Walking Around Sevenoaks

Bluebells everywhere!

I went for a walk last weekend with some family and their friends. Someone from my aunt’s workplace organized a few colleagues, and my aunt and uncle invited my mum and I along. We happily accepted, and motored over to Sevenoaks together. My cousin, Steph, tagged along too, so we had a good time catching up: we’ve managed to miss each other at family gatherings several times over the past year. She’s mid-uni, so we’re at similar places in life, and had a good natter about the things we’re up to and what we’re planning for the future.

We had just visited Stan, my cousin’s grandfather, and headed further into Sevenoaks to meet with our fellow walkers. We were the first to arrive, so we wandered around, peering at some beautiful gardens and houses. I spotted a Secret Garden-type door, and peered through. What I was rewarded with was the sight of a beautiful garden. The house had a “For Sale” sign outside, so I surreptitiously took a few photos, reckoning that if the owners spotted us, I would pretend that I was an interested buyer.

Secret Garden

There were about thirteen of us in total, a mixture of some fifty-plus seasoned walkers, along with their children, about fourteen years old, and of course Steph and I straddling the divide as the oldest of the younger generation. Even though thirteen is touted as an “unlucky number”, since we weren’t heading to Smaug’s cave, we encountered no mishaps. If you don’t get the Tolkien reference, go and read The Hobbit, immediately.

It was a good walk, not a stroll, by any means, but not a hike. It was a nice, relaxed, chatty one. The younger kids were a little bored (are we done yet? Can we go home yet?), but I got to know my aunt’s co-workers, and more about the British social system, since they’re all public servants. It’s a bureaucratic, generally unrewarding system, but it is necessary. It needs an overhaul, but at least it exists. It was interesting to see it from the perspective of the people who are helping to administrate the system, one often reads news items on people who are using the system, with rather overblown titles like “MOTHER OF TWELVES GETS FIFTY MILLION KAZILLION POUNDS AND A MANSION, SHE’S ON THE DOLE, UGH, GOVERNMENT”, but there are just as many people who genuinely require the support system, too. And then the people who work inside it get to see both sides of the coin.

The walk was a little convoluted – we started at one pub, walked for two hours, and then split ways, one group to walk a few minutes back to the pub we had parked at, and the others walking briskly to the we would be eating at, so that we’d all meet at the same place. It was well timed, actually – I went with the walking group, and after strolling another fifteen minutes, we arrived at The Chaser Inn, sat down to order drinks, and in came the drivers, who had just pulled up outside.

We followed the orange highlighted circle in the middle.

More bluebells

The gentleman who planned our walk, Patrick, or as he was aptly nicknamed – PatNav, led us expertly through the woods. We I always find that I glue my gaze to the floor in an attempt to avoid muddy patches and tripping over, but the walk was too pretty not to keep looking up and around. We went through some gorgeous fields. 

 

 We also passed by an old farmhouse, a stately home, a church and cemetery, and all the lush greenery and flowers were beginning to bloom. There were bluebells everywhere. We even sniffed out some wild garlic! It was a proper English walk, in other words. Wordsworth might not approve, but we certainly enjoyed ourselves!

This was apparently a Dubai Sheikh's driveway. @_@

Ye Olde Church

Arriving for a well-deserved meal!

The pub was fairly large, with a number of different rooms, such as a covered, heated patio, which has quite a French bistro feel, because of the way it’s laid out. We were placed in a more traditional area; bookcases filled with old tomes, a fireplace to our backs. There were a few other families around, the Inn was rather busy, but still with a laid back, family atmosphere.

The Chaser Inn had lovely food. The more you know me, the more you will be aware that I am one of those hated people who both takes pictures of her food, and critiques it, and will gladly discuss it with fellow diners for about three hours on end. I love gastro-pubs, markets, street-food, Michelin (I’M SO CLASSY, RIGHT?), mamak stalls – the whole shebang. I also eat about the same amount as three shaggy bears that have just emerged from hibernation (I’m also as grumpy as a trio of bears if I’m hungry, so it really is an apt metaphor). So. This gives me scope to sample just about everything, and steal everyone’s food on the pretense that I’m a food critic.

 Mama Laulet and I shared an asparagus starter. It certainly helped take the edge off my ravenous appetite, and the puree under was gorgeous: I could have eaten five times the amount. The quail scotch egg was interesting – a tad overcooked, but still very edible.

Mama Laulet's lam shoulder

My slow cooked pork belly had a lovely, crispy, well-seasoned skin. It’s making my stomach rumble just thinking about it. Unfortunately, that meant that the meat itself suffered a little, and was quite dry, but I just mopped it up with loads of sauce. Cider sauce is a new one on me, and as a cider fan, I can’t complain. The scallops were a little rubbery, but there were definitely more positives about the dish than negatives. 

My mum’s lamb shoulder fared better – as you can see, a generous herb-encrusted portion! The potatoes dauphine weren’t bad either. I “helped” her eat it, by quite a lot, actually! Meaning that I finished it off once she showed signs of filling up. Which in turn is code for: I ate about half.

Pork belly, crunchy skin!

Gratuitous extra shot

My mum actually has a knack for choosing what I’d want to eat – for dessert, she had this wonderful, moist, orange and pistachio cake with clotted cream. I chose a raspberry pannacotta with accompanying sorbet, which was probably a little too heavy for my rapidly filling stomach. I guess I’ll just have to go back and try it again sometime! 

Mama Laulet's dessert

Raspberry pannacotta and sorbet

I’m doing as many English-y things as I can before I leave, stocking up on my Western hobbies and memories before I head over to Japan and start scoffing down sushi and drinking green tea, or learning ikebana or something. Two months to go!