1.21.2023 – see taste touch smell hear

see taste touch smell hear
Saturday morning traveling
magic world wide web

I traveled to the town of Market Harborough, near Great Oxendon, this morning and fell for a place named The George.

The George bills itself as A former 16th century inn set in the beautiful surroundings of South Leicestershire.

The George features a traditional village bar and a large patio area to while away your days in the rolling Northamptonshire countryside.

It is, they say, “A place to eat, drink and sleep.

The George offers an Auberge Supper, which I think means supper in the style of an inn or small hotel in France where three days a week, lunchtime and evening, we will surprise you with a different tempting 3 course meal. The Auberge Supper is always full of flavours and at a fantastic price.

The George offers afternoon tea where you can “Treat yourself and your friends to afternoon tea at The George. Homemade sandwiches, scones and cakes are served on the patio or in the dining room overlooking the garden. Indulge in a selection of teas or a glass of champagne.

The bar at the George lets you, “Enjoy a handcrafted real ale or a chilled white wine in our cosy bar. An extensive drinks menu hand-picked from around the world, there is no excuse not to stop in and relax.”

The Sunday Lunch at the George is “Served midday till 3pm every Sunday, you will always find the finest Roast Sirloin of Beef.”

I clicked on an online link for the place and managed to spend a half hour on their website.

I looked at the all the pictures.

I read all the menus.

I could see it.

The photos showed a clean, well lighted place (to steal from Mr. Hemingway).

I could taste it.

Scones, cakes, a glass of champagne, finest roast sirloin of beef.

I could feel it.

I could sense the polished wood and the weight of the crockery.

I could smell it.

The smell of an old bar, of whisky’s and beers and the smell of the kitchen and again the roast meats.

I could hear it.

The clack of crockery and china. Chairs sliding on a wood floor.

It all looked so … civilized.

Far from the maddening crowd.

It is where a warm welcome will always await you.

There was a jingle when I was kid that went, “Let you fingers do the walking in the Yellow Pages.”

I let my mind do my traveling on the world wide web.

I had never heard of Market Harborough or Great Oxendon.

Not quite sure I know where they are.

I feel like I have been there, at the least to The George.

I never left my chair.

Sometimes, better than being there.

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