I don't remember anything about the interior of Amanda's house and very little of its exterior. I am not sure how far out in the country it was, nor how close to the city. It was neither upscale nor down, pretty or ugly, but rather plain overall with more trees than depicted in the image. There seemed to be enough room for a large family so that each member had a room of his or her own.
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I am sure that Amanda and her escorts showed me around the sites of Newcastle, although I remember none of them. Looking at Newcastle photos on Google Images, St. Louis should be envious of all the arches, most of which were probably not there when I visited. Newcastle is a large city made rich by coal, so I am sure they have wonderful museums, but I remember none. All I do remember of this day is an ice cream cone, rather humongous, that Amanda bought me.
As hippies traditionally do when entertaining guests at home, they most likely brought out the bong and passed it around. I have never quite understood the passion for cannabis or any other drug. Why would anyone prefer dizziness to a clear mind? And this is called getting high? I call it getting drowsy and silly and falling asleep with burnt out lungs. I much prefer a chocolate ice cream cone. But what if it turns out that ice cream causes cancer and cannabis cures it? I may come to prefer the illegal weed. What?! You mean cannabis was illegal and there was no cure for cancer?!
Later, Amanda and friends left for London. I was invited to come along, but I could not avoid taking advantage of a large house all to myself for as long as I wished. If I could have foreseen what my return to London would be like, I would have ridden back with them. It never crossed my mind that this house was not Amanda's, nor that her parents, or whoever owned the house, would not be pleased to see me occupying their real estate. I waved goodbye to Amanda and her entourage, and never saw any of them again.
A year later, I received a letter from Amanda saying that she would be touring the states and would like to come visit, but I was a live-in nanny in Atlanta at the time, and was in no position to receive guests. I hope Amanda and whomever accompanied her had a fabulous tour and received hospitality equal to what she gave me. Many thanks, Amanda. May you be living long and prospering.
