Week days pass without much incident. The warm air makes us sleepy, but there is no time. Math’s week. The week dedicated to Maths revision. However after the morning passes and the afternoon arrives there comes the time for exploring. And so, the curiosity led us to the jewel of Haslemere: Chatsworth Avenue. This mix of French and English (‘chat’ and ‘worth’) describes what you will find in this ‘quartier’: An avenue worth of cats. We found El Dorado! The headquarters of the cats in Haslemere.
I shall list all the cats with whom we shared adventures.
Phoenix- the story of who he is and how we have found him is known.
Status of relationship: horror beyond measure (from his point of view)
First sighted: no idea
Lives in: the middle of the front garden
Puss (in Boots) is one of the From-distance-spotted cats. Here we were lazing in the sun, when Buni (grandma) exclaimed: ‘A cat, Sara!’ We were cat hunting, so spotting of a cat meant one thing. Run, aim and SHOOT! If you were lucky you could get a decent photo of the running feline. To my great surprise this feline did not run when he saw us approach. We pet its somewhat scrubby deep orange tabby fur and for the first time in a month I was finally able to touch cats. He did however look very disturbed and disgusted when Buni lifted him up to pet him. After twice the lift up experience he learned the lesson all British cats must have learned: Stay away…better safe than sorry!
Bibi does not live in Chatsworth cartier but she still is our beloved friend. On the way to the swimming pool there is a series of houses and in one of these human-shelters lives Bibi: the display cat. Silently she observes the bypassers from her window. This was until we responded to her deep gaze with exclamations of joy. Calm but still astonished to be noticed she stared at us through the window.
Status of relationship: very silent dates
First sighting: no idea
Lives in: her pets house
Beauty: middle beauty
Character: Gargouille without the devilish expression
Lyon is as big as a small dog.I think it (don’t know its gender) is a Norwegian forest cat, dark hazel-nut coloured, fluffy as a cat should be. We spotted it as we were searching for another cat. He stood in the shadow of a tree observing our futile tries to lure another sleeping cat. Then Henri saw it and to our delight it agreed to be petted, but only shortly because it got bored and retreated in the shadows of the garden (an inaccessible place for us hunters).
Status of relationship: sweet and sour. It was never seen again (until now)
First sighting: on a sunny day
Lives in: the shadow of the fence
Sylvester is like the most of the cats and tomcats: white and black. He slept under a car. Not anymore as we arrived. Through lazy opened eyelids he gave us a look of total annoyance. Then he stood up and came at us, but at the edge between reachable and impossible touch he turned around, sliding through the broken fence and settled in front of the door, smiling at our outraged expressions.
Status of relationship: suckers!!! (His point of view)
First sight: Sunday
Lives in: the garden, most likely under the cars
Beauty: very beautiful
Character: Joker (with the evil part without the creepy face, appearance)
Sprinter is as the name says a sprinter. Two times he escaped my phone camera. You can see him sliding hurriedly through the tall grass. You blink once and he’s gone. I saw him once and I could identify his gender from the chubby cheeks, the big robust head and the scars across his nose. I usually run after him shooting and running with the zoom at maximum, but he always escapes… (no photos are available as the ones I took are too blurred and foggy to see him)
Status of relationship: from a distance
Lives in: the streets, definitely a famous tomcat
Character: the ostrich from the looney toons series.
Lives on: a fence
Beauty: Ohhh, soo cute!
Character: watch cute cats on YouTube.
This list can continue as each cat met in Haslemere is special, but the ones I have enumerated are the ones I can always recognise from a glance.
Saturday brought us a sunny day at the Kew Gardens, together with Oana Felipov (our friend, the mom of Karakiris). Kew is a miracle of patience and time. Only there you can understand the meaning of waiting, of slow growing, of life at its most original form. As I sat behind the massive Rhododendron tree, watching the twigs curling behind the flowers I had a funny thought. Theatre is like that tree. On the outside it looks so beautiful and easy, the great big flowers that will once turn into leaves and fall, but the inside is what matters. More beautiful than the outside, as everything is connected for a single purpose: make the outside look fantastic!!!
Some thoughts at Kew :
– I was mind-blown. Why can peacocks fly? It is against the rules!!! A peacock is moving, live art, not a chicken (pigeon, I mean)!!! (I wonder if it poops…) I have read books in which the author described peacocks flying, but I always thought that was just a bluff. But they really fly!!! My life was a lie…
– Ducks, geese and other diabolical “chicken” are actually disguised dogs begging for treats.
– You feel part of the system of life, you are one with the beauties of earth, wind and water. You do not feel mightier nor smaller…You have your place.
And some other photos from our walks in the beautiful scenery of England: