related road trip to locate the horcruxes before either Harry or Voldermort wins. Definitely a film where you needed to have read the book. I would recommend reading it again before you go, by the way. Some while in, Dobby appeared. Dobby, I thought to myself, I must have misheard. I remembered him dead, books ago, weeping silent tears as I read him giving his life to aid Harry Potter, repaid by the digging of his grave by hand, not magic. Yet die Dobby did, in this book not the last. And then it ended, part way through, the kind of climatic end to half time as it were. And a year yet, until the finale.

Lunch in Taunton (don't bother with the place we tried, should you ever be in Taunton, looking for lunch and thinking that the olive tree looked in any way appealing. The soup was disappointing, watery, inedible. We, politely of course, pointed this out. The waitress pretty much ignored us, smugly charging us full price. Downstairs, the owner informed us that it was us that was lacking, not his soup. We left, outraged. Vowed never to return.

Drove north, to the Cotswolds, to Stratford and the naffest hired house I have seen in a long time. Decor from the 80s, child sized twin beds in every room. Bar the master suit, intended by a friend as a romantic gesture to his (relatively) new girlfriend. How romantic they felt in a bed dwarfed by dark floor to ceiling shiny wardrobes on every wall save the doorway to the ensuite, which had no door, I never did find out. No loo roll. Charged a non refundable £60 fuel charge on top of the rent plus any electricity above that - and being that they charged 17p a unit and there were no draw-able curtains - it was. Another place I shan't be returning (or recommending - New Inn House between Evesham and Straftord in case you should be planning a visit to the midlands).

And then, the wedding. A lovely, winter-y candle lit celebration of love and friendship and hip hop karaoke. Although there was less of the actual karaoke - that all went down at the engagement party. This was a hog roast in a converted barn with a massive open fire and old fashioned sweets on tables. Where best men read strange christmas carol style speeches and where french husbands watched bemused as people queued for the cheese table. Where there was a hat line in the foyer to the loo and cowshed toiletries and candles which said 'love'. And slightly drunken aunties posed suggestively for the photobooth which was on a balcony.

And where I wore my beautiful, Anathema Design-ed headpiece and a vintage crystal beaded velvet dress and won £20 on the wager for the length of the best mans speech.