WHILE motoring south out of Leatherhead on a lovely sunny afternoon recently, I was soon at the foot of Box Hill and was prompted by hunger pangs to pull up somewhere for a bit to eat.
It was a weekday and happily, the area was not over-run by fast motorbikes.
I suddenly remembered reading that the Burford Bridge Hotel had just re-opened after a huge refurbishment following the devastating floods of last winter.
I made a snap decision to pull up and check it out. Happily, there were plenty of spaces in the hotel car park opposite.
I gazed up at the hotel with its whitewashed walls and hanging baskets of summer flowers in all different shades of pinks and reds.
It was hard to imagine that back in late December the hotel was under four feet of water as the River Mole burst its banks.
I stepped in and was amazed at the difference since the last time I stopped here for a meal a few years back. There was now a palatial feel to the place.
Moments after arriving a personable young man, suited and booted, enquired how he might be able to help me.
"I understand you serve afternoon teas," I said.
"Yes, we do," he replied, asking if I'd like to sit in the garden as the weather was so nice.
I followed him to the patio and gleaned he hailed from Portugal.
I took a seat in a comfortable basket-weave chair and sat at a glass-topped table on the patio from where there were views of the wooded slopes of Box Hill and the verdant hotel garden.
A bird sang merrily nearby as if it was springtime.
After a while, the tranquillity was interrupted by the arrival of a group of chirpy ladies.
"I think we could push the tables to make one big one," suggested one of the party.
It soon transpired that this chatty bunch were celebrating one of the ladies' birthdays.
A mature black-suited waiter began laying out the elongated table with plates, white linen serviettes and champagne glasses.
One of the group, bearing a white blouse, shocking pink trousers and black party shoes, helped prepare the celebrations.
I stared at the large flagstones beneath the table while the women caught up on their news and views. After 10 minutes, a young attentive waitress appeared and enquired of my order. She ran through a selection of afternoon teas that were available. I opted for some sandwiches but it was hard to choose between smoked salmon or egg and cress. The waitress offered a perfect solution – a finger buffet of both types.
Soon, a pot of tea was served and I was able to sit back and enjoy the rather upmarket ambience.
The ladies were having a great time. Rather!
"You two take a seat while I get the champagne," said one.
"Champagne at a quarter to four!" replied another. They all chuckled.
Three glittering birthday balloons were tied to a chair and rose up, meandering from side to side when there was an occasion breath of wind on an otherwise calm afternoon.
There was much giggling from the gaggle of girls gathered in the garden.
"Cheers everybody! Cheers!"
"Cheers" came the vociferous reply.
"It's lovely to see you all."
"Lovely to see you, too!"
"It's really nice, isn't it? Mmmmm!", exclaimed one of the ladies, sipping champagne.
A waiter came up and cracked a few jokes.
"Where have you come from?" he asked.
One of the parties replied: "Leatherhead."
A bright pink party hat was produced from a bag and placed on one of the women's heads. It had coloured lights on it which flashed.
The sun dimmed a little, the clouds thickened, but it stayed warm.
The waitress arrived with my neatly arranged finger sandwiches and side salad.
She was from Italy and had been in the country for a year.
"Do you like it?" I asked.
"Yes, I do she said. "My favourite thing is the green grass in summer. In my country it is brown in summer."
She told me she had been working at the hotel when the floods struck on Christmas Eve and the fire brigade had to come and rescue people in dinghies.
"Everything was floating around – the tables and chairs – everything."
The ladies were thoroughly enjoying their bash.
"My lovely daughter bought me this incredible hair-dryer. She arrived one evening and said: 'This is for you. I've bought you this. Mine is so good'.
"And the next day I went off and bought a new Dyson."
A late arrival was then greeted.
"Oh hello!" they all cried out. The ladies hugged.
"Hello, darling. Mwaw!", said one, planting a kiss on the other's cheek.
They carried on chatting.
". . . So you were still in your heels? Oh no! No, no, no!"
"Hang on, I must get a picture of those gorgeous little objets d'art on the table."
