Journey's end brought the Edinburgh Boy and I to the home of friends not far from the North Berwick coast. And here, my amazing god-daughter, Ms Gauchina (the mother of not one but two sets of twins - born just 19 months apart), was masterminding a surprise 60th birthday party for her mother and my good friend, Mrs Gaucho.
Everyone chipped in, Mr Gaucho doing last-minute supermarket runs ferrying in mega-bags of ice; various family members tracking down and installing a replacement gazebo; Gauchino Major and his girlfriend (a talented chef) arriving with the most amazing chocolate birthday cakes, and Mrs Gaucho's cousin, a Devon resident like me, in the kitchen. So I joined her in chopping, slicing and stirring to produce industrial sized quantities of taboulleh and insalata caprese etc etc.
Ms Gauchina was worried that not everything would be ready for Mrs Gaucho's arrival (timed precisely for 6.10pm). 'Don't worry,' I said - reassurance being one of a godmother's duties, 'you'll be amazed, especially at just how much we can do in the last 15 minutes.' As, indeed, we did.
So when Mrs Gaucho made her unsuspecting entrance, she couldn't quite believe that over 70 friends and family members, from every part of the country (or should that be countries?), not to mention hordes of small people and at least five dogs, were cheering her on.
To quote Noel Coward, it really was 'a marvellous party', enjoyed by everyone, especially by Mrs Gaucho herself. Old acquaintances were renewed - it was years since some of us had seen each other - and old conversations were resumed as easily as if they had been interrupted only hours earlier. Fizz flowed; there were speeches that had us laughing (and quietly suppressing the occasional tear); the tables groaned with good food; the music of our youth - and beyond - filled the air, and the East Lothian weather was kind to us.
It was the perfect way to say 'happy birthday' to Mrs Gaucho. She and Mr Gaucho are renowned not only for their hospitality but for the way in which, over the years, they have invited people to stay with them in their home, often for long periods. As a result, their own immediate family has been extended many times over. And, judging by her skills in orchestrating the party, it looks as if my lovely god-daughter has inherited that hospitality gene.
The Edinburgh Boy and I eventually sloped off around 1.00 am, leaving a sprinkling of die-hards, who were determined to party on, and we slept the good sleep of well-entertained travellers.
We headed off late the following day, after our morning walk and a mammoth post-party team effort clean-up in the kitchen, just as a bevy of guests were reappearing for Sunday brunch and others were still sleeping off the effects of the night before. It was so tempting to stay but I knew that there were 'miles to go before I sleep' and more Cumbrian fells to be walked before the day was out . . .
By the time we arrived home in Devon two days later, we had also squeezed in a long overdue visit to my daughter and her husband in the leafy Chilterns, and we had clocked up 1,000 miles, including detours, in the trusty Subaru. And they were absolutely worth it, those miles and detours. Every single one of them.
What a great party. Those chocolate cakes do look amazing. What is the perfectly round white thing on top? Insalade caprese - what I ate for a starter every night I was in Italy! Someone was just telling me the other day that there was an amazing charity shop in North Berwick. Must go up and check that out some time. Yikes - 2.5 hours each way between North Berwick & Newcastle. Easier to drive!
Posted by: Shelley | 07 August 2010 at 05:35 PM
They're edible white roses, Shelley, but I can't remember what they were made of. I must ask my good-daughter about that shop . . .
Posted by: 60 Going On 16 | 07 August 2010 at 06:11 PM