Jenny and her daughters and granddaughters have made their family's traditional Palestinian Easter fare, the date rings and semolina cakes. There are also the hard boiled eggs with traditional onion skin colouring, and a conker style competition to see whose egg can crack the most shells - or survive the most hits. There are twelve of us, so lots of battles. Jenny's mum, now in a nursing home is here, and Emma and Laura and families. Emma hides small chocolate eggs for the youngest children, Cody and Jasmine and Leila. Much hilarity and then they're rehidden outside in the garden. When they've been found again the children kindly decide to hide some in the dining room so Grandpa can find them later. After the others have left, we stay for catch up talk and supper with Jenny and Doug. Lovely.
Trip home should be straightforward - and nearly is. Except that when we're waiting on the usual eastbound platform we do notice that the sign announcing the next (eastbound) train from Hampton Court is on the far (normally) westbound side of the tracks. Just as the train approaches a man on the other side calls to ask if we're going to Surbiton and says "It's over here!" I say shit, we'll never make it, and the three of us - there's also a young man whom it now seems we have misinformed re the train's arrival - all run like crazy down the path from the wrong side, under the train bridge, and up the path to the right platform. And make it only because our kind informant has delayed the train a couple of minutes by standing in the carriage door so it can't close. Rest of trip uneventful.