Having woken feeling delicate on Saturday morning, I had not been planning on a bottle of wine. Claire, though, drinks in more moderation whilst at Rydal and chose 'orange' as our home-coming flavour. In fact we only had a glass and a half each - we were both entirely washed out after a week of hedonism, and barely managed the mental capacity demanded by an episode of Midsomer Murders.
Sunday was better. I had the energy to unpack and spent a vast proportion of the afternoon planning things that needed to be planned for my trip to the Olympics on Wednesday and Thursday. Our evening meal was a quiche of garden vegetables - the broad beans being particularly good, and a marmalade bread & butter pudding denied to us at Rydal. The orange wine went well.