Staircase in the garden at Upton House

Bank holidays are a pain in the arse!

Anywhere you go is packed full of too many miserable people, all trying to have an enjoyable time, but are all pissed off by the fact that there are too many miserable people.
Except old people of course. They seem to have a great time wherever they go, totally oblivious of the fact that asking the lady at the restaurant counter the price of every single cake in the place is beginning to back the already long queue right outside the restaurant door and into the garden.

Yes, it was another visit to a National Trust property. Normally a pleasant experience - but not if you want a cup of tea on a Bank holiday.

I cannot begin to tell you how frustrating it is waiting in line for 35 minutes while the two well-meaning but totally disorganised NT septugenarians spent most of their time waiting for the third , who was on the till, to fart about processing peoples payment cards - but not until she had got their drinks.
So people who had eventually got to the counter to be served their icecreams and main course meat-and-two-veg from the first two, finally found themselves paying the third one for a plate of cold stodge and a puddle.

Thankfully. there is no way that the old folks could get up or down these garden steps, so Flick and I spent a lot of time at the botton.