Chapter 5 (First part) A COUNTRY CHRISTMAS

In the United States, when I was young, the same films were on television every Christmas.
One film was my favourite and watched it every year.
It was called Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and it was about a beautiful, old car that could fly and took the owner to a magic land.
The story was great, but what I really wanted was that car.
Fifteen years later - last Christmas Eve - and my dream had come true!
I was driving (well, I was in the passenger seat) through the English countryside in a 1925 Bentley, a beautiful English car.
It wasn't the same car, but it reminded me of my favorite film and I felt like a child again.
I was wearing a leather hat, a leather jacket and goggles.
It was very, very cold and the sky was grey, but I was the happiest man on earth.

One of my friends from university, Nicola Caswell, who is English, had invited me home to her parents' house for Christmas.
My parents were in the States and I hadn't made any plans for Christmas.
She told me her family liked celebrating the festive period "properly" and would be happy to show me an English Christmas.
"But I don't want you to be bored," she told me.
"Bored?
How could I be bored?" I replied.
"I've never spent Christmas in England before and I would love to go to your parents' house."
"My parents live in a little village in the country, a long way from the nearest town, which is called Stamford.
It's a beautiful little town and there are lots of old houses and churches, but it's not very exciting."
"I'd love to go and spend Christmas with your family.
" You've told me so much about them.
I'll have a wonderful time, I know I will," I insisted.
Nicola had told me about her family, but she hadn't told me about her father's old Bentley - it didn't occur to her that I would be interested.
She had grown up with it and for her, it wasn't important.
But going for a drive in the Bentley was the best Christmas present I'd had for many years.
We drove through narrow country roads to a village where the members of the Bentley Drivers Club were having a Christmas reunion.
We were the first people to arrive and we parked outside the pub, next to the village green, an oval area of grass in the middle of the village.
There was a duck [1]pond and old stone houses and suddenly, there were three more Bentleys coming down the road towards us.
"Look, Nicola!" I cried.
"Yes, I know.
What would you like to drink?"
How could she be so calm?
This was all so exciting!
"Quick, take a photo of me in the car," I said and gave her my camera.
You're funny!" she said, as she took my photo.

"You're like a little boy!"
"I don't care!
I'm having a great time - and you were worried that I'd be bored!"
I spent the next hour outside with Hugh Caswell, Nicola's father, talking to the owners of the Bentleys and looking at the cars and their engines.
Then, when we were all so cold that we couldn't talk, we went inside the pub, sat next to a big fire and drank a pint of good British beer.
It was like so many films I had seen about England, but this was real!
It was dinner time on Christmas Eve, but something was wrong.
Where were the roast turkey, the roast potatoes and the vegetables, the traditional food for a British Christmas?
We had a nice meal, but I was disappointed because Nicola had told me that her family celebrated Christmas "properly".
While we were having coffee, I whispered to Nicola, "Listen.
I don't want to be impolite, but doesn't your family like turkey?"
"What do you mean?"
She looked surprised.
"Why didn't we have turkey for dinner?"
Nicola started to laugh and then she explained that in England, they eat the traditional meal on Christmas Day, not on Christmas Eve like we do in Spain.
I felt so stupid!
I had forgotten that that was what we used to do when we lived in the United States.
Of course Nicola told her parents and her sister, Claire, and they all throught it was very funny.
"Don't worry," Claire said, "we've got a turkey for tomorrow and it's enormous!"

Summary: In this part of the chapter, Antonio tells us how one of his friends from university had invited him home to her parents' house for Christmas. She told him her family liked celebrating the festive period "properly" and would be happy to show him an English Christmas. She hadn't told him about her father's old Bentley – “it didn't occur to her that I would be interested”. He went to a village where the members of the Bentley Drivers Club were having a Christmas reunion. Finally, it was dinner time on Christmas Eve, but something was wrong. Where were the roast turkey, the roast potatoes and the vegetables, the traditional food for a British Christmas? She explained that in England, they eat the traditional meal on Christmas Day, not on Christmas Eve.

