The idea came from a member who said, rather wistfully, that the only time she read a whole book was on holiday. So we booked a house, packed far too many paperbacks and tried to make a weekend out of it.
This is what it looked like, in the order it happened. The photos at the top of the page change on their own, if you wait.
The first morning
Nobody had slept well, in the good way. By seven the kettle was on, by eight the first chapter was done and by nine someone had already declared the weekend a triumph. We read in the garden, in the hall and, in one case, in a wardrobe.
The house rules
- Phones go in a bowl on the piano.
- Nobody asks what anyone else is reading until lunch.
- Whoever finishes first makes the tea.
What we packed
Eleven members brought forty-one books between them. Some of the ones that actually got read:
On the way there
We took the slow train and watched this on the way, which is the sort of thing that happens when a book club gets together with a long journey and a good signal.
Where we ended up
The house was an hour from home. On the way back we stopped at the same two places we stop at every month, because some habits are the whole point.
- The Cobbled Kettle
Tea, cake and the first debrief.
- Priory Park Pavilion
Where the last of the light was spent.
Next year
Come with us next time
We are booking the same house for the first weekend of next June. Eleven beds, one very long table and a bowl for your phone.
If you were there: thank you, and sorry about the wardrobe. If you were not, you were missed, and there is a place with your name on it.
