Over the Easter weekend of 2012, I played host to some American friends. Originally from Dallas, Texas, they are a couple who moved to sunny Sheffield last year, partly out of a wish to leave the U.S. for a while, and partly for Shanes’ job. His wife Rachel has not yet found employment in the UK due in part to a delayed visa, so has been going a bit stir-crazy at home. So much so, in fact, that she has learned to knit. I cunningly deduced much of this when I met them at the train station on the Thursday evening, and Shane was sporting a truly magnificent and incredibly lengthy scarf, worthy of the Doctor himself. I mentioned this, and drew two perfect blank stares. So after the usual round of questions about having a pleasant journey and the inevitable weather conversation, we headed back to my home.

The two had never been into my part of the world before, so at home, cups of tea were made, boots were unlaced , maps brought out and after a little while, some fine Scotch Whisky was opened. We had a rough plan for our weekend, which included seeing some live music on the Saturday evening, but due to a previous engagement they’d be left to their own devices for a few hours on the Friday, so we agreed I would drop them off in town beforehand and meet in the pub later. It was here I discovered Shane’s hitherto-unmentioned love of traditional British ale, so the two of us decided we should try as much of it as possible. Rachel saw the inherent side-effect of this particular idea first, but approved enthusiastically of it nonetheless. I can see why he married her, frankly.

Come the Saturday after some shopping and a hearty lunch, we caught one of the surprisingly frequent buses to the venue. The first band were due on at 5pm, but by 4.45 the organiser & soundman still hadn’t turned up, which caused concern amongst the assembled musicians. Two other friends of mine were in fact among these assembled musicians, and the delay caused Stuart to nearly order a pint in frustration. Fortunately, inebriation was forestalled by the eventual arrival of the technicians. Rachel, Shane & I –being non-musicians- retired to some comfy seats to stay out of the way, and in what seemed like the blink of an eye, suddenly the pub was filled with glorious sounds. Stuart & Emily produce music of the finest quality, all original material and with hooks that leave you humming the tunes days later. I count myself fortunate to know them. Naturally, once concluded onstage, the band were good enough to join us for drinks and somehow, we looked at a clock after no time at all and discovered it had in fact been nearly 4 hours.

Food was necessary, and so of course we headed to civilisation for curry. In the one and only curry house in my village, Shane threw down a mighty challenge; Texan Chilli could kick the butt (or arse, if you prefer) of any Eastern treat. I responded with but three words. Prove it, sunshine.

Sunday dawned, and fumbling downstairs I found Shane and Rachel huddled over my largest cooking pot, quietly disagreeing over the amount of garlic to be used in the evening meal. After distracting them with breakfast, served the only way I know how (ie, fried and with bucks fizz) we decided to have a quiet day, alternating between fresh air on the hills and popping back home every so often to add things to the cauldron of Texan doom. I dared not interfere, the process seemed more akin to high science than kitchencraft. I asked about the usual accompaniments to chilli “back home”, and was told that corn bread was the traditional staple. Corn bread is hard to come by in North Yorkshire, so I was advised to head to the nearest cornershop and acquire tortilla chips and cheese. My expression at the word “cornershop” must have given the game away, and so it was we drove nearly 12 miles out to a petrol station for Doritos. Not the first time, but then that’s another story altogether.

Naturally, the chilli was fantastic. The secret truly seems to lie in the amount of time one leaves it to simmer. I was advised to crush the chips (ahem, crisps) to shards, layer on the cheese and then pour the chilli over. I haven’t had such an incredibly tasty meal from a bowl since my mother first introduced me to the concept of breakfast cereal. For a meal that literally took several hours to produce, I was almost ashamed that it took just a few minutes to demolish. My guests took this as a most gratifying compliment. After dinner, I returned to the lounge after cleaning up (They cooked, I cleaned. That’s the rule) I returned to the lounge to find Shane, - a gleeful, charismatic Texan- sat smoking a pipe on the sofa, idly gazing through my pitiful DVD collection. At which, he turned to me and said “I’d like to see this Doctor Who you guys seem to go nuts for”. And the rest –as they say- is history.

Monday morning came around rather too swiftly, and so my guests packed up their belongings –including the glorious scarf which they had a newfound appreciation for- and groggily made tracks for the railway station. No doubt Dallas has its charms, but these two were more interested in the small life we rural Brits have carved out for ourselves. Earlier, during the layering up and the lacing of boots, Rachel had turned to me and said “We’ve had such a great time, Bruno. You do realise we’ll be back, don’t you?” Yes, my dear. Yes I do. And frankly, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I owe them a meal, after all. And I think I feel a glorious steak & ale pie coming on…

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Author's Bio: 

Bruno Blackstone is a freelance writer interested in all things to do with the outdoors and helping others get the most from the outdoors. Starting with a psychology degree his early career was as a social worker and family therapist working with families to help them achieve more positive and stable relationships. In his more recent career he has coached many senior executives in both small and large organisations in areas such as strategy, human resources, organisational design and performance improvement. He now continues his work in the business world but he is also co-owner of My Outdoor Store a price comparison site for outdoor enthusiasts.