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[1] Pond= estanque

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En los Estados Unidos, cuando era joven, las mismas películas estaban en televisión cada Navidad. Una película era mi favorita y la veía todos los años. Se llamaba Chitty Chitty Bang Bang y trataba sobre un bonito y viejo automóvil que podía volar y podía y llevaba al dueño a una tierra mágica. La historia era grande, pero lo que yo realmente quería era ese automóvil. ¡Quince años después – la última Nochebuena - y mi sueño se había hecho realidad! Estaba conduciendo (bien, yo estaba en el asiento del pasajero) a través del campo inglés en un Bentley de 1925, un hermoso automóvil inglés. No era el mismo automóvil, pero me recordó mi película favorita y me sentía como un niño otra vez. Llevaba un sombrero de cuero, una chaqueta de cuero y gafas Hacía mucho mucho frío y el cielo estaba gris, pero era el hombre más feliz en la Tierra. Una de mis amigas de la universidad, Nicola Caswell que es inglesa me había invitado a la casa de sus padres para Navidad. Mis padres estaban en los Estados (Unidos) y yo no había hecho ningún plan para Navidad. Ella me dijo que a su familia le gustaría celebrar el periodo festivo "correctamente" y sería feliz mostrándome una Navidad inglesa. "Pero yo no quiero que te aburras," me dijo. “¿Aburrirme?¿Cómo podría aburrirme?" Contesté. "Nunca he pasado la Navidad en Inglaterra antes y me encantaría ir a casa de tus padres." "Mis padres viven en un pequeño pueblo en el país, muy lejos del pueblo más cercano que se llama Stamford. Es un pueblo pequeño bonito y hay muchas casas viejas e iglesias, pero no es muy excitante." "Me gustaría ir y pasar la Navidad con tu familia. Me has hablado tanto sobre ellos. Lo pasaré de maravilla, sé que lo haré," insistí. Nicola me había hablado sobre su familia, pero no me había hablado sobre el viejo Bentley de su padre - no se le ocurrió que yo estaría interesado. Había crecido con él y para ella, no era importante. Pero ir a dar una vuelta en el Bentley era el mejor regalo de Navidad que había tenido en muchos años. Condujimos a través de los estrechos caminos rurales a un pueblo donde los miembros del Club de conductores de Bentley tenían una reunión de Navidad. Fuimos las primeras personas en llegar y estacionamos fuera de la taberna, al lado del pueblo verde, un área oval de césped en el medio del pueblo. Había un estanque de patos y viejas casas de piedra y de repente había tres Bentleys más bajando por el camino hacia nosotros. "Mira, Nicola"! grité. "Sí, lo sé. ¿Qué le gustaría beber?" ¿Cómo podía estar ella tan tranquila? ¡Era todo tan excitante! "Rápido, sácame una foto en el coche," dije y le di mi cámara. ¡Eres divertido!" dijo, mientras me sacaba mi foto. "¡Eres como un niño pequeño!" "No me importa! ¡Me estoy divirtiendo - y te preocupaba que me aburriera!" Me pasé la hora siguiente fuera con Hugh Caswell, el padre de Nicola, hablando con los dueños de los Bentleys y mirando los coches y sus motores. Entonces, cuando estábamos helados que no podíamos ni hablar, fuimos dentro de la taberna, nos sentamos al lado de un gran fuego y bebimos una buena pinta de cerveza británica. ¡Era como tantas películas que yo había visto sobre Inglaterra, pero esto era real! Era la hora de la cena en Nochebuena, pero algo estaba mal. ¿Dónde estaban el pavo asado, las patatas asadas y las verduras, la comida tradicional para una Navidad británica? Nosotros teníamos una buena comida, pero yo estaba decepcionado porque Nicola me había dicho que su familia celebraba Navidad "correctamente." Mientras nosotros estábamos tomando café, le susurré a Nicola, "Escuche. ¿No quiero ser mal educado, pero a su familia no le gusta el pavo?" "¿Qué quieres decir?" Ella parecía sorprendida. "¿Por qué no teníamos pavo para cenar?" Nicola empezó a reírse y entonces ella explicó que en Inglaterra, ellos comen la comida tradicional en Día de Navidad, no en Nochebuena como nosotros hacemos en España. ¡Me sentí tan estúpido! Me había olvidado que eso era lo que nosotros solíamos hacer cuando vivíamos en los Estados Unidos. Por supuesto Nicola se lo contó a sus padres y a su hermana, Claire, y ellos les pareció que era muy divertido. "¡No te preocupes," dijo Claire, "Tenemos un pavo para mañana y es enorme!"