Autumn in the English countryside.

'I'm back, I'm back', I said to exactly nobody, as after an absence of approximately six month I returned to the UK in the middle of the most toxic political climate possible. Excited I most certainly was, but hardly anyone seemed to share this, with the weather deciding to rain heavily just to show its disdain. Still I coped admirably, even if I say so myself, especially as my good friends B & C - yes, avid reader, you do know them - invited me to spend the weekend at their welcoming home in the Surrey countryside. The weather, however, shared none of our enthusiasm and continued wet, cold and fairly miserable.

What a difference a day makes! Sunday was cold, yes, but sunny and glowing, with Mother Nature showing off her amazing autumnal colours. My kind hosts - or should I label them torturers - had, as is their wont, arranged for a long and arduous walk up and down a portion of the South Downs, slipping and sliding in the abundant mud, only made bearable by the thought of an excellent lunch to follow in a country hostelry of their choice.

So up we went, slipping and sliding, in the company of their neighbour and friend L., whose husband had just jetted off to the other side of the world, seemingly to avoid seeing me again, a sentiment which I sometimes share, especially in the morning. Despite B&C's apparent penchant for getting lost - their claim, not mine - and some rather unusual moments full of mud and doubt - down another hill we went to successfully reach our destination. I must admit that taking off my by now extremely muddy borrowed Wellies (wellington boots to the uninitiated) in order to join civilised people for lunch, then pulling them back on, was at least as hard as the walking for me, though a constant source of amusement for my friends. Oh how I appreciated their encouraging (!) comments!

The hostelry was indeed welcoming, pleasant and stylish, though rather quiet for Sunday lunch, which suited us just fine. What suited me not at all was the fact that I couldn't over-indulge, especially on the wine, as we had to make our way back to the car over a similarly challenging route, not something doable with a bottle or two of wine in the system; so, alas, I was relatively abstemious. The food ranged from excellent - check out the photo of the lovely artichoke soup - to ok as far as the roast of the day went, with a pleasant chocolate mousse for me to finish with, ensuring no calories were lost on the day; a pleasant glass of white Gascon wine - Domaine du Tariquet Classic - allowed the food to slip down sweetly, though I yearned for further glasses that were destined to never appear. The company was excellent, relaxed and interesting.

My battle with the wellies, however, soon recommenced and was equally unpleasant, but we were soon on our way with only a few snide remarks by my kindly group of friends. Luckily the route back was fortunately easier, less muddy and precarious than the way out, so in failing light we ended back at the car park. The colours that in bright sunlight earlier had been vibrant were now less bright but equally beautiful, darker and deeper.

And, would you believe it, I had to take the muddy boots off again which, while slightly easier than putting them on, was not fun. Soon we were cocooned in C's supercar making our way back to Surrey, tired, replete, happy.

Autumn in England's countryside is full of colour, mud, dead leaves and enchantment hard to equal. This green and pleasant land has beauty to spare whatever the season, but I find autumn especially alluring, the colours just gorgeous, the prelude to the starkness of winter. My love affair with the UK continues, thanks largely to the kindness and generosity of my friends that allows me not only to live the beauty at close quarters but to satisfy my foodie instincts at the same time.

Have I ever mentioned how fortunate I am for the existence of all these people in my life, especially now that I need their support so much?