Sunday in Ireland

Still away celebrating the fortieth wedding anniversary of old university friends (OHFs). After a long late evening that included a Spanish buffet, a quiz on our hosts' friends' activities,

• (who has an o-gauge in his garden?
• who has a dog called Ceviz?
• who're vegetarians?)

and a sing song round the campfire, we repaired to our various dormitories and bunks. People worried about waking each other in the night.

"Do you snore?"
"I have to get up in the night - I'm sorry."
"I always have to get up in the night."

We allayed each others' fears and set to sleep. At 3.30 in the morning, my new friend in the top bunk quietly crept down her ladder, and..

kicked over the bedside stool of my friend sleeping in the next bunk. Over went her alarm clock, book and contact lenses. On went someone's torch. Muttered apologies all round, giggles from some of us. Since we were awake, four out of the six of us then got up and went to loo. One of the loos didn't lock very well - there was a man in it. Given that we're all old enough to be celebrating decades of marriage, you might not have expected this much activity in the wee small hours. Or perhaps it was the wee bit that was the problem.

Morning dawned. We anticipated a long or a short walk. Some stalwarts set off to trek to the top of Powercourt Waterfalls. Others (like me) just reconnoitred the river, leaving some including the children for a nice swim and a splash. It was a lovely spot so not surprising that it was rumoured that some of us women had been skinny dipping that that morning. I came back to the hostel and sat in the sun, listening to interesting chat, looking over the hills, idly watching a helicopter.

The swimmers returned with our hostess. Sadly, our hostess's mobile phone rang with bad news. Three of the stalwarts had gone even further ahead of the main party and one had collapsed with a suspect heart attack. The helicopter had picked the invalid and her husband up, and taken them to hospital. The third was walking back on her own.

Fortunately, an hour later we heard from the husband in the hospital that heart attack victim was alive and well, and having tests. We were able to take the bus back to the station in peace. It had been a lovely weekend.

What was lovely?

• The Saturday afternoon weather was sunny, not rainy like during the morning walk.
• The meal was delicious.
• OHFs' friends were as lovely, as interesting and as bright people as our OHFs, people you'd like to get to know better.
• The honeymoon suite was lovely - comfortable, and fun.
• The hostel was clean and functional.
• The green countryside was fascinating, smelt and looked beautiful.
• The Irish transport (DART, taxis, buses) worked and went on time.

Saturday in Ireland

Am I tired!

Husband suggested we take a stroll to Powerscourt, this ancient Irish house, with wonderful gardens. We'd need to walk back and catch the bus - not far. But he thought we should walk round the back way and be there quicker.

"By coffee time"

he promised me.

"That's eleven o'clock?"

I checked. Yes, fine.

At ten o'clock we leave, down narrow lanes with high hedges. I can't see a thing. We're not there by eleven, and then he starts to read his map. We're not there by twelve. We're not there by one o'clock. We arrive around 1.15, and I don't get to sit down until 1.30. We must have walked nine miles. And husband's in the doghouse again.

We lunched, then sat around a bit - my legs being too tired to explore the gardens, enjoyed a cup of tea on the terrace, then got a taxi back to the hostel, where all the other guests were beginning to congregate, ready for the party - our friends' fortieth wedding anniversary.

Now we are allocated bunk beds in dormitories. There are seventy guests, so I assume lots of us are in dormitories. I'm in the girls dormitory and our husbands are in the boys dormitory next door. I bag a bed and start to make it up when two jolly women arrive. I've already met them in the hall, greeting long friends. But now I see them together I realise they look very much the same.

"We're twins."

I spend the next few hours meeting friends of our friends, memorising names, comparing how we know know them. I videoing meeting and then the speeches, and the song that two of the granddaughters sing. I'll put them all on a CD as a memento for friends.

Champagne drunk and toasts made we repair for the meal - a Spanish buffet

Ashridge walk

I skived off this afternoon for a couple of hours walk with retired husband round the Ashridge estate. The bluebells enticed me over there, especially as even the newspaper had a photo of them yesterday. There are other flowers there, like this white one - what is it?

If you know what you're looking for, you'll know where to find wild garlic leaves. This is the only time of the year to get them and they are delicious. We found them. I picked and ate about half a dozen. Yum.

Coombe Hill

I worked at home this morning. This afternoon husband, daughter and I went blackberrying up Coombe Hill, where, despite living here for eight years, I'd not yet been. It was a lovely day for a walk, neither too hot, nor wet. We saw loads of butterflies and flowers: St John's Wort, scabious, vetch, rosebay willow herb, harebells. I don't know what a yellow flower I saw was but a purple one was greater knapweed. I got stung by a nettle. We saw something like a red oakapple growth on roses, like a lot of strings all tied together, perhaps hiding a bug. I wonder what made those.

Husband is really good at recognising butterflies. We saw a peacock butterfly and a yellow primstone and a meadow brown. Husband collected loads of blackberries for a pie. Daughter and I ate blackberries.

Then we walked down to Rumseys in Wendover and ordered vanilla ice espresso, hot chocolate, shortbread and raspberry pavlova. Finally we stopped off at the Chiltern Brewery and bought some beer.

That was as good an afternoon holiday as any!