Our initial experience of getting up close and personal with the Angler’s Cottage was a somewhat spartan affair to say the least. The cold empty rooms remained cold and empty as we had nothing to put in them. This was on account of Pickfords announcing they were unable to deliver our two lorry loads (how did two people collect so much stuff!) of belongings for at least ten days. We resorted to indoor camping!
We were forced into buying a saucepan and a frying pan in order for Nicky to rustle up some memorable gourmet meals, and our new neighbour took pity on us by loaning a pair of old inflatable air beds. The so-called double bed only really accommodated me, while the other, an allegedly single sized bed was presumably designed to cater for someone the size of a bush pigmy who no doubt would have been utterly unfazed by the fact that during the hours of darkness the air bed noiselessly deflated itself. Our own meagre possessions amounted to a collapsible card table, a recently restored piano stool and a newly acquired foot stool from Bakewell market. During mealtimes Nicky sat aloft on the piano stool, thus having a ‘bird’s eye’ view, albeit rather uninteresting of the top of my head. I on the other hand squatted on the foot stool having an equally uninteresting ‘worm’s eye’ view of her inner nasal passages. (Okay, so worms don’t have eyes just before you start getting too smart!) Suddenly we were unexpectedly catapulted into the world of civilised living when the landlady from the adjacent Angler’s Rest presented us with two conservatory chairs to sit on. Now things were really starting to look up. We could now peer at each other across the card table through the blinding glare of a pair of inappropriately angled spot-lights. (Well of course I tried to adjust them but one simply snapped off.) They were just the tip of the iceberg for everything was either very old and/or very worn. It would all have to go.