... at the house of Peter Randall-Page

... and so we arrive at the house of Peter Randall-Page ...

Peter and Charlotte live in a cob-walled thatched house in the bottom of a wooded valley - a cob and stone barn acts as studio, workshop, and one side to a grassy sloping "farmyard" ... behind this Barn is another, larger more modern barn which is the centre of focused intense activity - two large pieces are being polished, others are being carved and all around lie large sculptural forms either waiting to be cleaned, waiting to be prepared for transport to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park , or palleted wrapped and ready to be trucked north ... we have arrive as Peter is preparing for a major exhibition at the YSP- it opens in 4 weeks time ...

sitting outside the office/barn there is some discussion about where we should sleep - the idea was we would sleep in the cabin in the woods, but this hasnt been prepared so instead we will stay in the farmhouse ...

we make our way through the barn/ studio where PRP is preparing a large abstract drawing and out to where the sculpture are being polished - David is in charge, Simon is on top of one of the large forms carving a detail, Ben and Hat are working on other pieces ... as we arrive, David decides it is time to wet one of he pieces and commence the next phase of polishing - he sprays the form with water and it is transformed from a dull grey to a deep soft grey black shimmering in the evening sunlight ... beautiful

Peter's mother is not well, so he is off to visit her in a nearby village ... he drops us off on the way at a pub and will collect us on his way back ...

the pub is in what feels like the middle of nowhere, low beamed ceiling wooden floor simple tables and benches ... it is full of locals and visitors people ordering meals and exchanging views .... at the bar, three awfully-well-spoken-fifty/ sixty-something-chaps are discussing the state of the sterling euro exchange rate "dont talk too loudly or Charlie will wake up and want to join in " ... Charlie, a large rotund gentleman is sitting behind them snoozing between courses ... the young barmaid tries to get him to decide what pudding he will have ... he wakes up and harrumphs like an old colonel in a Carry On film and after listening to her list the choices goes for the chocolate brownie and ice-cream ... and falls asleep again, waking quite miraculously as the bowl is placed gently on the table ...

When Peter returns to pick us up we sit outside and one of the awfully-well-spoken-fifty/ sixty-something-chaps comes out - he, too, is a John and a good friend of Peter and Charlotte ... it turns out that he cultivates old and rare hops organically... he has been disappointed with the brews that have been produced from his crop and is looking for, well, at first I am not sure what he is looking for but it turns out that Gordon (Benedict's brewmaster lodger) may be what John is looking for - a methodical, meticulous, chemistry trained, brewer - Benedict promises to put them in touch

we head back past Castle Drogo to the farm and food ...